Sexy as Hell Box Set (42 page)

But would she be up for it?

Not tonight, but I wouldn’t give up hope. Maybe a few drinks, a bit of foreplay, some naughty suggestions. Who knew, perhaps I’d be able to tempt her racy side to the surface.

If she had one, that was.

After putting a couple of bottles of white in the fridge, Sauvignon Blanc, I headed into my bedroom and pulled a brown leather box from my cupboard. There were already four items in my sex stash. A tube of lube, a long black vibrator, a butt plug and a paddle. It was the paddle that held the most sentiment for me. Picking it up and swatting the air produced a vivid image of Zara naked and bent over my knee, her red arse up and her pussy sopping with want.

My dick twitched, and I ran my fingers over my initials carved from the centre of the flat wooden surface. VP. When spanked, Zara’s flesh had become a mishmash of those letters. She’d belonged to me back then. That night I’d owned her completely. Been entirely responsible for her wellbeing, her pleasure, everything that she could need was given—by me.

Damn, my cock was swelling. It was a powerful memory, the trust she’d displayed. The obedience I’d sought, demanded and received was both humbling and awe inspiring. And when she’d come, damn, she’d actually passed out for a while, her body so high on ecstasy she’d folded in on herself, pleasure her only sensation and awareness.

We’d shared so much. More than a lot of people did in an entire lifetime together.

I dropped the paddle back in the box. Added my new purchases then shoved everything in the cupboard.

Would I ever feel like that again?

That was a question I simply didn’t have the answer to.

“Mmm, that was delicious,” Catherine said, sitting on the sofa and setting her wine on the table. “You really are a wonderful cook, Victor. Tell me, is there anything you
can’t
do?”

I dumped the plates on the kitchen counter, grabbed my wine and joined her. “That’s very kind of you to say so, but yes, I’m pretty sure there’s plenty I can’t do.”

“Well, I’ve yet to discover anything about you that isn’t perfect.” She snuggled close, placed her hand on my chest and her head in the crook of my neck.

I stroked her hair over her shoulder, stared at the pale strands slipping through my fingers. I couldn’t help but wonder how perfect she’d think I was if I told her I quite enjoyed a butt plug up my arse, or that spanking really did it for me big time. Or that today I’d bought a whole load of stuff from a sex shop that I was itching to try out on her. The image of her sprawled and helpless on my bed was still with me, still prodding me to make it reality. How would she feel if I told her that, if I told her I wanted to make her pass out with pleasure?

I huffed at my ridiculous thoughts.

“What?” she asked, tearing her attention from the TV, some animal documentary, and looking up at my face.

“Nothing, just, well, who is perfect? Everyone has faults, flaws…a dark side.”

She giggled. “You don’t have a dark side.” She gave me a quick kiss on the lips, fast and light, almost a tickle. “You, Victor Partridge, are most definitely on the light side.”

“You reckon.” I squeezed her a bit closer, grinned playfully. At least we were talking about something different.

She laughed, “Yes, I do.”

“So tell me what I’d have to do, in your eyes, to be considered on the dark side?” I ran my hand into her hair, tugged just a tad, to see if she’d complain.

Her eyes widened slightly, her breath hitched. I had her attention.

“I suppose…if you were a murderer or something.” She licked her lips, left them parted.

“No,” I said, kissing her lightly, poking my tongue just a little into her mouth. She couldn’t move away, I was holding her head tight. It felt good, to have her where I wanted her, even if it was just for the tiniest, sweetest of kisses. “I don’t mean anything criminal, just in everyday life. We all have secrets, Catherine. Tell me, what would be a deal breaker for you? If you found something out about me?”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” She laughed again.

I wasn’t sure but I thought there had been a hint of nervousness in it.

I released her hair, stroked the back of my index finger down her baby-soft cheek. “Of course not, we’re just chatting.” I paused. “You are beautiful, you know.”

She blushed slightly, cast her eyes downwards.

I tipped her chin with my thumb, forced her to look at me again. “So?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it.”

“So think now.”

She nibbled her bottom lip, blinked rapidly.

“It’s not a trick question,” I said, slipping my finger down her throat and onto the collar of her pale-blue sweater. “I just want to know if there was anything, if I should do it, or ask it of you, that would stop you from wanting to be with me.”

She shook her head slightly, a miniscule movement, only just discernable.

I could see I was going to have to be more specific. “What I’m trying to say is…” Deep breath. I could do this, I could talk about sex. Zara had shown me how. You just came right out and said it. There was no room for embarrassment because if you didn’t say what you wanted how the hell were you ever going to get it? “What I’m trying to say is, well, things between us, in the bedroom… I’m just worried I’m not getting it right for you.”

She stiffened, snatched in a breath. “No, no, it’s fine. Lovely.”

I curled my hand around her nape. With the other I moved a lock of hair that had fallen over her cheek. “We’re both adults, Catherine, consenting, desirous adults. We can talk about this, because I like you, a lot, and if we’re going to make this work then I want to make you happy, in the bedroom.”

She raised her gaze, looked at me properly. I saw a glint of something steelier than normal in her depths. “Go on.”

“I need to know your deal breakers. Is there anything you can’t bear the thought of?”

She said nothing, which I took as a good sign.

I pulled in another deep breath. This next one was the biggie for me. It had been a growing need that wouldn’t be contained since it had germinated. “Would you be willing to let me take control, completely? I don’t mean just for a late-night meeting under the duvet missionary style. I mean for so much more. Something that would make you fly so high, come over and over—”

“Victor, really, I…”

“Shh.”

I stroked down her cheek, neck and onto her chest, felt her breast through her sweater, a
pillowy mound of flesh that fitted in my palm perfectly. Her nipple was hard and tight, her breaths coming quickly and making her chest rise and fall.

“Catherine, you’re a woman, I’m a man. Believe it or not I do have something to offer more than just a fumbling fuck.”

She opened her mouth, shut it again.

“I just want to make you happy,” I whispered. “And in turn that will make me happy.”

She nodded. “Yes, I want that too. And I’m sorry if I really haven’t been what you were expecting, or what you’re used to. Because, of course, you’re a man of the world, one of the country’s highest regarded architects.” She glanced away. “Oh, God, what was I thinking? Really, that I could be good enough for you?”

She shifted, tried to stand.

I pulled her back down, close up against me. “Don’t you ever say you’re not good enough for me, because that’s not true. I’m the one who’s bloody lucky that you’re here with me tonight.” I kissed her, trying to put a heavy dose of passion behind every sweep of my tongue. Catherine
could
be right for me, I was sure of it.

Our kiss broke and I swept her hair from her flushed face, studied the way her damp mouth looked a little swollen. Those dirty words came back to me, the ones that had held me hostage in The Savoy that time.
Suck my cock.

Shit. Had I said them out loud?

Catherine was shimmying onto the floor, between my legs, reaching for the waistband on my sweats.

“Catherine,” I gasped as blood rushed to my dick, every stroke of her hand through material adding a new layer of arousal.

“I have more to offer too,” she said with a nervous smile.

I shifted and allowed her to pull my sweats down my thighs. My white boxers followed, and my cock sprang up like a sentry reporting for duty.

Fuck.

I went to fist myself, but Catherine batted my hand away.

“No, allow me,” she said.

She was trying to be assertive, though there’d been a tremor of uncertainty in her tone. But I could live with that. This was a massive step forward. Catherine hadn’t shown my cock one moment of interest so far.

“Would you like me to give you a…blowjob?” she asked, licking her lips and gazing up at me.

“
Er, yes, please.”

She swallowed, then smiled, then flicked out the tip of her tongue and swiped it through my slit.

“Ah, yeah.” I dropped back on the sofa, resting my head on the soft cushions. “Catherine… I…”

“No talking, just enjoy, Victor.”

She set up a push-pull motion on my cock. It was a little fast, the grip not as tight as I’d like, but I supposed that would stop me coming too soon. She slipped the head of my dick into her mouth, sucked, hard. The sensation was uncomfortably arousing. Not enough to bring me to orgasm, but it was nice to feel her pretty lips giving me some attention.

I slotted my hands into her hair, tightened my thighs around her narrow shoulders. “
Mmm, that’s nice,” I said encouragingly.

I wished I hadn’t, because she increased the suction. The tip of my cock suddenly felt like it was about to explode, and not in a good way.

“Ah, ah, Catherine, like this…” My abdomen tensed, my breath caught in my throat, and I peeled her fingers from my cock. “Take me, into your mouth, don’t suck so hard.”

Shit, my dick was on fire.

“It feels too good,” I said, suddenly anxious that she’d take offence. “And what I really want is to be completely in you. Do that for me, baby, take me.”

She pushed her hair back from where it had fallen onto me. I helped her by sweeping it up into a rough ponytail on the top of her head. I had a clear view then, of her sinking deep. Her rosebud mouth parting, stretching as my cock disappeared.

A long low groan rumbled up from my chest, and I let it burst unhindered from my lips. “Oh, yeah, that’s it. That’s just right. Damn, you’re good.”

And she was. Now that she’d stopped the frantic sucking she was getting the rhythm just right. Firm and steady, nice and deep each time. The smooth ridges of her palate were sliding over my
cockend, her teeth just grazing me in that edgy, scary-but-sexy way that made my bollocks draw up tight.

After a few minutes the first kernels of a climax were beginning to pop. Damn, I should have had the spit-or-swallow conversation. I canted my hips, pushing my cock further into her mouth, increased my grip on her hair so that she didn’t shift when I hit maximum depth.

“Ah, Catherine, you’re going to make me come, any second, shit…”

It was there. A lovely big, bursting orgasm that jettisoned up my dick, bringing with it the release of so much pressure. I sank into her mouth, deeper than before as the first, second and third pulse heaved from me.

She struggled, shifted, but still I stayed seated almost to the root of my cock, filling her throat, holding her head with more force as I did so. “Ah, fucking hell, so good. Take it, take all of me, baby.”

The final gush of release allowed a thread of sanity back into my brain. Quickly, I let her go and allowed her to move and quite literally spit out my cock. She gasped for air. Her eyes were watering. There was smear of saliva down her chin.

“Come here,” I said, gathering her into my arms and feeling wretched for the last couple of seconds when the need for relief had taken control.

I’d let out my beast.

The trouble was, though, Catherine wasn’t ready to meet him yet.

I sat behind my desk and stared across at my cousin, Ollie. He had a massive shiner—looked quite painful, actually—and wondered what the bloody hell he’d been up to. Had someone finally given him a beating? Had some woman’s husband caught him giving his wife a good poke? The questions were burning my tongue, but I decided to let them fizzle out to ashes. He’d tell me if he had a mind.

I’d asked him here so I could talk to him about Catherine. Yeah, that might be tricky, what with her aunt sitting down the hall, an aunt who once again had a penchant for just knocking then walking straight in. I’d told her we weren’t to be disturbed, and since I’d been seeing her niece, she’d been more like her old self instead of the grumpy, suspicious woman she’d become when I’d had Zara in my life.

Much as it pained me to admit it, I needed Ollie’s guidance. Some pointers on how to proceed with Catherine. Clearly, my coming in her mouth had been a no-no, something she’d found wholly abhorrent. In fact, from what I’d gathered, given the way she’d treated me to a painful sucking at first, she’d possibly never done that before. God, had I scarred her for life? Her one and only attempt at sucking someone off had resulted in a forced flood of cum down her throat that had made her gag.