Sexy as Hell Box Set (62 page)

“But first.” She paused to hiccup. “You must ask me what happened to my thermometer.”

“What happened to your thermometer?”

This was all good fun, but a little weird. Catherine was swaying too.

“I dropped it and it broke. I’m a very naughty nurse.” She shook her head and feigned sadness. “I think you should smack my bottie so I don’t do it again.”

“Maybe I should.” Great idea. My palm actually tingled for the connection. A drip of pre-cum leaked from my cock from just me thinking about having an arse to whack.

“But, Victor.” Her voice had gone back to normal. “No, um, in-the-wrong-hole-sex tonight. I’m not saying we can’t again but, you know, I’m a bit sore.”

“Of course.” God, that was my fault. “And I’m sorry about that, it’s not the kind of pain you should have. We should have discussed it first, I was just so—”

“Shh, it’s okay, really.” She touched a lock of my hair that had fallen forwards. “I had to get that first time out of the way and now it is. Zara has explained everything. I know exactly who you are and what you want.” She smiled and pressed her lips to mine, her outfit brushing my straining cock. “Now, what are you going to do with your naughty nurse?”

“This.” I pulled her onto the bed, over my thighs, her belly pressing into my erection.

She gasped and then fisted the sheet when I lifted up her dress to completely reveal her arse cheeks.

“Has this peachy bum felt the slap of a hand before?” I asked.

“No.”

She wriggled, but I placed one hand in the small of her back, the other I swept over her buttocks.

“It will hurt, then it will feel good. The heat will grow, you’ll feel floaty and then when you come it’s super intense.”

“That’s what Zara said—she said that’s the only way Ollie likes it but she doesn’t, it’s not for her.”

“Is that what she said?” Lying little minx. I knew damn well it was right up her filthy alley.

“Are you ready?” I asked, pushing an image of Zara from my mind. When she’d been draped over my lap, offered up, she’d worn thigh-high leather boots. The fire had blazed at our side.

“I think so.”

I brought my hand down, hard, onto her left buttock.

“Ah, ow,” Catherine cried out and jolted.

I held her firmer. Hit again, enjoying how it jerked her into my cock.

“Oh, Victor, it does really hurt, you know.”

“Yes, but harness that feeling, let it make you hot and wet.” I hit again, admired my handprint blooming from the first strike.

She gasped, kicked her heels. I went for another whack and then slipped my fingers between her legs.

She was moist and warm, her pussy lips swollen and slippery.

“Catherine,” I said, smoothing my hand up her back, over her nape and touching the sexy little hat on her head. “You’re so hot and wet for me, you know that?”

“Yes, oh, Victor, please, just do what you want to my body, it’s yours.”

I smacked her again, with more force, quickly followed with another slap.

She cried out again and I wondered about doing what I really wanted to do. Thought about putting that vibrator in my bag up her arse and fucking her with it whirring away inside her.

But no, I’d pushed her boundaries already today. I was still enough of a gentleman to understand that.

She was squirming, the friction of her outfit rubbing on my cock. Soon I was going to have to bury myself deep. I grabbed a condom, luckily within reach on the table, and admired my handiwork by stroking her arse, down her thighs then back up to the hollow of her back.

She sighed and arched, like a cat being adored. I explored between her legs again, finger fucking her and enjoying the way she twitched for more.

That was it. Something in me snapped. “Get up,” I said. “Now.”

She did as I’d asked, a flash of concern on her face.

“Ride me.” I rolled the condom on, sat up straighter. “Sit on my cock, Catherine, and show me how much you enjoyed your spanking.”

She grinned and eyed my dick. “Yes, and also I think this is the only cure for your terrible condition.”

I gritted my teeth. I was almost mad with want—wanting a hot pussy around my dick. Sod the nurse game.

She climbed on top of me, slipped her hands over my ears and took me so deep I swear I could feel the smooth hardness of her cervix.

We both groaned and then our mouths connected.

Catherine set a fast and furious pace. I knew I wouldn’t last long. Thoughts of what the hell Zara had said to her kept whizzing through my mind. Just odd words, snippets, flashes of memories. She was so good to me, Zara, saying the right things to Catherine to get her to do all of this stuff I wanted to do.

As Catherine came in a gush of wetness and with a cry of my name, I gave in to my orgasm. Let it blast from me, and as I did I had a heartfelt rush of gratitude for Zara who’d made this happen.

She knew me so well.

The next three days after the nurse outfit episode went by in a blur of us not seeing Zara and Ollie. Catherine had continued in the same vein as that night, which had surprised me a great deal. I’d thought she would have woken the next morning, mortified at her behaviour, refusing to look at me, a furious blush on her cheeks. Yet it had been the opposite. She’d roused me with another blowjob—wonders would never cease—and had asked me to finger her arse with lube so she could get used to my cock being in there next time we tried it. Although it still didn’t feel right and I couldn’t work out why. I had yet to thank Zara, and it played on my mind that I hadn’t. She deserved my gratitude for actually doing what she’d promised—without her little chat, I seriously doubted Catherine would have been so enthusiastic.

Today was the third morning. The sun streamed through the glass, lighting up the bottom of the bed with a bright rectangle. Catherine was asleep beside me, facing away, curled in the foetal position. Her hair was splayed over the pillow and across her cheek, obscuring her face. I stared at the ceiling, at the fan that undoubtedly earned its keep when the weather grew hotter, and thanked not only Zara but my lucky stars. It seemed Catherine
was
the right woman for me after all. She’d just needed a nudge in the right direction and a bit of practice.

I got up, feeling hot, ready for a shower and to actually leave this bedroom for more time than it took to quickly grab something to eat. Zara and Ollie must think us rude, sequestering ourselves in here, but then again, what did their opinion matter? All we were doing was sharing a villa. It wasn’t as though we’d agreed to spend the whole holiday in each other’s company.

I showered, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, then left the room, planning to grab a couple of pieces of fruit and eat alfresco. In the kitchen, I took a banana and a plum from the bowl on the side and made my way to the door. It was ajar. I frowned, wondering whether Zara and Ollie had perhaps been out on the town last night and had come back drunk, forgetting to lock up. It wasn’t like any strangers would be likely to come out this far, but still, there were some rum people out there in the world, and I told myself to remind Ollie and Zara not to be so careless next time.

The cool air was a balm on my skin, and I headed for the stand of trees, thinking to sit on the ground, maybe lean against a trunk while I enjoyed my breakfast. As I entered, I spied Zara there, stretched out on her stomach, her legs bent at the knees, calves and feet sticking straight up. She had her ankles crossed and appeared to be reading a magazine.

What the hell was she doing out here so early?

“Morning,” I said as I approached then settled down next to her in the same position. The damp ground chilled my elbows, and I took a bite of my plum.

“Well, hello, stranger,” she said, not taking her attention from the magazine. She flipped a page and frowned, as if concentrating hard—or showing her annoyance at being disturbed.

I swallowed, then said, “I’m sorry, did you want to be alone?” I took another bite.

“That was the idea, yes, but never mind. I’ve been out here long enough. It might be an idea for me to go back in and check on Ollie anyway.”

It was my turn to frown. “Check on him?”

“Yes.” She turned her head to look at me, a page corner held between finger and thumb. “He’s been handcuffed to the bed all night.”

I coughed. “Oh. Has he been bad?”

“You could say that.” She pursed her lips. “As you know, Victor, when my orders are ignored, I can get a little…pissed off.”

“A little?” I’d almost choked my words. “More than a little, Zara.”

“Okay, more than a little. Whatever.” She let go of the page corner then flapped her hand. “He’s actually been handcuffed to the bed on and off since the night we got here.”

“On and off?” I widened my eyes. What the hell had he done to deserve such a long punishment?

“Oh, I let him use the bathroom, but only the toilet. He hasn’t showered, brushed his teeth, nothing like that for two days.”

A terrible thought crossed my mind. “You have fed him, haven’t you?”

She gave me one of her stern glares. “What do you bloody take me for, a psycho?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think you want me to answer that.”

She raised her eyebrows. “No, I probably don’t.”

We lapsed into silence. Zara continued reading. I nosed at what she was so engrossed in, unsurprised. A fetish mag. She wasn’t reading at all but looking. A woman was spread-eagled across the pages, the centre fold making a slice through her naked slit. Her legs were open, and she had one hand resting at the top of a thigh, fingertips nestled in the flesh beside her plump cunt lip. Her other hand was on the floor beside her, and she clutched a cucumber, the upper half glistening, as though she’d just finished fucking herself with it. She was black-haired, very much like Zara in the looks department, and I had no trouble imagining the female next to me getting off in the same way.

I looked from the mag to the grass in front of me, finished my plum then tossed the stone. It hit one of the tree trunks ahead then dive-bombed to the mossy ground.

“What did Ollie do?” I asked, unable to resist knowing.

“On the first night he was supposed to wank during dinner and come without anyone knowing,” she said matter of factly.

“Christ, Zara, you’re revolting sometimes, do you know that?”

“Of course I do!”

“I bloody knew something was going on.” I shook my head at the lengths Ollie was prepared to go to for her and knew he was just as bewitched—if not more—as I had been. “I take it he didn’t meet your requirements.”

“No. He didn’t do it. Started to but stopped.”

“I bet now he wishes he’d done as he was told.”

“Oh yes.”

“When will you set him free?”

She ran her finger over the mag woman’s pussy. Circled her hole. “Today. I want to go and have a drink in some wine bar or other, see a bit of this place before we go back to England. I don’t fancy going by myself, and seeing as you and Catherine are so…indisposed, I could take Ollie along.”

“Ah, I wanted to thank you,” I said.

“What for?” She stroked her thumb over the woman’s nipple.

“For that little chat you had with Catherine. It did the trick.”

“I gathered that. So now you can live happily ever after. Good for you.”

She’d sounded annoyed, or maybe bored, I couldn’t decide which. Either way, what did it matter to me?

I moved to peel my banana.

“Don’t,” she said.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t peel it.”

“Why ever not?”

“Just don’t.” She glanced across at me, licking her lips and eyeing the fruit as though it were a big yellow cock.

I thought of what she’d been looking at previous to me. “Oh. Oh, fuck.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“No. You are
not
having my banana to stick it up your cunt. Go and get your own.” I held it to me possessively, giving what I hoped was a stern glare.

“Really? You want me to get up, go inside, get my own banana, then come back out here to fuck myself with it when you have what I need right there? God, you’re selfish.”

“Selfish? Look, woman, you’re the one who’s selfish.” I felt mean for saying that, considering she’d basically saved my relationship with Catherine, but God, Zara drove me to the point of madness at times. “This is my breakfast. Just because you fancy having sex with it, doesn’t mean I have to automatically give it up on your say so. You want fruit sex so badly, like I said, go and get your own.”

“Fruit sex?”

She rolled over onto her side, laughing with her mouth so wide I could see she didn’t have any top fillings. I had to smile, despite trying hard not to. How was it she could infuriate me one minute then switch my emotions to the other end of the scale so quickly?

Bloody woman.

“Please,” she said, composing herself and taking up her former position. She stared at me, doe-eyed. “Please, Master, may I have your breakfast?”