Break Me (7 page)

She stood in an open shirt with matching bra and panties, wiggling her pants down her legs until she was able to step out of them. I debated my next words, but spoke them anyway, softly, while brushing her skin with my hands. “I can see why he wanted to show you off. I can see why he liked seeing you in sheer lingerie. You’re beautiful, Claire. Simply, and utterly, beautiful.”

I wanted my tongue licking every inch of her skin. I wanted my tongue tasting her nipples, her sex, her bottom. I wanted the feel of her imprinted on me from my taste buds to the pads of my fingers. I wanted to know her, inside and out, and then I wanted to learn it all again, because it would be different. It would change each time I had her. More of her would come to the surface, more for me to devour.

I hadn’t let myself think too much about any of this. I hadn’t wanted the frustration it would bring if I’d never had the chance. Now, I couldn’t stop the thoughts, the needs, the hungers for the woman standing half naked in my living room.

“Come with me,” I said, walking around her and down the hall. I didn’t turn to look. I could hear her footfalls behind me, but more importantly, I could feel her. She wouldn’t disobey. On the contrary, she wanted very much to obey, perhaps, needed to do so.

I flipped the heavy blanket and single top sheet back. She stood just inside the room, enough that I could make out her shadow. “I’ll only ask this once. After that, if there is more than just this one time, the decision will always be mine to make. Light on or off?”

“On.” Her reply came swiftly and I flicked the switch on the lamp. It didn’t give off a lot of light, but it would be enough to see her and to let her see me. I needed her to see me, to see that it was me. I needed to know she could not only feel the difference in what she remembered of him, but see the difference, too.

I sat on the edge of the bed and motioned her forward. I was both pleased and mildly surprised that there were no hesitant steps. She didn’t delay coming to me, she simply did it. There was no blush, no sigh, no nothing beyond doing as I wanted.

I didn’t see her as a Beck and Call Girl, but I did like it, that she did what she was instructed to do, especially when I knew these moments had to be as difficult for her as all the moments leading up to them.

I wrapped my hands around her waist and slid them up her back. Goosebumps rose along her skin and her breathing hitched. Good. I wanted her reactions to everything. I wanted to be able to tell what she was feeling without words. We’d get to that at some point, but for now, I just wanted her to feel, to come alive.

Her bra had four catches. Companies should make sexier lingerie for curvier girls. Maybe research was in my future, finding her the prettiest, most feminine, sexiest bras and panties I could find.

She didn’t twitch or reach out to stop me. She didn’t move a muscle, save for the involuntary jumps every so often when I did something she liked. “Nervous?”

“Oddly, no,” she said softly. “I should be, right? I mean, it’s been a long time. We’re new to each other. There should be nerves, shouldn’t there? But there aren’t.”

“Good girl. I don’t want you nervous.” I removed her shirt the rest of the way and discarded it in a chair in the corner. I pulled her bra off with no preamble, no drawn out reveal. Just slid the straps down her arms. I wanted to see the areolas and the nipples pebbled in the cool of the air. I wanted to get her naked, but not without taking some time to savor the woman she was, to commit this first time to memory. “I can’t stop touching you,” I admitted. “Not a very Dom-like thing to say. I’m sure I’m breaking a rule somewhere, but you’re beautiful.” Her skin wasn’t blemish free. She had little cuts that had healed, little marks that looked as though she’d burned herself. She had a few stretch marks from having been heavier and lost some weight and vice versa.

I wanted to devour her. I wanted to eat and lick and nip at her. I wanted to mark her, brand her. I wanted her on her knees for me. I wanted her in my bed, my house. I wanted her to serve me. Not just the coffee I’d come to be served by way of her job, but personally, intimately, erotically. I wanted her submission.

“The pictures of you in
The Club
showed a woman who was at peace with her submission. That’s what I’ve always wanted.” I drew circles around her areolas as I talked. “I wanted from someone what I saw between you and Tim.”

Talking to her like this, sharing my intimate thoughts with her while she was mostly naked, seemed appropriate in a naughty sort of way. I was baring myself and I was baring her. She’d opened herself over the past couple of days and now I was doing the same.

“I’ve never owned a submissive. Played, yes. A lot.” I looked up and winked. “Skills, baby. I got skills.” She giggled at my words and I flicked her nipple, wanting a moan, too. I got one. “But I hadn’t found a woman I wanted to own. The way you looked at him, though? I knew I wanted that look aimed at me.”

I tasted her breast, first one, the underside, then the other, the nipple. She had her own musk as all women did and it had a slightly sweet aroma to it. Maybe because of the coffee and pastries she dealt with on a daily basis. Maybe it was just me, forcing a scent on her because it’s what I wanted her to smell like.

I explored her nipple with my tongue, with the very edges of my lips. Her breasts weren’t perky and they didn’t sit high on her chest. No, they drooped and hung, full and heavy. I liked that. A lot.

While I occupied my mouth, my hands pushed at her panties. She sucked in her breath. I glanced up to find her eyes closed, her mouth open slightly, and a flush on her skin. “Open your eyes, Claire. I won’t allow you to shut me out.”

“I… I’m not. I just…” She looked down at me. “Yes, Sir,” she said softly.

We kept our gazes locked as I continued removing her panties. It wasn’t until they were all the way down that I looked away from her face.

I groaned. Loud. And my cock pressed hard to the front of my jeans. I’d been hard since she told me to take her home and found out she meant mine, but this was a different sort of hard. This was a desperate, painful hard. I’d never wanted inside a woman as much as I wanted inside this one.

I put my hand against her pussy. “Spread your legs.” She did, inching her feet out to the sides. “More.” A few more inches and my middle finger was between the lips of her sex. Wetness greeted me as I slid the digit along, exploring her.

She was shaved smooth, but for a closely cropped thatch of hair at the top of her mound. It was dark, like the hair on top of her head.

I didn’t rush. I wasn’t rough. I simply fondled her, stroked her, pulled from her mewling little cries. But her eyes were still on me. “Such a good girl.”

“Please…” she whispered.

I leaned in and kissed her belly button, tonguing it before licking down. “Please what?”

“Please let me come.”

“I will. I promise I will.” Then it occurred to me… I sat up straight, but didn’t stop moving my finger. The more I did it, the wetter she became. “How long has it been since you had an orgasm?”

“I… I don’t know.” She ducked her head and tried to hide. I wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Do you masturbate?”

“Yes.”

“When was the last time?”

“Weeks maybe.”

“In that case…” I pulled her close, then lay back on the bed, my finger finally leaving her heat. I missed it already. “Climb up on me.”

“But…”

“Claire, climb up my body and kneel over my mouth. Now.” I held out my hand to her, to show her I was serious, and she grabbed hold, crawling her way across my hips and stomach and chest, until she was on her knees over my head.

She was beautiful, pink, swollen, and needy. I grasped her hips and urged her down, but she tensed and resisted. “Claire? I can handle you. Give me your pussy.”

“What if I’m too heavy?”

“You’re not. I promise. Let me give you what you asked for...” After a few seconds more, she did. I tugged and she widened her knees on either side of my head. I stuck my tongue out and swiped it through her labia as soon as it was within reach. I had intended to simply lick her, but that wasn’t going to be enough. I pulled her all the way down, until her pussy covered my mouth and my nose was buried in that small patch of hair. I ate at her. I licked and sucked and tongue fucked her.

She began to ride my face. It’s what I wanted. I wanted her to lose control, to gush in my mouth. I wanted her to find bliss with me, to find pleasure, and get lost in the sensation.

I held her ass in my hands, latched onto her clit, and worked it between my lips. Her body buckled and she dropped to her hands, grinding on my mouth. She sobbed and pleaded. Her pussy grew more and more wet and she stiffened suddenly, then shuddered. I slid my tongue back inside her and felt the pulsing of her walls around it. She continued to rock on my mouth and chin and I continued to let her until she collapsed to the side.

When I looked up, she was curled in a ball, her legs drawn up tight to her chest, tears streaming onto the sheet. My cock was harder than an iron pike, but I couldn’t do anything about it right then.

I turned around and gathered her to me. “Shh, baby girl… It’ll be all right.”

She nodded, but I’m not sure she believed me. Another piece of her had broken with that orgasm on my tongue. Sex with someone after so long without it was a profound experience. I was grateful, humbled, and falling hard for the woman crying in my arms.

Chapter Seven

Claire

I ached. Everywhere. My ribs hurt, my stomach muscles hurt, my thighs hurt, my chest hurt. Breathing in general hurt. Moving while breathing hurt even more.

I opened my eyes. Moonlight shone through the windows and the door to the bedroom stood ajar. I was also alone in the bed. And it wasn’t the bed I’d been in earlier with Jared.

With a wince, I sat up. I was still naked. But again. Alone.

After a trip to the bathroom in the hallway, I made my way to Jared’s room. The house was dark, the floors didn’t creak, and it should make me feel weird walking through someone else’s home without any clothes on.

Should. But didn’t.

I could make out his shadow on one side of the bed and I didn’t stop to think about crawling in beside him. I didn’t want to be alone and I didn’t want to sleep alone. I wanted to sleep with him.

“Claire?” His sleepy voice was warm and gruff and sexier than his fully awake voice. I snuggled into his body and he welcomed me by pulling me in tight. “Are you okay?”

Instead of answering his question, I asked one of my own. “Why did you put me in another room?”

“I thought you’d get a better night’s sleep if you weren’t in here. You were pretty shaken up after that orgasm.”

“I want to be with you. Please, let me stay.”

“You can be with me anytime you want, baby. I was just trying to look out for you. Didn’t figure you wanted me to maul you all night.”

I turned in his embrace. His chest was warm against my skin and his cock hard against my belly. “Is that what you would’ve done? Maul me?”

“Yes.”

“What stopped you?”

“How upset you were.”

“I’m not upset now. I wasn’t upset then, either. I was overwhelmed and really emotional, I’ll admit, but I wasn’t upset.”

“So, what are you saying?”

He was going to make me spell everything out for him. Maybe he was making me spell it out for me, too. “I want you, Jared. I… I need you.” God, it was hard. “You promised me something and I want it.”

“I did, huh?”

“You did,” I confirmed. I pressed my face into the crook of his neck and inhaled. He smelled of soap and sleep and man.

He rolled away, but not far. He flicked on the lamp and for a moment, I squinted until my eyes adjusted. I touched him and ran my fingers over his erection. He wasn’t unbearably long or unbearably thick and I wanted to know what he tasted like, how he’d feel between my lips and on my tongue.

Sex had never embarrassed me and wanting sex had never been a problem. And I wanted sex with Jared. All the sex. All the positions. All the ways. All the variations.

While he rummaged through something beside the bed, I took advantage of the situation and lowered myself until I could take him in my mouth.

Along the way, I took the time to admire his body. Lean muscles, a wound on his chest near his heart that made him flinch when I touched it. I drew back quickly, but he grabbed my hand and put it back. “It’s okay. Just surprised me. Bullet. In Afghanistan.”

“You’re okay, though?”

“Better than.”

He went back to his search and I continued with my inspection of his body. He had tattoos on his arms and his right hip. He was all the more beautiful for them. And he most definitely was beautiful.

When I reached his cock, I tested the width and breadth with my lips. Gentle at first, then more insistent until I had him inside my mouth, against my tongue. He froze for a moment, then put a hand to the back of my head, groaned, and pushed himself deeper into my throat. I gagged and he let up. I took a breath, and we did it again. And again. Over and over, until I could take him without issue.

I was a little rusty in my oral skills, but it all came back quick enough. It had been one of my favorite ways to serve. Worshiping cock. And God, did I worship it.

I changed positions and got on my knees between Jared’s legs. I cupped his balls, rolled them in my palm, and moved my head up and down on his shaft as though I were bobbing for apples.

His feet were beside my thighs and he planted his heels, and lifted his hips off the mattress. I’d missed this. I wanted this. I craved this.

More tears sprang to my eyes at my thankfulness of being able to do this for him, and for myself.

I hadn’t been on my knees for anyone since Tim and it felt so good to be on them again.

Jared pushed my head down as he lifted up again and the tears slid down my cheeks as the depth made me gag. His fingers tangled in my hair and he pulled me off his cock, pushing me onto my back as he climbed over me. He rested my thighs over his and tore into a condom packet. “Are you okay for this?” he asked, rolling the rubber down his cock.