Crave Me Page 7

  “Simon—”

  “Sir,” I commanded, keeping my eyes focused on her pussy. Every light graze of my fingertip made her clit swell.

  Her lips parted as she watched me swirl my tongue around my finger, tasting her.

  “You’re delicious. I can’t wait until I can eat you until my heart’s content.”

  Her eyes flamed as I sucked her juices off my finger. I removed it from my mouth and pressed my finger against her parted lips.

  “Taste yourself, Chloe. See for yourself why you’ve already made me hard.”

  Her lips wrapped around my finger and she sucked me in eagerly, as if it was my cock and she’d been desperate for it. Desire raged deep in my gut and spread to my balls.

  I needed to get the hell out of there before I broke my rules.

  I tugged my finger from her mouth and stood. My knees brushed against hers and she leaned back, eyes slightly glazed, lips still parted. She swiped her tongue around the edges of her lips and grinned like she’d just been the one pleasured. “I like the taste of us mixed together.”

  Hmmm, the ideas she gave me. I didn’t show her the effect her revelation had on me, how everything inside of me was burning to grip her shoulders, toss her over her island and fuck the sass out of her.

  She’d probably enjoy it too much.

  “Friday,” I murmured and leaned forward. I ran my nose along her hairline, inhaling the sweet, minty scent of her and kissed her temple. “But be prepared. Until then, I plan on driving you wild with lust so once we’re together you explode beneath me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Without looking at her, I grabbed the folder from the counter and headed toward her front door. When I reached it, I turned back. She was still sitting on the stool, dazed expression as she watched me walk away.

  “Lock the door behind me, and don’t even think of getting yourself off before I take care of it for you.” I lifted the file folder and slapped it against my hand.

  She jumped, slid off the stool to her feet.

  “I’d hate for our very first lesson to be one of punishment.” I turned and left her apartment, nothing but excitement and desire heating my veins.

  Getting involved with Chloe had the potential to be disastrous. But fuck, she was beautiful and strong. Intelligent. Ran her own business, had travelled extensively after high school. She had conviction in her beliefs, compassion toward those who disagreed with her.

  If she wasn’t related to Cassie, she’d be perfect for me.

  * * *

  I spent the rest of the week steeling my mind for what was to come on Friday. Between classes and school and lesson planning and then two hours of hockey practice every day, I still needed to work out, pound out five miles on a treadmill and hundreds of pounds of chest presses in order to keep focused, and trying not to get a hard-on behind my desk whenever my mind strayed to Chloe. Seeing her every night tested my self-control as much as it was obvious it did hers.

  Tuesday, I went to her apartment, changed her bandages and left. We barely spoke.

  Wednesday, I lingered longer, took my time and asked her questions about her store. While she spoke, I ran my hands over her healing back, across the expanse of her lower back to the flare of her hips. When I brushed my fingertips over her ass, she shivered. When I slid my fingertip through the crease between her cheeks, she tensed before letting out one of those gorgeous, breathy little moans of hers.

  On Thursday, I gave her a bath. Massaged her shoulders. Changed her dressings and pressed kisses along the stripes. They weren’t looking quite so angry. The other marks were quickly fading. She didn’t flinch when she moved quickly. I pressed kisses to her shoulders, up the length of her neck.

  “Simon,” she’d whispered. Her voice turned needy and shot straight to my balls. Her light-pink painted fingernails dug into the white comforter beneath her. Her ass arched up, searching for a firmer touch.

  “Tomorrow,” I’d whispered. “Are you ready?”

  “Please.” She’d writhed beneath me, where I straddled her thighs to tease her. “Change the rules and touch me? Tonight?”

  I’d laughed and rocked into her. Through my athletic pants, I pressed my erection against her ass. “You need something?”

  “An orgasm. Please. Every night you leave, I’m so wet.”

  “I know. I like you needing me. It makes you feisty, which will make your submission to me tomorrow so much sweeter.”

  She mewled again, a sound of aggravation, a deep groan of desire, which almost had me caving. But it was what she wanted, and she needed to learn she didn’t always get what she wanted. Not with me.

  Another groan fell from deep in her throat and I climbed off her before I pressed her too hard, too far. I wanted her feisty, not angry.

  “You’re all set to play tomorrow.” I tapped her lightly on her ass and grabbed a card from the pocket of my coat.

  Chloe turned to face me, languidly stretching her limbs like a cat waking up from a long afternoon nap. Blonde hair covered her cheeks and the note in my hand crumpled at the edges from my tight grip. She pushed her hair off her face, smoky eyes almost fully dilated showed her lust and arousal. Like I hadn’t already smelled it coming from her when I lay close to her.

  I flicked the card onto the bed and watched her eyes stay on it where it landed inches from her fingers. I tugged my coat on and gestured toward it. “That’s for tomorrow. I’ll see you at ten. Figured you’d need time to get ready after your store closed. But don’t be late. I don’t like waiting.”

  She blinked slowly. Her lips tilted up at the edges, slyly, as though the idea of making me wait thrilled her.

  Yeah. I was going to enjoy tomorrow.

  “Tomorrow, Chloe.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Her quiet, slightly dry voice hit me in my balls like the softest and warmest mouth. They pulled tight, ready to empty.

  I spun on my heels, left her room and her apartment before I did what I really wanted to do—shove her face into my groin, force her to suck my cock deep down her throat until she gagged from it and for it, and then shoot my seed hard and fast, relishing in the way she’d struggle against my tight grip.

  Tomorrow.

  Chapter Nine

  Chloe

  “What’s going on with you, Chloe?” Tyra had been looking at me strangely all day, not like I didn’t deserve it.

  I blew out a breath full of puffed cheeks and turned to her. “I’m fine. It’s nothing, really.”

  Just my first meeting in almost four hours with Simon. Simon Delgado as The Dom. At the luxurious Alloway Hotel. Room 2331. I was equal parts anticipating and excited, as well as highly disappointed. When he told me one month, I had assumed we’d spend time at Luminous, or his place. Or maybe mine. A hotel, even if it was luxurious, was more impersonal than I’d hoped for. It reeked of morning after regret, and sneaking out in the middle of the night without anyone noticing.

  “You’ve screwed up three times while ringing up customers, Chloe.”

  I’d screwed up five times. She’d just been at lunch during two of them.

  “I know.” I pressed my fingers to my forehead, tried to rub the tension away but it was fruitless. “I just have a lot on my mind today, but it’s nothing bad. Just weekend plans.”

  “A date?” A perfectly waxed brow of Tyra’s peaked and she winked. “Tell me all about it. Oh,” she clapped her hands together and rocked on the balls of her feet. “Is it the guy who was here earlier this week? He was scrumptious.”

  I laughed, shook my head and went back to sifting through a new shipment of sweaters. They needed to be folded and placed on display tables. “How about you take the floor for the rest of the day and I’ll handle this so I stay away from customers so I don’t ruin anything else.”

  “And
ignore me about the date and the man?”

  “Yes.”

  She humped. Tyra loved men. All of them. It didn’t even matter that she was married, her husband was a Senator and spent more time in Lansing than with her, but they were both devoted to one another. She just liked to look.

  “You’re no fun.” I faced her, spreading out a cranberry colored cable knit sweater in tunic length without needing to look at what I was doing. “Tell me who the guy is. Please?”

  Tyra was also someone who was used to getting her way.

  I focused on what I was doing and folded the sleeves inward to the center. “He’s an old family friend, Cassie’s ex, actually.”

  A pit settled in my gut. He’d made it clear it’s all he would ever be, and while I was trying to remember he’d never be more, the twenty-one-year-old I had once been still hoped.

  “Yeah,” she snorted. “And I’m your cousin. Please. The man wants you.”

  I finished folding the tunic and moved to the next. “You’ve got it wrong, Tyra. Promise.”

  Her giggle filled the store, tinkling in a way that had me smiling despite myself. “Silly boss. I’m never wrong. And I’m willing to bet that pair of Jimmy Choo’s over there I’m right.”

  My gaze drifted to where she pointed. A simple, but elegant pair of nude pumps with the classic red sole. Four-inch stiletto heels, conservative enough to wear to one of my family’s gatherings, but sexy enough to let a man know you were sexier and more daring than you might appear to be. I lusted after them and had mentioned them to Tyra several times.

  “Fine.” I took the bet. He’d already promised me anyway. We’d never be anything more than sexual partners for a few weeks. It didn’t matter if he was in my heart, I wouldn’t be in his. “Deal.”

  We shook on it and I spent the rest of the afternoon putting away clothes while simultaneously trying to ignore the sliver of hope Tyra had put inside my head.

  * * *

  As the elevator took me closer to my evening’s destination, I clung to the card in my hand. I’d read it enough times in the last twenty-four hours to have every word memorized, but doing something was the only way I could stop from relentlessly fidgeting.

  Little Bird,

  Location: Room 2331 Alloway Hotel Room.

  Time: 10:00p.m.

  Arrive on time. You will have five minutes to prepare yourself before I enter.

  Present yourself to me. Face the door, on your knees. Knees spread, eyes down, palms facing up on your knees by the chair.

  You will wear one article of clothing. Choose something you think will please me.

  Tonight begins your training.

  Remember, sub, submission is your choice. Your gift to me. It’s something I will not take advantage of. Erase whatever preconceived notions you have about how this night will go, and think of only how pleased I will be by your obedience.

  Sir

  The bell on the elevator dinged as soon as I’d read the last word. No longer his name, as I’d called him every day this week, every time I’d seen him the last five years. He was already putting me in the correct headspace for this. Demanding and explaining. Teaching and expecting.

  I stepped through the open doors, walking gingerly down the red and gold patterned carpeted hallway toward the room where my night would begin. Forget the past. Forget any preconceived notions I’d had. It was futile.

  I had too many hopes built on how this night would go that by the time I walked into the room, the click of the lock engaging behind me, everything was a dull roar, muted from the thundering in my ears from my pounding pulse.

  I stepped out of my shoes, barely scanning the space in front of me. He’d rented us a suite, which I’d assumed when floor twenty-three in the elevator was the top floor. It was still one large room, a massive bed through an opened doorway on the far right. Ahead of me was a living area. An electric fireplace with a wall-mounted television above it faced a seating area. One gray couch, two black chairs.

  One facing the door, one with its back to it.

  I stumbled as I took my first step on bare feet, catching myself as I focused on the chair where he’d want me, facing him so he could see me ready for him as soon as he entered.

  Another quick scan and I hurried to the bathroom. I’d come from home, stopping by there to shower and get cleaned up after work and while I’d entered the room exactly on time if not a minute or two early, I already had the undeniable urge to please him as he entered.

  I placed my overnight bag on the vanity counter top and stripped out of my short black cocktail dress I’d worn to the hotel. I didn’t choose it because of the sex appeal even though it was one of my favorites, but because beneath it, I could wear the one article of clothing he’d told me I could.

  A deep, purple satin slip with the same colored lace covered my breasts. My nipples, visible through the lace, were already hard, pushing against the fabric in a delectable way. The satin barely brushed beneath my backside and I’d worn nothing beneath, per the rules of his card. At the back, the thin satin straps crisscrossed and rubbed over the remaining marks on my back. They still ached some, but not enough to deter me from moving forward with the night.

  With a brief look at myself in the mirror, my cheeks flushed as I fluffed my blonde hair before quickly braiding it and draping the braid over one shoulder. It wasn’t necessary, but I wanted nothing in the way of whatever he wanted to do to me tonight.

  I glanced at my phone and cursed.

  Two more minutes to go. I crumpled my dress and shoved it into my bag, adding the hairbrush. I dropped my bag on the floor in the bedroom and scurried to the living room.

  Settling to my knees, I shoved up the short slip to the very tops of my thighs and spread my knees. Goose bumps pebbled my skin, chilling me and making me shiver despite the warm air in the room. The carpet, coarse beneath my legs was in direct contrast to the smooth satin I wore.

  I was doing this. I had done everything he asked and now I only had to focus on one thing. Rather, one person.

  Simon. A vision of him appeared in the backs of my eyelids as I relaxed my breathing, steadied my racing heart. His brown ruffled hair, the intensity in his gray-blues. The way his lips crinkled when he smiled. How all week long he’d been gentle with me, taking his time to make sure I was healing properly.

  The very first night I met him, I’d noticed his plastic framed glasses first. He’d been all sexy professor and when I’d learned he was a teacher, my only response had been, “Of course you are.” His eyes twinkled at me like we’d shared an inside joke before he’d zoned back in on Cassie.

  And after that moment, that brief, shared thing, he’d barely paid me any attention the rest of the night, totally enraptured in Cassie’s tall and lithe body and her sexy manner radiating from her every pore.

  The door unlocked, the click echoed loudly in the room and every one of my senses went on high alert. My blood raced faster. Adrenaline coursed through my veins like a rushing river.

  He said nothing as he entered. Nothing as the door locked behind him. Silently, he walked through the living room. Cupboards opened and closed in the kitchenette off the entryway. Everything inside me screamed to look up, shouted at me to take a peek, to make certain it was really Simon in the room. But with my senses on alert, I already knew it was him. The woodsy scent of his cologne drifted into the air and tickled my nose as I remained calm, head down.

  My body warmed. My stomach tightened. I barely held back a shiver of anticipation.

  I was wet. My hard nipples tingled and scraped against the lace.

  The cupboards closed again. A whoosh from the refrigerator closing, and then soft footsteps headed toward me until bare feet peeked from the bottom of black dress pants, directly in front of my knees. God, I wanted to see him. Wanted to know if his eyes w
ere swirling with a similar desire boiling inside of me.

  “You’ve done well, sub.”

  I lost my hold on that shiver and it rolled down my spine. I’d pleased him. “Thank you, sir.”

  “You doing okay?”

  His hand settled on the top of my head, burning straight to my scalp. His caress singed me everywhere as his hand slid down, and then, a fingertip outlined the edge of my ear.

  “Yes, sir. I’m well.” I could barely talk. Lust and excitement were heating my body, making it difficult to stay calm. I wanted to reach for him, grab him until he restrained me, and pushed me down and took me.

  “Nervous?”

  I barely had to think about it. I shook my head. Excitement won, hands down. “No, sir. Not with you.”

  A rich, deep sound rumbled from above, a laugh or a sound of pleasure, I didn’t know. It didn’t matter. I was finally going to be Simon’s in a way I’d wanted for years.

  His thumb skimmed my ear again, dragged across my jaw until it was at the soft flesh at my chin. He pressed up, tilted my head to look at him, and when I did, my breath caught in my throat. My hands curled into fists.

  God, he was so stunningly beautiful, he rendered me speechless.

  His glasses were gone, and for one of the first time since I’d known him, my view of his face was unhindered. He appeared fiercer, more powerful without them. Less high school teacher and more wicked.

  “You’re exquisite,” he murmured, those eyes scanning my face, grazing my lips before dipping down to my slip and heating when he stopped at my breasts. “More beautiful than I even pictured you.”

  “Thank you.”

  One of his brows arched up slowly and he tilted his head.

  “Sir,” I quickly corrected myself. God. Why was that one word such a complete turn on? Like saying it had an electric current connected directly to my sex, my clit pulsed.

  “Do you want a drink before we get started?”

  I’d had a glass of wine after work while I was getting ready. More alcohol could go straight to my brain.