Chapter Three
He moved above her, his dark eyes full of lustful purpose as she clawed at his clothing. “Ah, lass, you know how to drive a man mad,” he whispered against her lips.
Her lust-muddled thoughts picked up on the switch in accent again and she pulled back. “Your voice has changed.”
He fumbled with the zipper on the side of her skirt. “What, honey?” he asked in a perfect Kentucky drawl.
“Nothing.” She pushed him on his back and straddled his hips, not sure what was up with her nutty mind tonight. Jetlag, maybe? “I think I need to return the favor, now, and really drive you mad.” Yanking the knitted top over her head, she pitched it aside. His growl of appreciation did wonders for her confidence and her self-esteem swelled. A wanton wickedness took over. She dismounted and stood next to the bed. He propped up on an elbow, looking a bit put out at her abandonment.
Ideas flowed to her. “I think I know what you’d like.” She peered at him through her lashes and shimmied her shoulders in a bellydance-type move. “I’ll put on a little show for you.” Her hips swayed, drawing slow figure eights in the air, the seductive movements familiar to her as she smoothed her hands over the mounds of her breasts, down the soft curve of her stomach, until they rested at the waistband of her skirt.
She wiggled her hips as a temptress within her took over. “Would you like to see more?”
“Mmm, yes.” Justin stretched out onto his stomach.
The game drew her in more. “Yes, what?”
His lip quirked at the corner. “Yes, my Mistress.”
The title set fire to her already heated libido. The zipper of the skirt gave way between her fingers, before it dropped to her feet. The lace bra soon joined the skirt.
She stood bare to the world, but without self-consciousness—if anything, his lusting eyes liberated her.
I haven’t forgotten you, what you desire from a man in your bed. This time the voice in her head belonged to Justin.
She’d worked long hours before this impromptu vacation and had too little sleep in the last few days. Jetlag, it’s jetlag and not sudden schizophrenia. He sat up, waiting, and with a steadying breath she unrolled first one stocking, then the other.
She slid the silky material through one hand and leveled her gaze on him. “Take off your clothes.”
He pulled the T-shirt over his head, pushed off the bed, and kicked out of his boots and jeans. She eyed the boxer briefs and quirked a brow. His eyes flashed before he shoved the white cotton knit down his hips, leaving him as exposed as she was. She approached with slow, measured steps—he remained still, watchful. When they were but inches apart, she stopped and stared at him through her lashes, his thick cock brushing her belly. His dark eyes branded her, and in that moment she knew she’d never be the same after tonight. It was as certain as the sun rising in the east in the morning. Inside of her, feelings ebbed and flowed—confusion, desire, and something deep within her psyche that didn’t have a name.
“Do you want me?” The words slipped from her lips, her voice carrying a foreign inflection. She swallowed as his dark gaze penetrated her.
“Aye, more than breath,” he answered, his voice a rough brogue. Desire welled up, powerful, taking a life of its own, and swept away the questions she wanted to voice. His nostrils flared as she traced a finger down the center of his chest. His pectorals were developed in a way that spoke of physical labor and not weight lifting, absolutely perfect. When she reached his navel, she slid both palms over the ripped planes of his abs until she grasped his wrists in a tight hold.
“Will you submit?”
He drew his bottom lip between his teeth and looked down at her through heavy-lidded eyes. It took a span of several heartbeats for him to answer, his voice low, barely audible. “If you give good reason.”
She wound the silk stocking around Justin’s wrist. Knotting it, she drew his wrists together behind his back, binding him. Never had she explored bondage of any kind, and this new territory thrilled her. She placed a kiss over his pounding heart before running her tongue over his flat nipple. He sucked air through his teeth as she trailed the tip of her tongue lower, sinking down until she was on her knees. Her lips teased the tip of his cock before she licked the salty moisture from its tip. She blew a breath over his glans and raked her nails teasingly down his thighs.
He growled and tested his bonds. “What would you have of me tonight, Mistress?”
Ashley grinned. “Hmm, that sounded too much like a command.”
She shoved him back to the bed, and crawled onto his lap. He leaned back on his hands as she let his tip toy at her entrance. This new bondage twist could be taken much further, she knew it as she locked gazes with him, but the fear of the unknown held her back. Opening the door to a much kinkier, albeit satisfying, sex game was one thing, stepping through it with someone she barely knew, another. Though not entirely true, she did know this man in a deep, intimate way, and she feared exploring it as she did BDSM.
She wanted sex with a stranger this evening, and she didn’t want to know Justin better. She didn’t care that his Kentucky drawl had been replaced by a Scottish brogue. It added to his intrigue, nothing more. And she certainly wouldn’t admit that she craved the Scottish inflection, the natural cadence of his voice, because how could she possibly know that?
She reached for him and wrapped her fingers around his girth in determination. On instinct, she stroked with a firm hand near the base and was rewarded with his sharp intake of air. She fell to her knees once more before him and took his head in her mouth, sucking as she massaged his balls. His hand wound into her hair, somehow freed from the stocking, as she ran her teeth lightly down his steely flesh.
“Aye, Mistress—you have not forgotten.”
The room grew hazy as uninhibited lust consumed her. She raked her nails down the solid muscles of his thighs. He grasped her upper arms and pulled her to her feet.
“You’ve always been one to taunt the wolf in his den.” He pushed her back on the bed then covered her body, pinning her hands above her head.
“Yes, when that wolf happens to be you.” She drew in his energy—it filled her like floodwaters—and lost herself to the woman within her she didn’t recognize. He tried to press his hips between her thighs, but she crossed her feet at the ankles in defiance.
“’Tis a game you have never won, lass.” He rolled her to her stomach. “For I’ll simply take you from behind.”
He slapped her ass, before his cock pressed between her butt cheeks. She arched, ready for him, needing him more than air. He slid his hands beneath her body, grabbing her breasts, squeezing her nipples between his thumbs and fingers as the tip of his cock teased the inner folds. They needed protection—it nagged at the back of her mind. He pulled back, her skin cooled at his absence, but he quickly returned wearing the latex barrier he’d pulled from his back pocket. His thickness broached her entrance, her body stretched, and the discomfort mixed with hot shudders of pleasure as he eased his way in. Nonsensical words spilled from her lips as she balled the comforter in her hands. Sensations were wrought from every cell in her body. In slow strokes, he sent wave after wave of electricity through her, knowing just how to hit the spots that drove her crazy.
How could a stranger know her so intimately? But Justin couldn’t be a stranger when he’d become a part of every atom in her being. His solid body pressed her into the soft bedclothes, sweat coated their skin—they were one and the same. He an extension of her, and she of him.
“That’s right, love. We are one.”
He’d read her mind, but it didn’t shock her as distracting images of a kilted warrior filled her mind’s eye, one of a princess warned away from by her elders, but who had paid no heed, for he alone fed her power. Pleasure built to a crescendo, pulled her from the thoughts, and she crashed beneath it as the climax sucked her under. Her scream mingled with his guttural cry in the most primitive of connections. They drifted weightless in an ethereal world. With eyes closed, she imagined she floated higher and higher, Justin’s weight gone.
Her eyes opened and she gasped. Below her was the strong plane of Justin’s back, and under him a woman—her. She flailed her arms as she brushed the ceiling of the hotel room.
“Easy now, you’re okay.” An opaque mist hovered near that had Justin’s voice.
“What’s happening? Am I hallucinating?” She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the moment away.
He chuckled. “Nah, love, you are fine. Calm yourself, feel me with you.”
She had lost her mind, no doubt about it, or had been drugged. “You’re crazy. I’m crazy. Oh, my God.” The ceiling pressed into her back.
“Trust me, Ashley.”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes in hopes she’d wake from the insane bout of lucid dreaming. Feel me, his voice echoed in her ears as his presence wrapped around her like a warm cloak. They descended.