The Pleasures of Winter (30 page)

He was right. Part of her did want it, wanted the extremes – of sensation, of emotion – that only he could drive her to. But another part, a big cowardly part, was terrified of what it would feel like. Maybe they could do it later?

He took her in his arms and her thoughts scattered. Jack cupped her hips, drawing her against the hard ridge straining against his pants. ‘See what you do to me. I can barely think straight since I met you. I need to take the edge off before I –’

‘Let me.’ Her fingers tugged at the button of his trousers and she pulled the zipper down. ‘I want to do it.’

He groaned when she slid to her knees. It had been a while. William hadn’t been into oral sex so she thought she wasn’t either. But at this moment her world was reduced to Jack’s cock. She wanted to smell him and lick him and suck him and have him come in her mouth. She caressed him through the dark cotton of his boxers, running her fingers along his thick erection before pulling it free. She took a second to admire its strong thrust before she leaned in and tasted him. Jack groaned again.

His hands tangled in her hair. She wrapped her lips around him and was surprised at how big he was. She opened her mouth a little wider and sucked him deep into her mouth. God, he tasted delicious. A hint of soap and an aroused male.

She rested her hands on his hips and he thrust forwards in a small involuntary movement. ‘God, that feels so good.’

She ran her tongue over the tip and was rewarded by another groan. She released him from her mouth and began a slow exploration with her tongue, lapping at him from base to tip. He made a tormented noise.

‘I need your mouth, Abbie. Take me in your mouth.’

Abbie obeyed. This time she sucked harder, running her lips and tongue over the sensitive tip, driving him crazy. She could feel his tension as he tried to hold back. ‘No, not yet.’

She flicked her tongue again to tease him and he shuddered. For once, Jack wasn’t in charge. She gripped the base of his cock and sucked him deeper, savouring his musky taste. He growled with pleasure. His hands fisted in her hair
as he drove into her mouth in short strokes. Abbie swirled her tongue lightly around the head again and took him deeper. She could feel his climax gather as she sucked harder.

‘Please …’ Jack was losing control. His thrusts became longer, tipping against the back of her throat. Her gag reflex kicked in and she closed her fingers around the base of his cock to slow his pace.

Jack stroked her hair, caressing it gently. ‘Sorry, Abbie, sorry.’

She relaxed and, taking a deep breath, she sucked him deep again. Jack tried to pull back, but she wanted this, wanted him helpless.

He gasped, ‘Don’t. I …’

She loved having him vulnerable like this. In spite of her position kneeling in front of him, she was the one in charge. She opened her eyes and glanced upwards. Jack’s eyes were tightly closed. His jaw was tense as he fought for control. She pulled him a fraction of an inch deeper and with a strangled cry, he came in a hot, salty torrent at the back of her throat.

She held on to his hips until he stopped trembling. All she could hear in the room was the sound of his harsh breathing. Jack lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed, lying back so that she was sprawled on top of him.

Abbie smiled, pleased with herself. That had been astonishing, reducing Jack to pleas and moans. Then she spotted the rack of crops and remembered. This was only a truce. She was in Jack’s playroom and she was still due a punishment.

She dropped her head against his chest and listened as the thudding of his heart returned to normal.

‘I do believe you have hidden talents, Ms Marshall,’ Jack said.

She lifted her head and saw the satisfied expression on his face.

‘You think so?’

Jack dropped a light kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘Mmmm, but they won’t distract me from punishing you.’

Ah, they were back to punishment again. Jack had a collection of whips that would impress a saddlery store. He couldn’t possibly think of using them on her. She had to work and her job involved sitting down. On an actual chair, not a pile of cushions. The other reporters would give her hell if they even suspected what she had been up to.

Jack sat up, taking her with him. He led her across the room to what looked like an antique prie-dieu with a red velvet kneeler.

‘Another purchase from the Madam’s house?’

Jack grinned. ‘Why don’t you try it out?’

With a little shiver of excitement, Abbie knelt down and leaned over the top. The red velvet cushioned her breasts and she rested her chin on the edge. From a small drawer built into the base, Jack produced two lengths of silken rope and looped them around her wrists, then looped the end around the rope, holding her securely so that she could only move a few inches. He was really going to do this.

‘Nervous, Abbie?’

‘No,’ she said defiantly, trying to sound braver than she felt.

‘I can fix that.’

She turned her head, the one thing that could still move, to see Jack picking up a white cloth. He folded it and put it over her eyes. The smell of hemp, strong and exotic, overwhelmed her, masking Jack’s distinctive scent.

Abbie wriggled. Without her vision, the world changed. She was deeply aware of Jack’s closeness, the sound of his breathing, the touch of his hands. He was still dressed and she felt his shirt all along her back when he leaned over to check her bonds. The velvet of the little bench cushioned her skin.

‘Did you have to do that?’ She hoped that holding a conversation would make this feel normal, but even her voice had changed. Or had it always been that husky before?

Jack laughed in response. ‘Some people like it. They say it increases the anticipation. What’s the nasty Dom going to do now? Will he use the crop, the whip or the flail? Or perhaps you’d like to make the acquaintance of a paddle?’

Abbie stayed silent. She had seen the size of the paddle and it looked as if it would really hurt.

‘Or maybe you’d just prefer my hand.’

A sharp swat landed on her butt and she squealed. ‘Fuck!’ She had forgotten how much it stung.

Jack laughed. ‘Fuck is not a safe word, you know.’

Three more followed, interspersed with caresses. Abbie squealed each time. The next smacks were harder and she tried not to cry out. Holding her breath, trying to anticipate where each stroke would land.

His hand rested on her inflamed skin. His touch was soothing. ‘OK so far?’

‘Yes,’ she said. She wasn’t sure how comfortable she
was being restrained but there was something about surrendering control that was turning her on.

‘Good, I’m just getting warmed up.’

Jack’s voice sounded further away. Abbie twisted her head round, trying to gauge where he had gone. The dull sound of wood on flesh gave her goosebumps. He had the paddle.

The next blow wasn’t as sharp as his hand but the sting was deeper, hotter. She groaned with each blow and gave herself up to them. Her breath came in short gasps as the paddle hit her flesh, striking sparks into her skin. She wriggled, trying to control where the blows landed. Through the pain, the stirrings of arousal bloomed low in her abdomen.

‘Like that, do you?’ Jack spoke against her ear. She hadn’t heard him move. He knelt down behind her, his knees bracketing hers. His heat overwhelmed her and she felt his erection pressing into her hot buttocks. He stroked her hair. ‘Good girl, I’ve got something nice for you next. You’ll like this.’

He moved away again and resumed spanking her. Abbie was dizzy. She had lost count of the smacks and was consumed by the ache between her thighs. She wriggled her hips again and was rewarded with a cool hand against her skin.

‘Hush, Abbie. Soon, I promise you.’

A row of butterflies landed on her back and Abbie jerked. Well, maybe not quite butterflies. They stung a little, but not as much as the paddle. The soft tips caressed her calves and back, avoiding her inflamed butt. It almost felt relaxing. She must be crazy: she couldn’t actually be
enjoying this. She was panting and she felt heady, as if her body belonged to someone else.

‘Good girl.’ She smiled at his praise.

He moved away from her and she heard the rasp of a zipper. The tip of his cock nudged against her aching centre and he drove into her in one slick stroke. Pleasure and pain mingled together and she cried out. She couldn’t take much more of this.

On his next thrust she almost lost her mind. ‘Please, more, harder.’

She couldn’t believe the hoarse voice was hers. Short, hard thrusts pushed him further into her, inflaming her. Each stroke touched something deep inside her. It was like being prodded with an electric goad, so intense she had no control of her body. With one hand in her hair and the other clamped on her hip, he drove her on. She had never felt so restrained, or so free.

Her inner muscles clamped around his pumping shaft. Her world was reduced to the smell of sex and Jack’s body overwhelming hers. Abbie cried out again, desperate to come.

‘Not yet, Abbie. Not yet. Almost there.’ Jack’s thrusts became more frantic. She welcomed the pain as it pushed her over the bright edge into ecstasy and shuddering into blessed darkness.

She was aware of his weight pressing on her back. His ragged breath against the damp skin of her neck. Soft, soothing words against her hair. She was his: his best girl, his love.

Jack untied the bindings on her wrists and kissed her hands, before lifting her in his arms and carrying her to
the bed. She rested her face against his damp chest and listened to the thudding of his heart.

‘You are amazing, Abbie. Fucking amazing.’

She didn’t feel very amazing. Every inch of her body sang with ecstasy or pain and she couldn’t seem to string two coherent words together. After a while, Jack rolled off the bed and returned with a glass of cool water. He helped her sit up and pressed it against her lips. ‘Drink now.’ She did, then yawned and closed her eyes.

When she woke, Jack was watching her. He ran his index finger along her jaw. ‘You’re so beautiful.’

Abbie snorted. ‘I know what the mirror tells me, Jack, and beautiful doesn’t come into it.’

‘Hey, you’re natural. There’s not a thing false about you. No Botox, no hair extensions.’ His hand strayed to cup her breast. ‘And these are natural too.’

‘There’s a little too much of them.’

Jack’s face changed, became stern. ‘What did I tell you about being self-critical?’ He flipped her over on to her stomach and landed half a dozen sharp swats on her abused rear end.

‘Ow!’ She pushed herself up and glared at him. ‘What the hell was that?’

‘It’s what you can expect any time I hear you running yourself down.’

Abbie’s stomach rumbled loudly.

‘When was the last time you ate?’

She had almost forgotten that the whole food thing was high up on his list of rules. Abbie tried to be evasive. ‘Sometime yesterday. I can’t remember.’

Jack frowned. ‘What’s your favourite food? And please don’t tell me salad.’

‘Ice cream,’ she announced.

‘OK, ice cream it is. Wear something warm. We’re taking the bike.’

The bike turned out to be a Harley. Abbie eyed it dubiously. She preferred something with four wheels. It looked dangerous. She had to admit, though, that the bike didn’t look quite as dangerous as Jack Winter in jeans, a dark T-shirt and a scuffed leather jacket. He was positively edible.

He put on a pair of sunglasses, handed her a helmet and smiled. ‘Your chariot awaits.’

Her ass still stung from earlier and she wasn’t sure how she would fare on a long bike ride. It had been difficult enough to put her jeans on. She climbed on to the bike behind him. The leather seat cushioned her butt. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. He revved the engine and they took off down the drive and out through the gates on to the street.

Abbie held on to Jack’s solid body as he sped along the highway, weaving between the traffic. She hated to admit it, but he was a good driver and it wasn’t long before they reached Pasadena.

Abbie followed Jack into a small ice cream parlour. The interior was cool, with pale yellow walls. Jack took off his sunglasses and perused the menu. ‘So, what will it be?’

Abbie stared at the list, bewildered by the array of exotic flavours. Blueberry and thyme, spiced strawberry
with balsamic vinegar, cucumber sorbet. There were too many choices. ‘How about a Guinness ice cream?’ she suggested.

‘Nah, I’ve tasted that one already. I always like to try something different.’

‘Honey and lavender?’

Jack gave her a dark look. ‘I’m not a lavender kind of guy, or hadn’t you noticed? Maybe I should take you back to the playroom and refresh your memory.’

Abbie shifted in her seat. ‘No, thank you. My ass remembers just fine.’

‘I’m glad to hear that. Now, for you, I’d recommend the vanilla bean and brown sugar.’

‘Vanilla?’ She pulled a face. Despite their earlier encounter, was she still too vanilla for Jack?

He leaned across the table and took her hand. ‘Hey, I happen to like vanilla. Maybe we can get some to take out and I can lick it off your breasts.’

Abbie looked around her, hoping that no one had heard him.

He gave her an unabashed smile. ‘If you don’t want vanilla, how about some Phish Food? You know, sex on the beach? I’d really like to see you naked, rolling around in the surf.’ Jack was shameless and he didn’t care who was listening.

She flushed, trying to ignore the stares coming from the couple at the next table. ‘I think there might be a law against that. Besides, you might have underestimated me. Maybe I’m really into Rocky Road.’

‘Rocky Road, huh?’ Jack didn’t look convinced. ‘A lot
of people don’t understand Rocky Road. They think it’s all about the hard bits, but it’s not. The marshmallow plays a very important part.’

‘I do? I mean, it does?’

‘Sure.’ Jack stroked her hand, tracing a path along each finger in turn, kneading gently at the tender skin between each joint. ‘When the nuts and the marshmallow get mixed up with the chocolate, they don’t know where they’re going to end up. They have to trust each other. Rocky Road needs huge dollops of respect, trust and emotion from both sides. But if it works out, well, it can be pretty spectacular.’