WickedSeduction (12 page)

Her delicate curls smelled of musk, carnal excitement, raw
need. He licked the length of her slit, thrilled at the uncivilized noise she
made. Her cue for him to continue.

Wasn’t easy. She was working on the crown now, sucking the
caramel away, sweeping her tongue back and forth…

Praying for control, Tor tried to ignore what she was doing
and concentrated on enjoying her damp folds, the plump and rosy flesh. He
speared his tongue into her opening.

She made a gruff noise he suspected was satisfaction.

Tor wanted her shrieking with joy. He pressed the tip of his
tongue to her clit.

Marnie jerked in apparent surprise and settled closer,
clearly reacting with desire. Her heady fragrance did wicked things to him.
Drunk with need, Tor suckled her nub, recording the heat and smoothness of her
skin, how she tried to keep from wiggling.

Staying still was a monumental effort for Tor given how she
slid his cock into her mouth, taking him fucking deep. She cupped his balls
next, dragging her thumbnail lightly over them.

He bucked, unable to help himself, his rod screaming for
relief.

Not yet, not yet, goddammit not fucking yet.

Tor wanted to give Marnie pleasure like she’d never known.
In the few short weeks since they’d met, she’d enriched his days as no one else
had.

Steeling himself against the exquisite feelings she’d
produced in him, Tor focused on her happiness. He swept his tongue over her
nub, flicking the tip against the small rise of flesh, taunting and teasing
Marnie.

She moaned around his shaft, the sound muffled yet
delightfully coarse. A love song he wanted to believe was only for him.

Tor doubled his efforts, not giving Marnie a moment’s rest
from his tongue. She did the same with him, her mouth hugging his cock as she
slid up his length then down, hand fondling his boys, thumbnail grazing each
ball delicately.

Too much. He couldn’t stand anymore. His body wasn’t made to
endure excruciatingly wonderful torture like—

Tor’s thoughts stalled. He exploded on a harsh shout, coming
just as Marnie did, both of them crying out with unmasked delight. Climbing,
climbing, climbing until there wasn’t anywhere else to go. He floated down on a
blur of pleasure. She huffed out her air, swallowed loudly and continued to
pant.

“Wow,” he said first, barely able to form words. “I love
your version of kink.”

She giggled.

Tor finished his yawn. “After we rest, let’s try mine.”

Marnie had waited for this kind of bed play her entire adult
life. Games that made her hot with need but also allowed her to laugh.

She smiled at Tor trying to keep his eyes open. Within
seconds, he was out, features slack, his bound wrists not bothering him in the
least. He enjoyed life, his confidence in himself and everyone else astounding
her.

These last minutes would never have been possible with
Ethan. He had his ego to protect, an issue she hadn’t realized until too late.
If Marnie had been crazy enough to suggest tying him up, as she’d done with
Tor, Ethan would have accused her of being a ball-busting bitch, one of his
favorite expressions. If he’d been in a particularly foul mood, he might have
smacked her for getting out of line. He led and she followed.

According to Ethan, her father and other men like them, the
world had to work the way they wanted. No other options were possible.

With the help of her therapist, Marnie had finally
understood how control gave Ethan comfort. Deep inside, he was terrified of not
dictating what everyone would bring to his life even though he refused to give
anything in return. According to him, only sissies compromised. Real men held
firm no matter what.

According to her therapist, Ethan’s behavior didn’t make him
happy, since people can only control themselves.

“The more you try to force your will on someone else,”
she’d
said,
“the less of their loyalty and love you actually have.”

A simple concept Tor got, effortlessly drawing Marnie
closer.

God, how she wanted to be with him and dreaded the
possibility of them not seeing each other again. Not because she’d want to call
things off, but maybe he would. Who knew?

A short time ago, Marnie had told Alice about having to hold
back on her feelings. That she couldn’t get emotionally involved with Tor. A
lifetime seemed to have passed since she’d said those things. Marnie could
barely remember what her days had been like before she’d allowed Tor inside her
life. Allowing him to know who she really was. What she needed as a person and
as a woman.

She still had to tell him the rest of the truth so he could
make an informed decision about being with her. Only…when to dump more stuff on
him? Today, tomorrow morning, a week from now?

Marnie was still mulling over the problem when Tor scrunched
his nose and reached for it. For the third time, he’d pulled against his
restraint, sending his fingers flying into the headboard.

“Shit,” he whispered.

“Sorry.” Marnie crawled to his side. “I’m untying you now.”

He gave her a sleepy smile. “No longer the badass?”

“I didn’t say that.” After releasing his wrist, she gave him
a love bite on his nipple.

“Yow.” He lifted his head. “Am I bleeding?”

Men. “You can lose up to four pints without any problems.”
She untied his other wrist. “I saw that on
CSI
or
The Blacklist,
maybe
a true crime show.”

“Good to know.” He rubbed his nipple then the area where
she’d given him a hickey.

“Hey.” Marnie eased his hand away. “You’re going to mess up
my work.”

“Speaking of which.” Tor pushed to a sitting position and
checked the bandages on her arm. All of them were still in place. “Any discomfort
or pain?”

“If I say there is, will you keep letting me have my way
with you?”

He grinned. “That’s a given. Seriously, you okay?”

“My arm feels slightly sore but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Good.” He handed her the container with the cake and the
large wooden spoon she’d failed to use on him, preferring her fingers instead.
“Knock yourself out while I get the rest of our meal.”

She didn’t dig in. “You’re going to smear steak, chicken and
mojo sauce on me?”

“We’re going to have an early dinner in bed then play and
wrap things up with a bath.” Tor cupped her chin. “That’s where I baby you.”

Who was she to complain? Marnie had most of the cake
finished by the time Tor hauled in the food and beverages on two large circular
trays, one in each hand held above his head.

She spoke around the whipped cream in her mouth. “Where’d
you learn to balance stuff like that?”

“I waited tables for a lot of years. First, to pay Dante
back for putting me through art school. Next, to eat while I was trying to sell
my early work.” He put the tray with the chicken dishes, plantain chips and
beef-stuffed cassavas next to her. From the other tray, he took a fork and a
beer, handing over both.

Marnie licked whipped cream off her fingers before taking
the utensil and bottle. “Thanks. I’m going to specialize in domestic violence.”

He put the other tray behind them and joined her on the bed.
“In your social work stuff?”

She nodded, needing him to know that much at least. “I want
to work with women to keep them from ruining their lives and ultimately their
kids’ futures too.”

“I have no doubt you’ll be great.” He kissed her lightly.
“If you want help with your math so you can put it behind you, let me know. No
reason to suffer when I can make things easier.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You haven’t. I’m offering.” He cut a piece of the cutlet,
scooped up a wad of grilled onions and popped the combo into his mouth. “Fuck,
this is good.” He tried the skirt steak with chimichurri sauce next, moaning as
he chewed. “You have to try this.”

With a taste of both meats on his fork, he offered the food
to her.

Whoa,
she thought as she chewed. He was right. Marnie
ate another bite of his entrees and offered him a taste of her chicken dishes.

As they ate, they discussed their respective careers with ease,
Tor asking questions about her schoolwork, classes she’d yet to take, Marnie
wanting to know if he’d ever considered working with oils like Van Gogh did.

“I’ve done every medium,” he said. “I may go back to oils
someday, though not now. I wasn’t good with them.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I’ll have to show you my early work. It ain’t pretty.” He
shuddered. “Actually, I’m kind of embarrassed at how awful those paintings
are.”

Marnie rested her hand on his thigh. “You were learning. You
have nothing to feel bad about. Hell, I’m so screwed up, I’m going to a
therapist.”

He stopped spooning Spanish sauce over the fricasé de pollo.

Oh shit.
Marnie had wanted to tell him about herself,
though not like this. The words had seemed to fall out of her mouth.

“I think that’s great,” he said, turning to her. “Is the
therapy helping with what your father did to your mom and you?”

“More than I’d hoped. I should have gone a long time ago.”

“You’re going now.”

She nodded, grateful she’d finally had the chance. If Marnie
had tried to go to therapy when she and Ethan had been together, he would have
surely beaten her senseless. He’d done all he could to imprison her, his last
act so selfish and ruthless, she finally knew she had to run.

She wanted to tell Tor about those terrible days but still
found the thought of doing so too hard to face. He was such a nice guy—he would
never say anything bad. He certainly hadn’t when she’d told him about going to
a shrink. However, his real thoughts on the matter might be something entirely
different.

“I’d like to ask you something,” she said.

“Sure. What?”

“I want you to be totally honest, okay? No lying or being
nice to spare my feelings.”

“Even if I didn’t agree with you, I wouldn’t be cruel. And I
certainly wouldn’t lie.” He seemed surprised she’d have to mention such a
thing. “What do you want to ask?”

“You don’t think I’m silly for going to therapy?”

He frowned. “Who would? A lot of my friends enlisted and
served in Iraq because of 9/11. Those who came home needed to talk about what
they’d seen and done, especially when the invasion turned out to be a sham.
Some went for help. Others didn’t. Believe me, the guys who admitted they
needed support are a lot happier today. I’m glad you’re going.”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Being you.” She hugged him. “Let’s play again. I’m ready.”

Marnie couldn’t wait a second longer.

Tor put the trays on the floor, their empty beer bottles on
the nightstand. Reaching past Marnie, he grabbed the tops she’d used to bind
one of his wrists.

“Move over to the headboard,” he said, untying the knot and
separating the garments. “Don’t lie down, keep sitting.”

She leaned into him, brushing her lips over his, her breath
scented with beer and spices. “Gonna tie me up to have your way with me?”

“Better.”

With an intrigued expression, Marnie did as he asked,
holding her wrists out for him to tie.

He cherished the trust she was showing him. “Turn around.
Arms behind your back.”

Marnie glanced at the tank top. He was flipping the fabric
into a long cord as she had. Once her back was to him, Tor tied her wrists. Not
enough to be uncomfortable, though she would have some difficulty getting free.
Finished, he rested his chin on her shoulder, enjoying the lingering fragrance
of shampoo in her hair. “Comfortable?”

“Uh-huh.”

She sounded aroused. Good.

After positioning and plumping the pillows in the center of
the headboard, Tor helped her to them, making certain none of her weight fell
on her bandaged arm. He eased the back of her head to the wood, leaving her
hair mussed, though he did ease one tress over her shoulder, the tip curling
above her breast. Next, he moved Marnie’s legs until she had the left one
slightly to the side, the right one bent at the knee, the sole of her foot on
the comforter. The angle allowed him to see Marnie’s cleft, the moist folds
peeking out from her delicate curls.

His cock awakened with interest, lengthening and growing
hard. He ignored his urge to run his fingers up Marnie’s slit, to taste her
juices. Tor had other things he had to do first. He sat next to her and drew
Marnie’s nipple into his mouth, suckling strongly as he knew she liked.

A breathy moan spilled from her.

Tor drew out the pleasure, enjoying her contented sighs. He
flicked his tongue over her erect tip one last time and turned to Marnie’s
other nipple, drawing her flesh into his mouth. She straightened slightly,
which lifted her breasts, offering them to him.

Tor kept falling more in love with her.

After a few minutes, he stopped sucking and eased back. Her
nipples were darker and damp from his mouth, the halos constricted.

Perfect.

With his fingers, Tor combed the curls between her legs,
noting how her breathing quickened. After planting a kiss on her silky belly,
he left the bed. “Be right back.”

“From where?”

“Next room over. Don’t move.”

She tilted her head. “If I do?”

Tor smiled. “You’ll see.”

He returned a few minutes later with his sketchpad and
chalks.

Marnie stared at the items. “No way is this going on the
wall of fame at the parlor.”

“Nope. Once the portrait’s done, it stays in here.” He sat
cross-legged at the foot of the bed. “This baby’s going to look like you. No
screwing around with your features. They’re perfect.”

Marnie smiled shyly, her complexion darkening with her
blush. “Is this why you sucked my nipples? To give them more color?”

“They also tasted good. Try not to move. While I’m sketching
you, imagine you’re in a slave market about to be sold to a Sultan. He’s
observing each part of you closely—your naked breasts he’ll soon hold in his
hands, your nipples he’ll suck, the area between your legs he’ll know
intimately and often as he mounts you repeatedly each night.”

Her throat and the top of her chest turned red. “Do you read
erotic romances?”

Tor laughed. “Jasmina and Lauren do. Sometimes they discuss
the raunchier parts at the parlor. I can’t help if I overhear.”

“Uh-huh.”

Smiling, he began to sketch, focusing as a slave owner would
on the folds between her legs, her lavish hips, full breasts, plump bottom lip
and finally Marnie’s eyes, hooded with arousal. Tor guessed she wasn’t thinking
about the dumb plot of a romance right now. Having him regard her so intimately
and for such a prolonged period clearly turned her on, exactly as Tor had
planned. He interrupted his work to brush her hair aside and suckle her nipples
once more, his actions unnecessary. As he’d said, Marnie was perfect. However,
what he’d done deepened her blush, her excitement evident.

Minutes passed in silence between them with other sounds
filtering in—the swoosh of tires from vehicles passing on the street, his
refrigerator kicking on, the rush of cool air spilling out of the ceiling
vents.

Whatever Marnie was thinking must have been wickedly good,
her parted lips and glazed expression precisely what Tor had wanted for her
portrait…and for their new game once he’d finished with the sketch. He didn’t
dawdle, his movements swift and precise. Soon, Tor had what he wanted. Filling
in the details would come later. He put the pad to the side, used the comforter
to wipe chalk from his fingers and moved to her.

Marnie blinked slowly as though coming out of an X-rated
trance. “Finished?”

“For now.” He eased her away from the headboard and untied
her wrists.

“Let me see what you drew.”

Tor gestured to his pad at the foot of the bed. He smiled
when Marnie crawled across the mattress, legs parted, ass lifted and facing
him, exactly as he’d wanted. As she regarded his sketch of her, Tor studied
Marnie’s voluptuous ass, her plush cheeks perfect for his hands.

She looked over, her smile filled with what looked like love
to him. “You put in the tats.”

“Not completely. When I finish they’ll be the same in the
sketch as they are on you.”

Marnie turned back to the drawing, the ends of her hair
swinging above the comforter. “This is amazing.”

He studied her damp slit, the tight ring of her anus. Yeah,
she was amazing. “Finished looking?”

“I guess. Why?”

“Don’t move.”

She looked over again, disobeying him so easily. “Why?”

“Didn’t I tell you not to move?”

“Yeah—why don’t you want me to?”

Tor folded his tank top into a long strip. “Do you have any
idea how bad you’re being?”

Marnie regarded his top as she might a whip. “Uh-huh.”

Her voice couldn’t have sounded huskier.

With his garment in hand, Tor crawled across the mattress to
her. “Head forward.”

This time, Marnie didn’t ask why. She grinned knowingly and
did as he asked, plainly trusting his game, knowing he’d never harm her. Her
confidence in him encouraged Tor to position his top over her eyes. After tying
the ends in back, he eased the soft cotton to the center of her forehead and
nearly to the tip of her nose.

“Can you see anything?”

Marnie cleared her throat. “No.”

“Want to continue?”

“God yeah. Don’t stop. Do me good.”

Hell, he was beyond lucky to have met her. He was fucking
blessed. Grinning, Tor rolled his other top into a cord. “How’s the arm?”

“I can’t feel anything except my pussy. I think it’s going
to burst if there isn’t some action soon.”

Laughing softly, he moved to the front of her. “Put your
wrists together.”

The moment she had, Tor tied his top around them, again
tightly enough to hold her but not to harm.

“Rest your arms and forehead on the mattress. I’ll help.”

With his fingers buried in her hair, Tor eased her down to
the position he wanted, making certain she wasn’t in any distress. He rested
one hand on the small of her back, the other on her belly and pushed slightly.
“Raise your ass.”

She did.

Tor moved to the back of her, his weight shaking the
mattress, his cock scarcely bobbing. The thing was too fucking hard, his excitement
almost impossible to rein in. He ran his hands down the insides of her thighs.
She inhaled sharply. He held back a groan of desire and pushed against her
legs, spreading them even more, preparing Marnie’s body for his use, their
pleasure. To heighten the experience for her, Tor kept adjusting small
things—fanning Marnie’s hair across the comforter, turning her right foot
slightly to match the position of the left, stroking her fingers so she’d
loosen her fists and place her palms directly on the bed. Tor knew each second
he delayed the inevitable served to increase her anticipation.

She finally let out an edgy sigh.

His cue to grab a condom from the nightstand drawer. He
tossed the packet on a pillow and crawled to her side. “You’ve been bad.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You need to be punished.”

“Fuck yeah.”

He struggled against laughing, not wanting to ruin the
charged mood he’d created for her. Of course, he didn’t want to alarm her
either. “The first time you cry out, this stops.”

“I’ll be quiet. Go on, please. I want this with you. I’ve
never agreed to do this with anyone else. I didn’t think I could until we met
and I knew what a good guy you are.”

Wow. How was he supposed to discipline her after such a
confession? Tor wanted to talk her out of the game but figured Marnie needed a
guy to respect her wishes, not try to change her mind on what she wanted.

His face and chest got hot with the tempest of emotions
coursing through him, perspiration dampening his upper lip and neck. He rested
one hand at the top of her ass, lifted his other, and swatted her. The crack of
his palm against her cheeks sounded huge to him.

When he didn’t continue, she wiggled her ass. “Go on. I
barely felt what you did. Harder.”

Tor held back for several minutes before he finally loosened
up, his paddling growing as firm as she wanted, enough to sting his hand and
surely her cheeks. He’d pinked them up quite a bit. Marnie whimpered as though
she were having an orgasm or was close to one.

He paddled her again.

“Stop,” she said.

He did instantly, puffing harder than she did, as though
he’d run to the top of Mt. Everest. Excitement and arousal dashed through Tor,
surprising him. He’d done kink with other women, even the spanking thing,
finding the game kind of dumb. Not with Marnie. Because she’d enjoyed herself
so much, he had too. They’d definitely have to try this again. First, though…

Tor opened the packet, slipped on the lime green rubber, and
mounted Marnie.

She lifted her head and let out an indelicate cry.

“Yes,” she shouted, pushing her ass toward him, taking more
of his cock inside. “Keep going.”

He’d be crazy not to. Marnie was fucking unstoppable,
backing into him as he pumped into her, their bodies smacking each other
loudly, joyously. Taking control, Tor gripped her hips, his fingers pressed
into her, signaling her to keep still.

She finally settled, allowing him full charge over her body
and enjoyment. He stared at his cock sliding in and out of her sheath, her
moisture glistening on the condom. Fucking gorgeous. Each tap of his balls against
Marnie’s body sent a blast of pleasure through Tor. He didn’t want to rush but
couldn’t slow down. Every time he tried, she pushed into him, squeezing her
inner muscles around his shaft.

Growling, Tor kept up the pace, finally slipping his hand
around Marnie’s leg to her clit. His first stroke had her flinching. On the
next, she cried out. By the fifth or so, she no longer tightened her pussy,
clearly fixated on her own climax.

He couldn’t have been happier, propelling them both toward
the crest. Her shout of release coaxed him past restraint. Tor’s orgasm hit him
with the force of a hurricane, making him woozy, stealing his breath. Unsteady,
he leaned down but didn’t rest. Time enough for that when they were in their
nineties. With his cock still tunneled deeply within her, Tor slipped his arm
around Marnie’s waist, hauling her to a kneeling position.

Panting, she turned her head to the side. “What are you
doing?”

“You’ll see.”

“I’m blindfolded.”

“You’ll feel.” He took both her wrists in one hand, holding
them to her chest and slid his fingers over her clit.

At his first stroke, Marnie stiffened against him. “No, no,
no. I can’t. Too much.”

Tor slowed his strokes. “Say the word and this stops.”

She dropped her head and groaned.

“Is that the word?” he asked.

Her shoulders shook with her laughter. “No. Fuck. Go on.”

He did, alternately rubbing her nub and circling it so
Marnie wasn’t sure when he’d bring her to completion. Not knowing seemed to
make her hypersensitive. Each move he made, every touch, pulled a new noise
from her, all of them rich with lust.

She pressed against him finally, as though to get away from
his hand. Tor slowed his strokes in response. The moment he had, Marnie thrust
her hips forward, moving her clit closer to his touch. He acknowledged her
desire by stroking her without stopping, firmly and fast.

She climaxed within seconds, her gratified moan filling the
room, her body trembling within his embrace.

Tor brought them down to the mattress, his rod nestled
safely within Marnie’s sheath, their bodies as close as possible. Sated for the
moment, he conked out.

No matter how wonderful heaven might be, Marnie couldn’t
believe the place could be any better than what she’d experienced with Tor.

She’d fallen asleep more easily than she had in years and
awoke sometime later, surprised her makeshift blindfold was gone, wrists free,
cunt empty. Hell, that wasn’t right. She rolled over, disappointed Tor wasn’t
on the bed. Their tray of food remained on the floor, many of the dishes
unfinished. He couldn’t be in the kitchen cooking more stuff. Marnie was about
to call out for him when she heard tapping noises from somewhere down the hall.
Suddenly, she smelled his signature scent, citrusy and clean. Was he in the
bathroom washing without her? No way. He’d promised Marnie a bath.

She rolled to the edge of the bed, stopping as Tor padded
inside.

“Hey,” he said, pointing. “Careful of your bandages.”