The Edge of Jasmine: A Hotel Bentmoore World Novel (BDSM Romance)

BRIAN STARTED THINGS OUT SLOW with Samantha. For a couple of weeks, he took her to restaurants, comedy shows, art exhibits, and the like, keeping things light and casual on their dates. After the uneasy questioning she’d hit him with on their first date, as well as the way she had averted his own well-padded questions, Brian wanted to give her time to get comfortable with him. He needed her to see him as a regular guy, and not her former host at the Hotel Bentmoore. But going slow was pretty fucking hard.

Every time Samantha looked at him in a certain way, tilted her head just so, let out a gentle breathy sigh, his mind would flash back to how she had looked and sounded cuffed down to his table, suffering through his depravity. She had been so beautiful in her anguish, and in the end, she had begged him for more. Every time Brian remembered it, his balls twitched and his cock stiffened. It was getting harder and harder to keep things under control.

But his patience was paying off, he could tell. Samantha was much more comfortable in his presence now. She was back to teasing him again, worse than she had before when they had first met, and she wasn’t freezing up when he shot her back with a naughty retort. She laughed with him, and even started making her own moves to touch him now and then. Nothing inappropriate, nothing that could be construed as a pass. Just a squeezing of his hand here, a rub of his arm there–ways that friends touched each other all the time when they were close.

It was driving Brian crazy.

The fact was, he didn’t want to be her friend. He wanted much, much more than that. But he was afraid if he pushed Samantha too far too fast, he’d end up pushing her away completely. He would do whatever it took, even take things at a snail’s pace, to make sure that didn’t happen.

He had known, somehow, in their brief time together at the Hotel Bentmoore, Samantha could be more to him than just a talented, sexually astounding guest, and he had been right. While he was taking things slow, letting Samantha get to know him, he was getting to know her too, and he was quickly realizing how amazing a person she was.

If he was never able to call himself her Dom, or even her boyfriend, he still wanted to have her friendship. He wanted to keep her in his life, for good.

Brian knew what his feelings (and cravings) meant; he knew he might be in the middle of a life-altering relationship. It was scary as hell, but he felt ready for it. The only question in his mind was, did Samantha feel the same way about him.

If he could have read Samantha’s mind, he would have been shocked out of his shoes, and probably would have felt a huge sense of relief, too. And he definitely would have moved things along much, much faster.

Samantha was also going crazy, and what was driving her insane was the question of why Brian hadn’t tried to get her in bed yet. It had been two weeks already, and he hadn’t so much as invited her to his place. Sure, he’d kissed her more than once, but that was it. Nothing overly kinky, nothing that would make her feel too dominated, and certainly nothing that would physically hurt.

He’d hurt her so deliciously before. He had made her cry and beg and scream. The pain had been so intense, she had told him later it felt like she had gone through a religious experience. Didn’t he want to do that to her again? She wanted him to do that to her. She had only felt that way once, with him, and she wanted to feel it again badly. She craved it.

Maybe he was afraid he couldn’t deliver what she craved? That what they’d done together had been a one-shot deal?

Maybe he didn’t even want her in that way?

But no, he said he wanted to do evil things to her. So why wasn’t he making a move?

It was driving Samantha crazy.

The frustration was beginning to wear on her. She was starting to serve him sarcastic comments, getting lippy, and overall, acting more like a childish brat than a polite, mature young woman. Brian had once told her she was a smart-assed masochist, and boy, was she living up to the label. She certainly was acting like a smart-mouth minx when she was with him.

Brian must have been able to sense the change in her behavior; it was glaringly obvious. Yet he didn’t call her on it, he didn’t even let on if he noticed it or not, which frustrated her all the more.

She didn’t want him to ignore her bratty behavior. She wanted him to punish her for it. Take me over your knee and spank me, she thought. Discipline me for my horrible conduct. Make me beg for forgiveness. Make me submit. Please.

It got to the point where she was beginning to wonder if Brian wasn’t purposely ignoring her insolence. Maybe he knew her frustration was stemming from her acute and constant arousal, and he was enjoying her dilemma? Maybe he was waiting for her plight to get so bad, she would beg him to take her to bed and fuck her brains out?

Well, she wouldn’t. She had more pride than that. Right?

Right?

About three weeks after their first dinner together at Amelia’s, things came to a head. Brian was scheduled to pick her up from her house and take her to a movie theater a few blocks away. The theater was small, and kind of old, but the screens were huge and the seating areas were never crowded. The plan was that Brian would pick her up a few minutes before the movie was scheduled to start.

He was not going to come inside before they left for the movie. Just like Samantha had never been inside Brian’s house, he had never been inside hers. This was mainly because the first time Brian had picked her up on a date, Samantha had asked Brian to stay in his car and honk the horn from outside, so she could come out to him. At the time, Samantha had asked him to do it this way so she wouldn’t have to go through the process of introducing him to her sister. Now Brian did it this way every time; he sat in his car, honked his horn, and waited for her to come out.

After a while, Samantha realized Brian probably thought she didn’t want him in her house. But now she didn’t know how to get him inside without looking like she wanted him to come in for sex.

Of course, she did want him to come in for sex. She just didn’t want it to be so obvious.

But tonight she was done with caring how obvious she looked, and she was too angry to care about seeing another stupid movie. She had gotten into a fight with Kimberly that morning, a customer at her shop had cancelled a huge order that afternoon, and to top it all off, the batteries in her vibrator had gone dead. Samantha’s irritation was at an all-time high.

She was still putting her skirt on when she heard Brian’s car honk outside. He can wait, she thought.

She took her time picking out her stockings, and then took some more time finding the right shoes. Brian’s car horn rang out again, longer this time, like he was keeping his hand pressed to the wheel. Samantha grinned slyly to herself.

A minute later, her doorbell rang, and Samantha went to get it–but not very quickly.

“Is everything okay?” Brian asked, giving her an impatient look. He scanned the area past her shoulder, trying to see if anything was going on inside.

“I’m running late,” Samantha said. “Come on in.” She didn’t wait to see if he would follow, but turned around and walked into the kitchen.

“Are you going to be ready soon?” Brian barked behind her. “If we don’t leave now, we’ll miss the beginning of the movie.”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Samantha said, her voice chirpy. “I’m almost done.” She found her purse on the kitchen counter, pulled out her lipstick and mirror, and did a careful job of applying the rich red color to her lips while she studied her reflection.

Brian didn’t move as he watched her slow movements. Samantha could feel the irritation radiating off him. Good, she thought. Let him crack that placid demeanor for once. Let him lose a little control.

She put the lipstick and mirror back in her purse, then started rummaging through it.

“What are you looking for now?” Brian snapped.

“My phone,” Samantha said. “I need it. It’s not here.”

“Do you know where else it could be?”

“Maybe in my room.” She strode up the stairs, again without giving Brian a backwards glance, and scanned the surfaces of her room for her missing phone. When she couldn’t see it right away, she began to pick up papers and clothes to see if the phone could be under them.

“Samantha, we’re going to miss the movie,” Brian said. He had come up the stairs behind her, and was standing in her doorway, watching her search.

Samantha didn’t look up. “I’m sorry, Brian, but as you can see, I’m looking. Why don’t you help?”

Brian paused. “What do you want me to do?”

“The laundry room is back downstairs, through the kitchen. Why don’t you go see if I left my phone in there?”

“Why the hell would you leave your phone in the laundry room?”

“Maybe I took it out of my pocket before I washed my clothes? I don’t know. Just go look!”

Brian disappeared for a couple minutes, during which time Samantha did nothing but stand in the middle of her room with a devious expression on her face. She quickly wiped it away when she heard Brian’s footsteps returning.

“It’s not there,” he said. “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’re too late to catch the movie.”

“Oh well,” Samantha said with a mock sigh. “I guess we’ll have to think of something else to do.”

Brian’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not sorry at all.”

“Not really, no.”

He lifted his brows. “Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to see the movie?”

“I didn’t really care. But you seemed so eager to go see that chick flick…”

“I was only taking you to see that movie because you said you wanted to see it last week, and you know it.”

“No,” Samantha said, “I said it sounded like a nice movie. You’re the one who said we should see it. Chick-flick man,” she added. “It actually surprised me you would be that interested in watching such a sappy movie. But it’s fine. Really. Most women would be happy to have a boyfriend who loves to watch chick-flicks.”

“Oh? And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you want a boyfriend who likes watching chick-flicks? Or did you not just call me your boyfriend?”

Samantha’s mouth snapped shut. For once, she was at a loss for words. “I didn’t mean that you are my boyfriend,” she said, recovering. “I just meant most women would love to have a boyfriend like that.”

“Uh-huh.” Brian crossed his arms and leaned against the door post, looking smug.

“I did!” Samantha insisted. “You can just think whatever you want.” She crossed her arms too, facing him off.

Something roused in Brian’s eyes. They became stormy blue clouds, and held her still with their gale. He took the few steps he needed to stand directly in front of her.

“I’ll tell you what I think,” he said, his voice a menacing whisper. “I think you want me to be your boyfriend. But I also think you want more from me than that.”

“Oh, really?” She said, proud of how strong her voice sounded despite the fear creeping up her spine. “And what is that you think I want from you?”

“I think you want me to be your Dom. You want me to take control, tell you what to do, and make you do it. But the thing is, dear Samantha, that if I do take on the challenge of being your Dom, I will declare certain rights, like punishing you when you misbehave, and disciplining you when you get smart-mouthed. Like right now. So take your clothes off.”

A jolt of arousal hit Samantha with his words, right into her core. Pangs of desire pulled inside her pelvis and groin. Excitement leapt into her eyes.

“You’re taking a lot for granted,” she said. “Who says I want you to be my Dom?”

“Who says I’m asking anymore?” He growled. “Take your clothes off.”

“No.” Defiance made her lock her stance and look at him boldly.

Brian pursed his mouth and took in her expression of mutiny. Then he grabbed her arm, pulled her to the bed, sat down, and yanked her over his lap.

“Brian!” Samantha yelled. In one fluid movement, he had shoved her skirt up her thighs, all the way to her waist. Her bright yellow panties, so thin they were translucent, were now on display for his viewing pleasure. Beneath the panties, her smooth and nicely-rounded butt cheeks squeezed together in alarm. The lacy tops of her thigh-high stockings rubbed together as she wiggled her legs.

Slap! Brian smacked her ass hard and fast, making a sharp cracking noise with his palm. Samantha shrieked and fought to get up. Brian pushed her down in the small of her back and held her down so that her head hung toward the floor. He trapped both her legs with one of his own so she couldn’t kick her heels up.

Slap! He smacked her again, harder this time, and held her still when she arched up.

“Brian! Stop it!” Samantha cried, but only half-heartedly. His slaps stung her unblemished ass like crazy, and it felt marvelous.

“No,” Brian said. “You’ve had this coming for a while.” He slapped her ass again, and Samantha shrieked again. Then he caressed the area of soft skin he’d just slapped, lazily kneading her creamy flesh. “Let’s see,” he said. “You’ve been mouthing off–” Slap! “–acting like a brat–” Slap! “making me late–” Slap! “–and not acting like a good girl should.” Slap!

“Brian! Stop!” Samantha said again, her voice full of laughter. Despite her protests, she was getting exactly what she wanted, and it felt wonderful. But to maintain the ruse, she struggled with renewed vigor to get off his lap. It didn’t do any good.

“It hurts!” She yelled. She couldn’t control the grin spreading on her face as Brian ignored her yells and spanked her ass again, widening the radius of pain that felt so exhilarating, especially after so long.

“I know it hurts,” Brian said, his voice thick. “It’s supposed to hurt. In fact, I don’t think it hurts enough. And I did tell you to take your clothes off.” Holding her still, he began to pull her panties down the slope of her rising ass.

“Brian. Brian, please,” Samantha whispered.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He began to spank her on the bare ass, using fast, rigid strokes, and Samantha let out a shrill with each one. He peppered her ass with slaps until Samantha was sure her butt must be glowing.

“As fun as this is, it’s starting to hurt my hand,” Brian said. He stood up, but twisted Samantha’s arm behind her back so she wouldn’t try to get away. As they stared into each other’s faces, Samantha giving him look of pure insolence and Brian looking back at her with unyielding dominance, he began to unbuckle his belt. Her eyes filled with trepidation as she heard the belt pull away from the loops.

“Brian, what are–” Her words were cut off as he pushed her back down across his lap. A second later, pain seared across her already tender ass. Another line of pain came down beneath the first. Brian was was whipping her with his belt, snapping it into her quivering flesh, using steady and practiced strokes. Her ass cheeks squeezed together in protest. The stinging leather of the belt came down again, and again, and again.

Samantha hollered and screeched. She had wanted to feel his administered pain, cry out with the strain of it, but she had never experienced a belt spanking before. This was not just a sensual sharing of pleasure through agony, this was a humiliating punishment. She was being disciplined like a two year old for her naughty behavior. It was demeaning beyond belief.

So why wasn’t she struggling so hard anymore to get off his lap? And why was she so turned on, she wanted to dry hump his leg?

As Brian walloped her with his belt, Samantha could feel herself sink deeper and deeper into subspace with each stroke. The belt bit into her flesh, welting her ass, hips, and thighs, and she moaned.

After quite a long time, she stopped struggling completely, and lay limp and relaxed across his lap. She didn’t make any sound as Brian continued to belt her. Her eyes closed, and a dreamy smile played across her mouth. Brian couldn’t see it, of course. The only thing he was looking at was her fiery and thoroughly chastised bottom. But he soon realized Samantha’s need for him to stop had blossomed into an entirely different need. He dropped the belt.

“Get undressed and on the bed,” he ordered. “And don’t say a word.”

“What–”

He smacked her ass with his bare hand again to shut her up, hard enough his hand print blazed on her ass. Brian smiled seeing it, then quickly took on a stern countenance.

“Undress,” he repeated. “Not a word.”

Samantha looked at him with wide eyes, and began to undress silently.

Brian left the room. By the time he came back, Samantha was naked and waiting for him on her bed. He stared at her from the doorway, looking imperious and wolfish. She was not lying down, but was sitting on spread knees, arched back with her hands behind her. Samantha had never been shy about her body, and this man knew her body very well, even if it had been a long time since he had seen it last. Far too long, in his opinion.

“Mmm,” Brian murmured. He took a moment to admire her sleek form, her softly rounded breasts, willowy curves, and articulated torso. Her smooth, sculpted thighs were shiny from her inner juices, and her cunt lips were swollen a deep rosy pink. Brian would get to that delicate pouty cunt soon, but not yet.

“I found these in your laundry room,” he said. He held up a bag of clothespins. “We’re going to have some fun with them. Lie down on your back, spread-eagled. And don’t move, Samantha.”

Samantha followed directions, leaning back and spreading her limbs wide across the bed. Her breath came in short, staggering gasps. Her senses, on high alert now, made her more receptive and sensitive to every touch, sight, and sound, and the sight of Brian standing above her, the sound of him rattling the clothespins in their little bag, made her hot with desire.

Brian glided his hand up her side to cup her breast, pushing it up, testing its weight. He brushed his thumb across her puckered nipple. She looked at him with half-hooded eyes. Then, grinning wickedly, he pinched it between his fingers and pulled, hard. Samantha gasped and flinched away.

“Better grab onto the sheets, Samantha,” he said. “This is going to hurt way more than my fingers, and I expect you to take it. I know you’ve taken much worse than this.”

“Brian, I–”

He grabbed her moist, sticky panties from the floor and held them up. “Open your mouth.”

“What?” She knew what he wanted to do, was going to do, and found the idea shocking. Exciting, but shocking.

“Open your mouth,” he repeated. “You need a gag.”

“Brian–” She tried to protest. He squeezed her jaw, wadded up the panties, and stuffed them in her mouth. Samantha sputtered and coughed. She could taste her own feminine tanginess on her tongue. The thick cotton muffled her, not completely, but enough to make her brays of protest sound muted and pathetic.

“There,” Brian said, watching her reaction. “Now keep them in there. And grab the sheets like I told you to.”

Samantha ceased her struggles and stared at him, her eyes wide and fearful. She knew what was coming with the clothespins. She had seen it done on another woman once before, at a BDSM dungeon in Phoenix. But she’d never experienced it herself.

Brian sat by her hip on the edge of the bed, making a comfortable space for himself. He took one pin out of the bag, held it up, and pinched it open. With his other hand, he ran his fingers around Samantha’s right breast. Samantha could only watch and feel his fingers touching her creamy skin.

He circled his fingers until he found the spot he wanted, on the heavy underside of her breast. Then he pinched the skin between his fingers, pulled…and fit the clothespin right on it.

He let go. The clothespin closed, squeezing her delicate flesh like a vise.

Samantha moaned into her makeshift gag. The grasp of the pin was tight and sharp, and her instinctive reaction was to get it away. She gripped the sheet instead, pulling at it with white-knuckled fingers.

Brian smiled, took out another pin, and placed it right on the same spot on her other breast.

Samantha whimpered.

Working methodically, and alternating between each breast, Brian lined the clothespins around Samantha’s pale mounds, making the tiny wooden jaws curve in a spiral around both her nipples. He worked the skin a little before he placed each pin, pinching and pulling at her warm pliant flesh. Then he would hold the pin up for Samantha to see, so she would know he was about to fit it onto her aching, tingling breast. He smiled every time she whimpered and groaned.

After a while, Samantha closed her eyes and turned her head away. She didn’t need to see the pin right before he put it on her; she could sense it coming. Her breasts felt pulled, taut, and bruised, and every time Brian’s fingers brushed against one of the pins, a stinging jolt would run through her breast all the way up her spine, and she’d cringe and cry out around the panty-gag.

“Samantha, open your eyes,” Brian said. Samantha opened them. Brian was holding up another pin. “Do you know where this is about to go?” He asked.

Samantha shook her head no, looking fearful. Brian chuckled.

“I can’t tell if you’re telling me you don’t know, or if you do, and you’re trying to say ‘no,’” he said. “It doesn’t matter. Open your legs.”

Samantha shook her head again, looking frantic. Brian grabbed her knees.

“Open them for me, Samantha,” he said. He parted her legs like a knife through soft butter. Samantha whimpers became high and desperate.

Brian gently took one of her outer vaginal lips between his fingers. He worked it a little, assessing its resiliency, feeling its softness. Then, making sure to keep her knees open with his shoulders, Brian aimed the pin well into her thick moist flesh, and let it close.

Samantha let out something close to a wail. Brian rubbed her legs and waited. When he felt like he’d given her enough time to get used to the sensation of the pin on her cunt lip, he took another pin from the bag and, looking intent, put it on the other moist vaginal lip. Samantha’s cunt was now pulled open by the pins.

Brian wasn’t done. He started lining her cunt lips with clothespins, working steadily up and down, while Samantha gasped and writhed and shrieked.

“One left,” Brian murmured, sounding disappointed. “Too bad. I was going to put pins on your nipples. But I guess there’s only one place left for this to go.”

Samantha shook her head desperately and tried to rise up from the sheet. Her cries were loud and plaintive around her stuffed mouth.

Brian pushed her down, shushing her softly. As Samantha watched with radiant eyes, Brian squeezed the pin open, aimed it home, and let it pinch close–right on Samantha’s clit.

Samantha howled. She twisted and thrashed her body on top of the bed. She jerked her head from side to side, trying to get a hold on the pain, trying to rise above it.

“Breathe,” Brian’s voice ordered. “Breathe, Samantha.”

Samantha took deep, convulsive breaths, trying to focus on the process of her lungs. It worked, somewhat. The pain was still there, making her cower in her head, but she wasn’t so desperate to get away from it anymore. She could take it.

“Good,” Brian said. “Good girl.” He stood up and took the panties out of Samantha’s mouth. With her face free of the gag, Samantha took huge gulps of air.

While she gulped like a dying fish, she heard the unmistakable sounds of Brian taking off his clothes. A second later, he was naked, and standing right in front of her with a huge, thick erection.

“Open your mouth,” he said, nudging her lip with his cock. Samantha had only a moment to panic. Her memory of Brian’s enormous cock had not been inflated. The man was really as huge as she remembered.

Brian pushed Samantha’s forehead back, and her mouth opened. As soon as her lips were parted, he aimed his cock right between them and pushed himself inside.

Samantha let out a stifled choke and tried to pull away. Brian’s cock was wide and hard in her mouth, and had hit the back of her throat in the first thrust. Brian held her head but pulled back a little, letting her get a feel for him. Her jaws relaxed, and her cheeks hollowed in as she held him in her hot, wet mouth.

Brian sighed in delight. He began to push back in, but slowly, steadily, letting her take him with her tongue. Samantha squeezed her eyes shut and took as much as she could, opening her throat so he could breach it, and Brian kept coming, down and in.

Then he started fucking her mouth with even, smooth strokes, never wavering from his rhythm. Samantha groaned around his cock. Saliva dribbled from her mouth, and sweat shined across her face and body. But her eyes were closed, her face serene, letting him know she was relaxing into the pain.

Brian raised his hand over the tips of the pins spiralling around her breasts and lightly brushed his palm across them. Samantha squealed and opened her eyes in painful surprise. Without altering the rhythm of his cock, Brian brushed his hand across the pins, up, down, and around, making them sway and dance across her breasts.

Samantha tried to pull away, making braying sounds of protests around his prick. Brian grabbed both her hands in one of his own, pinned them down, and with his other hand, kept sweeping across the pins. He leaned over her face to get his cock deeper down her throat, ignoring her choking gasps.

Then he reached down…and with two blunt fingers, flicked the pin squeezing her engorged clit.

The effect on Samantha was thrilling to witness. Her back arched off the bed, and she stiffed her whole body, digging her heels into the mattress. Brian flicked the pin again, harder this time, and Samantha’s eyes rolled back as she made let out a choked sob around his cock.

Brian knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. The feel of her warm mouth around his cock, partnered with the electrifying display of her pain, was sending him to the edge. But he didn’t want to come in her mouth. He had derived his own pleasure from her pain; now he wanted to give her pleasure, and feel it contracting all around him as her cunt muscles squeezed his cock.

Brian began to remove the pins from her breasts, slowly, trying not to alter the cadence of his cock that was still commanding her mouth with deep, level pumps of his hips. He knew there would be a secondary pain to the removal of the pins as the blood rushed back into the pinched flesh. Samantha moaned with each one, and the vibrations from her voice reverberated around his cock with delicious thrills.

Then Brian moved his hand down to take the pins off her cunt.

He stopped the gentle rocking of his hips before he removed the first one. Samantha opened her eyes, confused by the interruption. Brian met her look head on, sending her a message with his eyes, holding hers steady. Samantha took a breath.

Brian pulled each pin off fast, yanking them off her vulnerable skin. Tears fell from the corners of Samantha’s eyes. She sucked his cock like a child hanging onto a comforting thumb, nursing it with powerful pulls of her cheeks and tongue.

Brian almost came right then. He’d never had a woman react in such a way, using his prick as an oral comfort object. The intense pleasure of it sent a tingling current straight up his spine.

He saved the pin on her clit for last.

“Now,” he said, and opened the pin. Samantha hips shot off the bed. Brian could see her clit stiffen and swell as the blood rushed through; a second later, it was hard a purple nub, standing firm over her clitoral hood.

Samantha made mewling noises around his prick. Her clit throbbed in agony. The sensation was excruciating, and at the same time, it was exquisite. The throbbing went on and on, making her cunt flow with juices. She needed to rub her clit, soothe away the ache. At the same time, she wanted the throbbing to go on, to stimulate her even more.

She wanted to come.

“Brian. Oh God, Brian.” He had stepped away from her to watch the drama of her reaction. He watched her with a fixed look, mesmerized. Then, to Samantha’s confusion, he reached for his pants. Samantha couldn’t begin to wonder what he was doing now; she couldn’t even put two thoughts together. All her focus was on her need to come. She dipped her hand down between her legs and began to rub her wet, hardened clit.

“No.” Brian brushed her hand away. He held in his hand a wrapped condom. With his teeth, he opened the condom wrapper; then, with practiced ease, he rolled the condom down his cock.

“Please,” Samantha whispered.

Brian moved over Samantha’s sweaty, writhing body, adjusted himself between her thighs, and entered her in one powerful thrust.

Samantha’s whole body curled into that thrust. She buried her head into the crook of his neck and wrapped her limbs around him. Brian raised himself on his elbows and began to jam her cunt with hard, demanding prick. He moved his whole body up and down with each thrust, plowing deep, letting his groin rub against her engorged clit.

“Oh God, yes, Brian, yes,” Samantha entreated, spurring him on. His cock felt thick and ruthless inside her, claiming her with each invasion, hitting her cunt wall like a battering ram. Samantha opened her hips, raising up, and Brian slammed her back down.

It only took a few strokes for her to come, and Samantha did with a high-pitched cry, digging her nails into his butt and trying to force him even deeper inside her. Her pussy walls clenched around his steely prick, contracting all around him, drawing him in.

Brian couldn’t hold out anymore. He came with a hoarse groan, ramming into her with all his might. Samantha yelled, held on, and took it.

He held himself still inside her as his orgasm receded and his breathing slowed. Samantha continued to hold him close, caressing his back and ass. Finally, when he had calmed down and decided she had suffered his weight long enough, he rolled off.

Samantha snuggled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. They lay there together for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow.

~ * * * ~

Samantha dozed. When she woke up, Brian was no longer in the bed. In fact, he was gone from the room. She looked around and realized his clothes were gone, too.

Frantic, she jumped out of bed and rushed to put on some panties and a long shirt–just enough to look decent coming downstairs.

Panic made her dash down the stairs and around the rooms, looking for some sign of him. She stopped in the dining room.

There was no sign of him. He had left.

God, how could she have been so stupid?

“Is everything okay?” His voice came from the kitchen. Samantha swung open the narrow panelled kitchen door and saw him standing by the counter, looking surprised by the force of her entrance. He had put his shirt on, but it was open all the way down, giving her a nice view of his flat stomach and hard muscles. He had left open the top button of his pants, too, and Samantha could see the hem of his boxers. Her mouth went dry; he looked like he had just stepped out of an Armani ad. Then her eyes travelled up to his face.

Brian’s expression of concern was plain. “What’s wrong? Why are you running around all over the house? I could hear your footsteps stomping down the stairs from here.”

“What are you doing in here?”

“I came to get a glass of water. I get thirsty sometimes,” he said with a grin. Then he reached for the glass of water sitting on the table, the one he had obviously just poured for himself. His expression turned contrite. “Is that not okay, that I came into the kitchen and got a glass of water?”

Samantha blushed. “Yeah, that’s okay,” she said. “I just…I just didn’t know where you had gone to.” She tried to mask the relief she felt, seeing him still there. He hadn’t left after all; he wasn’t trying to make a quick exit after fucking her. Now she felt embarrassed by her first assumption.

Brian came to stand before her and put his hand to her cheek. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I woke up, and you weren’t there,” Samantha said, unable to meet his eyes.

“And you thought I had left,” Brian finished. “Well, I didn’t, I’m still here.” He smiled and pulled her face in until she met his eyes. She smiled back, but looked down quickly, suddenly nervous.

“Um, we have other things besides water,” she said, walking to the fridge. “We have juice, and gatorade, and wine–”

“Water’s fine, but thank you.” Brian held up his glass, drank his water down, and placed the glass gently in the sink. “Do you want a drink?”

“No, I’m fine.” She still wouldn’t meet his eyes. Her nervousness was growing by the second. Now that she had him there, and knew he hadn’t made a cowardly retreat, she didn’t know what to do with him.

“Why don’t you show me a little bit around your home?” Brian suggested.

“Yes! I’ll show you around my home.” Relieved, Samantha turned and began to wave around an outstretched hand like a real estate agent pointing things out to a new buyer. “This is the kitchen,” she said, “and over there is our small family room,” she added, pointing to the couch and tv in the adjoining space.

She slipped through the swinging doors, and waited for Brian to follow her. “Over here is our living room and dining room. Down that way is my sister’s room, and the bathroom.” She circled the staircase banister and marched up the stairs, listening to Brian’s heavier footsteps coming up behind her.

“This is my office,” she said, pointing through the door without going in. “It’s supposed to be another bedroom, and it has its own bathroom. And, uh, this is my room, which you know already. My bathroom is there,” she finished, pointing in the general area. She sat on the edge of her bed and watched as Brian looked around, taking a cursory interest in her tall jewelry chest and her perfume collection.

“It’s nice,” he said, backing up to take a seat in the corner chair and looking curious when it rocked back. He took a couple of small tentative pushes with his feet, rocking the chair back and forth, then stopped. “Do you rent this place with your sister?”

“No, I own it.” Her voice held a note of challenge, like she expected him to be surprised by her answer. Her real estate agent and loan officer had certainly acted surprised when they had first began to deal with her. Not many single women bought their own home, it seemed.

“That’s great,” Brian said without a hint of conjecture. Samantha raised her eyebrows at his simple reply, but Brian didn’t notice. He was busy looking around her room, noting all the details he had missed before. By the time his eyes came back to hers again, Samantha was smiling. Brian, seeing her expression, beckoned her forward.

“Come here,” he said.

Samantha walked toward him, slowly, wagging her hips. “Here, where?” She asked, stopping in front of his knees.

“Here.” Brian pulled her in until she was straddled across his lap. The chair was plush and wide, and Samantha easily fit her legs on the outside of his muscular thighs.

Brian circled her waist with his hands and began to lift up her shirt, kissing her belly as he did. Samantha squealed and curled in. When he lifted her shirt over her breasts, he stopped.

“You still have the marks from the clothespins on your skin,” he murmured, kissing one breast, then the other. Samantha gasped and put her hands around his head. Brian lifted his head to look at her face, but rubbed his thumbs lightly over the tops of her nipples as he spoke. “Did you like what I did to you before?”

“Yes,” Samantha said, closing her eyes. It was hard to think when he was caressing her nipples, making them harden and swell.

“I’m glad.” Brian took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked, then flicked it with his tongue. Samantha jerked away from the sudden stab of sensation, but Brian lifted her shirt over her head, twisted it in his hand with her wrists still stuck inside, and held it behind her back. Then he took her other nipple in his mouth and assaulted it just as fiercely with his tongue as he had the other.

“God, you’re beautiful. Just as beautiful as I remember,” he said. Samantha bent her head to meet his eyes. His were cloudy with need, filled with hot desire. Desire for her, she realized. Emotion swelled in her chest, making it hard to talk.

“You think I’m beautiful?” She whispered.

“How could I not?” He pulled the shirt off from her wrists, flung it onto the floor, and ran his hands up her sides and down her back. Samantha shivered and leaned back. Brian took the opportunity to slip his hand into the front of her panties, cupping his palm against her warm moist skin. Samantha squealed.

Brian laughed, then looked at her with a wry grin. “Not just beautiful, but sexy as all hell,” he said. To Samantha’s surprise, he put her on her feet so he could stand up. But her confusion was resolved a second later when Brian yanked down his pants and shorts, popping free his tall erection. Samantha gasped when she saw it. She didn’t think she would ever stop marvelling at the size of him.

He pulled off his shirt as he retrieved his wallet and got out another condom. Then he ripped open the condom wrapper and rolled it down his stiff cock.

“Where were we?” He asked. “Oh yes.” He pulled Samantha on his lap just as he had before, but this time, he lifted her a bit before planting her right onto his engorged prick.

Samantha lifted her hips a bit, getting used to the size of him and the positioning, then slowly sank back down. Brian furrowed his brows as she got comfortable. He circled her waist with his arms, lifted her back up, then let her sink down once more.

Soon, they were rocking and swaying in a joint rhythm, holding onto each other to steady themselves against the building tide of pleasure. Samantha squeezed his shoulders, bobbing up and down his slippery prick, and Brian used his hands to knead her reedy back as he sucked and flicked her nipples with his tongue.

Samantha moaned when she came, bounding on his cock like a jackhammer and squeezing her cunt muscles tight. Brian let her go, feeling her orgasm pulling him in, milking his entire length, and then he grabbed her around the waist and held her against him as he lifted himself off the chair with rapid pumps of his hips. He came with a hoarse cry, holding her body tight against him, and shivered as his body came down from his own powerful orgasm.

Samantha hugged her arms around his neck, letting her own breathing come back down to normal. She could still feel him inside her, shrinking, and didn’t want to get up yet. But then she noticed the clock by her bed.

She pulled off his lap with a start. Brian was startled by the feel of his prick hitting the cold air outside her warm cunt so suddenly.

“It’s late,” Samantha said, worry filling her voice. “My sister should be home soon.”

Brian was still breathing hard, recovering from his orgasm. “And this is bad, why?”

“I just don’t want you meeting her like…like this.” Samantha blushed. “I don’t want her finding you in my bedroom, looking like we obviously….”

“I get it.” He stood up and pulled the condom off his cock. Samantha looked away, embarrassed. She was being so abrupt with him, and he hadn’t even yet taken off the condom from their recent fucking.

Brian disappeared into her bathroom, threw the used condom into her trash can, and returned. He started to put on his clothes, and this time, he buttoned his shirt up all the way and tucked it into his pants. “Do I at least get to meet your sister this time?” He asked as he put on his socks. “Or you want me out of here completely?”

Samantha had the grace to look shamefaced, but held her ground. “I think it would be best if she didn’t find you here,” she said. “If she did, she’d start asking a whole bunch of questions. I hope you understand.”

Brian stared at her for a second with raised eyebrows. Samantha kept her lips pressed tightly together. She felt a little guilty for what she was doing–okay, more than a little guilty–but that wouldn’t stop her from doing what she believed she had to do to protect herself.

Brian grabbed his wallet from the bedside table. “I get it. It’s fine.” He stuffed the wallet into his pant’s pocket, sat on her bed, and put on his shoes. Samantha put on a robe and belted it around her waist.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Then Brian sighed. “I’m still seeing you on Wednesday, right?” He stood up and cupped her cheek with his hand.

“Yeah.” Samantha tilted her head into his palm, caressing it, then kissed it. “Wednesday.”

“Okay then.” He kissed her softly on the forehead. “I’ll show myself out.”

“Brian.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

For a moment, Brian said nothing. Then he gave her a small, but satisfied, grin. “You’re welcome,” he said. “Goodnight, Samantha.”

“Goodnight, Brian.”

She only went down to lock the door after she heard it close behind him.

~ * * * ~

Her sister came home a half hour later, sans Scott. He had dropped her off at the front door, then driven away.

During that half hour, Samantha had showered, dried her hair, and donned a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. She hoped she looked like she had spent a calm, boring evening at home, and not like she had just had kinky gut-wrenching sex for the first time in months.

Her sister seemed distracted, which also worked in her favor. Kimberly hung up her purse on the hook by the door, but left her colorful fitted jacket on. She rubbed beneath her eyes with her thumbs, like she was trying to smudge away some makeup. Samantha noticed her sister’s eyes were bloodshot and swollen, like she had recently been crying.

“Are you okay?” Samantha asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Kimberly answered, a small catch in her voice. “Scott and I got into a fight, but we’re okay now.”

“I hope it wasn’t anything big,” Samantha said, thinking I hope he didn’t act like an asshole.

Kimberly gave her a strange look. Then she pursed her lips. “Nothing major,” she said. “Just some stuff we have to work out. You know, as a couple.”

“Okay.” Samantha wouldn’t ask again. She and her sister had never been that close, and while they were trying to get along better since their mother had died, they still weren’t exactly confidants. They loved each other, and supported one another, but they didn’t try to cross any boundary lines.

Kimberly had no idea her sister was a masochist. She never knew about the abusive relationship Samantha had survived a year before, nor about the failed relationship Samantha had abruptly severed before making her evasive exit out of Phoenix. Those were things Samantha kept close, away from Kimberly’s critical judgements and sharp tongue. She had no reason to invite Kimberly into her personal life, especially when she knew once Kimberly was in, there would be no way to get her out.

But she was surprised by Kimberly’s superficial answer to her question. Unlike Samantha, Kimberly was a veritable font of information about everything going on in her life, no matter how mundane. It wasn’t like her to be so vague.

“Why are you home, anyway?” Kimberly said abruptly, her voice clipped. “Weren’t you supposed to have a date with that mystery guy you’ve been seeing?”

“We were supposed to go to a movie,” Samantha said. “But we were too late to make it. I’ll be seeing him again on Wednesday.”

“That’s nice.” Samantha detected a note of sarcasm in her sister’s voice, but chose not to remark on it. She had no idea why Kimberly was acting so elusive and rude, and at the moment, she didn’t feel like trying to figure it out. Better to let Kimberly calm down and get her emotions under control, she thought.

“I’m gonna head up to bed,” Samantha said. It was time to make a discreet retreat.

“Sure,” Kimberly answered. But before Samantha could make it up the stairs, Kimberly called out, “So when do I get to meet this guy? Don’t I ever get to say hello? I introduced you to Scott as soon as we started dating, you know.”

“It’s still a little too early,” Samantha turned around on the stairs to reply. “I don’t want to introduce you to him if I’m not sure where this is going.”

“I get it,” Kimberly said, in much the same tone as Brian had said it an hour before. “Do I even get to know his name?”

“Brian. His name is Brian.” Samantha let the name tumble from her mouth before she could stop herself.

“Thank you.” This time, there was no mistaking the sarcastic tone in Kimberly’s voice. Yet again, Samantha decided not to take the bait. She merely nodded her head and turned back to finish walking up the stairs.