What could possibly go wrong?
Chapter 5. Dominated
The moment Emily opened the door to her hotel suite, Paul threw his duffel bag inside and then took charge. With his hands firm upon her shoulders, he kicked the door shut, walked her backwards into the room, and forcefully pushed her up against the wall.
Lost in desire and anticipation, the sensation of hitting the wall shocked her into awareness. He hadn’t hurt her, but he certainly had her attention. Paul loomed over her. She was trapped, boxed in and dwarfed by the size and weight of him.
It felt amazing.
Everything about Paul emphasized her femininity. Emily felt soft and sexy, all woman compared to his hard masculine frame.
“You are such a tease,” he growled, capturing her with his body, his arms on either side of her, his hard male strength pressing against her. Paul’s eyes were dark and heavy lidded. “Now it’s my turn. I’m going to make you come all night long.”
“That works for me,” she said, choking off a bubble of laughter and wrapping her arms around his neck.
Emily reveled in an assault of sensation: his broad shoulders and flat stomach. All that solid maleness firm against her, imprisoning her against the wall – not to mention the rigid length of his arousal that pressed against her stomach.
He was almost a foot taller than she was, so she went up on tiptoes to meet his lips.
He took her wrists and pulled them together high above her head, pinning her there with one large hand. His other gripped her shoulder firmly. Holding her gaze, he stared at her with hard eyes. “No touching me without my permission,” he ordered with a no nonsense attitude.
Her eyes opened wide. “What? Why not?” she asked, bewildered.
“I like to be in control,” he growled back at her. “I particularly like to be in control during sex.” His lips firmed and his eyes narrowed. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Her brows drew down while she puzzled over his statement. Rational thought, in fact any thought at all, was difficult through the fog of her lust filled haze.
“What? Oh. God, no,” Emily said, forgetting to minimize the amount of words she spoke. “I don’t care how you fuck me, as long as you do. I swear to God, I have never been so turned on in my life. Just fuck me already, will you?”
She could see that he was surprised by her response. For an instant, she watched him struggle not to grin.
The tension broke, as he gave in to a smile and a boyish laugh. It captivated her. Emily loved the sound of it. Paul had been so upset the last time she’d seen him. So angry. So sad. So hurt. More than anything, she wanted him to be happy… and she wanted him to be inside of her. Right now.
He shook his head and snorted, unable to suppress a smirk. “Fuck you? Well, if you’re a good girl, I might do just that.”
What? He ‘might?’ Wasn’t sex a sure thing at this point?
His eyes moved to her lips, his pupils darkening with intent. Paul shifted his other hand, wrapping his fingers firmly around her jaw and nape. No one ever held her like that before, taking control of her head, neck and chin. Holding her immobile, exactly as he wanted, before kissing her on the mouth.
Now why was that such a turn on?
Emily never once considered that Paul would be commanding, demanding and just that little bit rough. Yet if he had been sweet and soft and slow, she knew that she would’ve been just as aroused.
A little voice inside her head chanted the answer: It’s Paul! It’s Paul! It’s Paul.
After so many years of being under his spell, and loving him from afar, Emily was finally in Paul Jarman’s arms. Talk about déjà vu. She had about a zillion hours of detailed fantasies of Paul, but this was the real thing.
He leaned forward and his mouth took hers in a bruising, open mouthed kiss. The feel of Paul’s warm, moist lips pressing against hers, and the scent and taste of him overwhelmed her senses. Combined with his crushing embrace, he made her head spin and her belly tighten with need.
Desire flooded her body in a wave of heat. Swollen, wet and ready, she’d never experienced such clawing need. His heady male scent and the feel of him besieged her senses. Her heart pounded at a fevered pace, thundering in her ears.
Emily threw herself toward him, into his kiss, reaching, needing, wanting it to never end. She wanted to be closer, to melt into him. She heard a male sound of pleasure as his sensuous lips pressed into hers, and her lips parted.
Her captured wrists struggled for release, she felt frustrated with the desire to touch him. Pulling against his restraint, she forced him to hold her tighter. Emily opened her mouth and his tongue plundered, exploring.
When her tongue found his, she moaned with the total rapture of it.
Emily’s knees weakened as he ravished her, an erotic dance of teeth, lips and tongue. Licking, sucking, nibbling and tasting, while breathing each other’s breath. With his kiss alone, she lost herself in all-encompassing sensation. Willing and pliant, she surrendered, giving herself completely.
Now Paul held her arms tight for another reason, because she was unable to hold herself up. His kiss turned her to liquid, almost melting her into a puddle on the floor.
Her wrists hurt. Emily vaguely thought that he might be bruising her, but she didn’t care. This was like her dreams only so much better. This was real.
Paul is kissing me. He wants me. I’m actually with Paul!
She heard whimpering and suddenly realized that the noise was coming from her.
Paul’s large body pushed hard against hers as he pressed closer, crushing her against the wall and flattening her against his upper torso. The pressure on her wrists lessened as his body absorbed her weight. Her breasts, swollen, and aching, responded to the feel of his firm chest. An electric jolt flashed down between her legs, making her core pulse and her clit swell and throb.
He tore his mouth away from hers, his eyes dark with lust.
“Oh God, yes!” she cried out breathlessly. Her ragged, heavy breathing sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet room. The soft white noise of her bedroom suite’s air conditioning was almost inaudible.
Emily’s entire body clenched, tight with anticipation. In the face of her shameless desperation, his lips curled with smug male satisfaction. It didn’t matter what he thought of her, she decided, as long as he fucked her!
Paul’s palm curled tighter on the nape of her neck, adjusting her to the position he desired. Emily’s head tilted back, giving him access. “You’re so good. Such a sweet, lovely girl,” he breathed seductively in her ear, and her skin immediately produced goose bumps.
The inexplicable joy she felt from the approval in his voice was beyond anything.
He nuzzled into her, breathing and licking behind her ear, sending shivers down her spine. Moving slowly down her throat, she moaned as his five o’clock shadow erotically scraped her sensitive skin. Stopping where her neck met her shoulder, his teeth were suddenly upon her. His searing mouth latched on, biting and sucking.
Ow! Is he giving me a hickey? But if he is, who cares?
It hissed at the sharp pain, but it also felt heavenly. The heat of him encompassed her, the sensation of his unshaven stubble rubbing against her only added to her pleasure.
He fisted her hair and pulled her head back against the wall. A tiny bite of painful sensation made her scalp tingle. What was that about? She mused in a blank, lustful fog. Getting off on pain made no sense at all.
At this rate, if he took a knife out and stabbed her to death, she’d probably die having the most intense climax of her life.
That thought made her want to giggle. Was it sexual hysteria? Too much of a good thing? Distillation or fermentation was not required for intoxication. Emily was drunk on hundred percent pure Paul.
“Look at me,” he snapped, apparently aware that she’d zoned out. His voice was low, sensual and imperious.
Maybe he’d been a king in a previous incarnation? It was a whimsical thought, but it he
ld an interesting bite of truth to it. Because damn, for as long as she could remember, bossy, overbearing Paul, seemed to always get his way.
Obediently, she stared up into his commanding gaze. He held her there, caught. Captured by his will.
By him.
Emily couldn’t look away, even if she wanted to. It was as if she was under an enchantment.
“That’s right, keep your eyes on me,” he told her in that composed, confident voice of his. “I’m going to make you come.”
This ridiculous understatement broke the spell. “No shit!” she snorted, teetering between manic hysteria and the edge of release.
A dark chuckle escaped his lips and his heated breath fanned over her neck. His beautiful hazel eyes were alive with amusement, and heavy with lust.
I’m glad I caused some sort of effect on him, she thought whimsically. Because he’s like a volcanic eruption to me.
Chapter 6. Volcano
As for volcanic eruptions, Emily felt like burning molten lava inside.
Could she get off from a kiss? If he touched any other part of her, skin to skin, she was sure that she’d explode. Emily had been worried that she’d be nervous when she finally had sex with Paul. She’d been anxious that somehow, someway, she’d screw it up. She had so many vivid sexual fantasies of what it’d be like to be with him.
Well, her fantasies, as amazing as her imagination had been, didn’t come close to the real thing.
Helpless savage need overwhelmed her. As if being carried down thundering rapids, and rushing over a waterfall, Emily felt totally out of control. Like falling from an airplane without a parachute, or sucked up by a tornado, spinning high above the earth. Emily wasn’t sure if she’d ever place her feet back down upon the ground again.
“Put your hands on my shoulders and hold on,” he ordered, releasing her wrists.
“Yes,” she gasped. Right now, she really needed to hold on, to him, to life, to her sanity. His shoulders felt hard and hot to her palms as she gripped him.
He untied her halter top, pulling the bra cups down and replacing them with his hands, one large palm on each breast. Fondling the swell of her breasts, Paul circled her areolas, teasing and tugging her nipples. He squeezed her nipples, gently, then harder, then gently once more. Emily writhed and moaned, her breath ragged. Her breasts were swollen and heavy, her nipples engorged and incredibly sensitive.
All of his attention was on her breasts.
Emily stared at him, captivated by the fierce intensity of his expression, the force of his personality and the stern line of his lips. Paul radiated power, pleasure and control.
All his focus is on me.
Pleasing Paul was a whole new source of joy for her.
As he continued to work on her breasts, waves of pleasure began to course through her body. She was soooo close to orgasm! When he put his mouth on her, suckling each swollen nipple, and lashing her with his tongue, she arched and called out. His fingers on her sensitive flesh were one thing, but the moist heat of his mouth was something else altogether.
Emily made constant involuntary sounds, keening and moaning, chest heaving, and pulse racing. She couldn’t move, no matter how she struggled. His hips had her pinned, locking her in place, as she fruitlessly tried to writhe and buck against him.
“Be still,” he commanded.
Lost in awe and wonder, without conscious thought, her body froze instantly. It was some sort of an animal instinct, this desire to obey him. Emily no longer felt confused, shy or afraid.
Having Paul take charge felt like freefall, or the stillness of meditation. She surrendered completely. To him.
Sex had never been like this. The way Paul used her body for his own pleasure… God. It was so intimate! She had no will of her own right now. He’d stolen it from her, taken it all.
No. Not taken.
She had freely and eagerly given it away. To him. Only to him.
Paul rewarded her with a sexy smile of approval. “Good girl.” He had complete and perfect control of her, and she’d never been so turned on in her life.
His watchful gaze never left her as he monitored her reactions to everything he did. While intently kneading and fondling her breasts, he gave her swollen nipples a hard pinching twist. Powerful sensation overwhelmed her. Pain again, something in the back of her brain whispered. It stung, in the most excruciating yet delightful way, causing flames of fire to lick down, right into her clit.
“You liked that,” he murmured. It was a statement, not a question and she giggled. His eyebrows lifted. “What?”
“It’s just…” Emily couldn’t stop smiling. “You just kind of have this thing for understatement going on.” She met his gaze and they both laughed.
“I’ll rephrase,” he said with a smirk. “You loved that, didn’t you, Candy? You love everything I do to you.”
The truth of that statement was so profound that she stopped grinning. She could only nod.
His dark eyes, forceful and knowing, were well aware of how near to climax she was. “Keep your eyes open and on me,” he demanded.
This directive was difficult, because the myriad of sensations that flooded her were overwhelming. Emily craved Paul’s touch forever, and now she had it. His scent, his heat, his heavy erection straining between her legs were more than she could have ever imagined.
It was sensory overload.
When her eyes began to drift shut from the weight of pleasure, he snapped, “Eyes!” She opened them wide once more.
He nodded his approval of her compliance. “Good, girl.”
Emily focused on the low, seductive sound of his voice, his words slid over her – making her feel ridiculously happy to have pleased him. Paul’s fingers trailed firmly up her thigh, along her hip and then slipped under her panties. Emily almost wept with relief.
“Spread your legs,” he demanded, his voice husky. Shamelessly, she obeyed, opening to him. Her breath came faster, her heart pounded like fists in her chest.
His hand delved down over her mound and between her thighs. Emily gasped and trembled. His large palm slid between her moist lips, spreading them open with knowing fingers. His thumb circled her throbbing clit. Rubbing with exquisite care, he explored the most sensitive feminine part of her, fondling, stroking and probing.
She was so close!
“You’re dripping wet for me,” he rasped in a low appreciative tone. The stern, angular lines of his face lightened with a slow smile.
Lost in sensation, Emily could only whimper in response.
When he pushed a finger deep inside her swollen folds, she called out. Teasing, and stroking her moisture over her swollen flesh, he continued to draw back in time to prevent her orgasm. Emily couldn’t stop quivering. This was heaven. This was hell! The tight ball of tension in her body had built to an alarming proportion.
“Please…” she begged, clutching hard to the broad shoulders of his muscular frame. She gripped him as if being dangled in the air from high above the earth. Emily held on for dear life, raggedly fighting for every breath.
Like falling off a cliff and accepting her fate, she had no say, no control of anything. Paul had it all. She’d never felt so sexy, so free, so safe, so alive, so uninhibited and liberated.
He circled and caressed; yet he never once fondled that sensitive bundle of nerves that throbbed and strained toward him, aching for his touch. Reality left her as the world tunneled. There was only him and his hands and body, taking her over completely.
Powerful sexual need made her want to sob or shriek in equal measure. Was she losing her mind?
“Please, please, please,” she continued the chant like a song… or more like a prayer. I’m going to explode! It seemed like a real possibility. She was desperate, panting for him.
Two fingers thrust deep inside her and she gasped. “I want to see you come for me. Come. Now.” Paul’s voice was harsh and commanding. His thumb tapped the hard aching bud of her swollen clit, once, twice.
That was all it took.
For an instant she saw Paul’s eyes studying her, dark with satisfaction. Then she convulsed and heard herself screaming. Her peak was long and strong and overpowering. Her inner muscles clamped down on his fingers as her orgasm rolled through her. A gush of feminine musk ran warm down her thighs.
Paul’s fingers continued to press rhythmically inside of her, soothing as she shuddered through her aftershocks. He milked every last bit of pleasure from her body, staying right there with her while she rode her convulsions, until her spasms subsided, then ceased, and her clit stopped twitching.
Emily’s knees were mush, her entire body relaxed and limp. Paul holding her against the wall was a necessity or she’d have slid to the floor.
The world went away.
An unknown amount of time passed, before she regained her senses. Dazed and badly shaken, Emily looked up into the beloved face she knew so well.
Oh my God! I just had the most spectacular climax of my life and I haven’t even taken my clothes off! I’ve loved Paul forever, but fucking hell! What just happened?
A storm of strong emotion welled up from within. Warm, wet tears rolled down her cheeks from the joy of it. She was overpowered by awe and adoration. Her lifelong dream was to be loved by Paul. He didn’t love her, he’d given her an incredible orgasm – that was all. Yet the profound, soul-deep pleasure she felt defied explanation.
What’s happening to me? she wondered, dizzy in the face of such passionate feelings. She blinked rapidly, trying to stop her tears. If she died right now, she knew she’d die happy and wouldn’t regret a thing.
“Very nice,” he murmured, his breath warm upon her. His palms held her face while he wiped her tears away with calloused thumbs. “I love to watch you. I love looking into your eyes, seeing them dilate and glaze over as you come.”
A fond smile of approval curled his lips, making Emily’s heart lurch.
“Thank you, Candy,” he said. The deep seductive tone of his voice rolled over her, making her shiver, creating a delight of its own. “That was a very good start.”