Her Secret Pleasure Read online

  Her Secret Pleasure

  Secrets #1

  Copyright © 2012 Jordan Bell

  All Rights Reserved

  Sweet Stories Press

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Adults Only

  This erotic romance story contains scenes of a very graphic and adult nature which some may find offensive. This story is for sale to adults only. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons or events are purely coincidental. Please engage in safe, consensual sexual practices only. Remember, this is a work of imagination and fantasy. All sexual activities described herein are between characters 18 years old or older and are always consensual.

  Other Stories by Jordan Bell

  Distracting Jonah Silver

  Taming London Mackenzie

  Breakfast With Mia

  The Night of the Storm Collection

  Five Erotic Tales of Ménage, BDSM, and Domination

  The Games We Play

  Carnal Words

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  About the Author

  1

  ____________

  One caress and I gave in.

  The safe scent of lilies floated across heady, dark incense and their potency left me feeling half-drugged and unbridled. He’d offered me a place to be a coveted somebody and like an attention starved pet, I’d eagerly offered up my ordinary, nobody life for his.

  He demanded only that I consent to his rapacious hunger and deny him nothing.

  One caress. I regretted nothing.

  That I craved this utter loss of control at his greedy, powerful hands remained a secret I could never voice. What salacious torment would whet his appetite tonight? Here I knelt, bent across a rabbit fur ottoman, wonderfully soft against my cheek, the pressure of a last chaste kiss still lingering upon my lips. Despite my sedate obedience, a cinder of excitement brightened in my belly.

  I could have lost myself in the sweet pleasure of this waiting but for the rope that twisted tighter and tighter around and between my wrists, my fingers spread open in a silent scream.

  “Say when,” Marcus Giovanni whispered between my naked shoulder blades, his wine-sweet lips cool against my skin. His words held an edge of cruelty and when my racing heart allowed the softest of whines to press against the hundred dollar tie I’d been gagged with, he squeezed the ropes a centimeter tighter.

  Marcus meticulously tied the ropes off around the legs of the ottoman where my knees were pressed, ladylike, but bare. His large hand moved across the back of my naked ankle, up my calf to palm the curve of my thigh. Exquisite heat flushed the skin where he grazed and despite the blindfold, I squeezed my eyes shut.

  He moaned like a man with barely restrained need and I knew that sound, intimately well, and I knew that what it preceded was delicious and dangerous. His moan, deep in the barrel of his thick chest, rumbled like an animal and once more his mouth pressed to my spine.

  The small of my back felt cool and a little sweaty and when he kissed me there, I curled my toes and moaned.

  This was the part I ached for, the playing, the toying, the buildup to the moment when he lost his precious control to take every last bit of me for himself. I didn’t care about the act nearly as much as the desire and restraint. I needed this, being laid bare. I yearned for the punishment of his pleasure.

  To be someone else. Someone craved.

  “So beautiful,” he sighed. It had taken him several long minutes to lash me into this knot, and though I’d suffered this particular position only a couple of times before, my body already ached before he had even begun. A soft searing burn made its way along the back of my shoulders down to my tail bone.

  Marcus dragged his fingers up the inside of my thigh to the humid triangle I squeezed my thighs tightly to protect. He loved my shy nature. Relished my pretend modesty. That was part of the game. He enjoyed stripping that modesty away each night, almost as much as I did.

  Marcus pressed a small, silver bell between my fingers bound behind my back. The bell was my alarm, a way to tell him to stop if his administrations became too much. Blindfolded and gagged and bound completely like this, without it he had no way to know if he’d pushed my limits beyond their endurance. This bell represented a world of trust between us and it had taken a long time for us to get to this place. He understood and respected how much I could take, how far he could push that dangerous edge, and in the last five months I’d never had to ring it.

  He knew how much pain would still bring me pleasure. It was like a chemical bond, a perfect infusion. This was how we played.

  “My beautiful girl, you know I suffer when you’re tied down like this. It hurts me so much more than it hurts you.”

  His tongue stroked the heart-shaped birthmark between my shoulder blades. I sighed against my gag, too quiet for him to hear over the piano concerto playing softly in the background. His kiss pierced through my back to my unprotected heart…

  “Is this too tight?” Sean asked, though in his nervous excitement he’d made the knot a little too tight, but I was also too nervous and excited to say so. I laced my fingers together, pressed my palms, and shook my head eagerly. My heart beat so furiously against the inside of my chest I was sure it would break through.

  “You’ll tell me if it hurts too much, Kara. Promise?” Sean’s lean body shifted into my view, but being bent forward on the bed, my cheek against a pillow, I could only just see him in the dark room.

  A thin band of pre-dawn light escaped through the closed curtains. Was it morning already? How had we lost a whole night?

  “I promise,” I whispered, forgetting about morning or class or a sleepless night as Sean’s beautiful hands stroked down my spine, crossed my knotted wrists, and for a long moment held my lashed hands in his.

  I cried out against my gag as Marcus spread my ample thighs apart with his fist and pushed his thumb against the hot, tight opening hidden between my legs.

  “I said open your legs. Don’t deny me, Kara. You wouldn’t want to break my heart twice in one night, would you?” His words were honey-sweet, all sighs and suffering, but his fingers were rock hard, prodding, pushing, forcing my lips apart.

  The sweet smoke made my head swim and lingering between me and Marcus’s words was Sean. I wasn’t sure how he’d snuck into this room with us, on smoke maybe, or embedded within the music. Faint traces of him lingered everywhere and it always happens like this, Sean’s ghost sneaking in where he no longer belonged.

  Marcus’s condo. Our private room. Six years after Sean vanished from my life. I wanted to be here. I didn’t want to be dragged into a haunted past. Not now.

  I relaxed the tight hold protecting my sex and he growled in triumph when two twined fingers speared into me.

  My body strained against its bindings beneath the force of his intrusion. Colors sparked behind my eyelids and I could feel the spread of heat where his fingers pressed, searching my pussy for the little secret spot of pleasure that he knew would send me panting and screaming against my gag.

  His fingers found the tiny indentation inside me and crooked a come hither motion, awkward for him but brilliant for me. I writhed against my ropes, only my ass gaining any real movement as I fought against his teasing touch. He knew even the gentlest pressure against my g-spot made me crazy, and oh how I hated and worshipped him as he rotated his fingertip in back and forth motions until my muffled sobs were louder than the music.

  Sweat beaded across my back, slipped over the curve of my hip, and trailed down my thighs. Earlier, Marcus had exposed the back of my neck by knotting my blonde hair up and out of the way, and now he sucked at the soft skin there. His tongue teased the tiny bruise he left and rumbled his approval when I moaned.

  Marcus slid his fingers out of my pussy to search out the sopping wet hood where my clitoris hid. He blew long, cool air across the wet trail he’d left along my neck, causing hair along my arms to prickle. I shivered, hot and cold and controlled.

  His masterful finger pushed the hood back and pressed down on my swollen bump until I cried his name, mangled and gasping behind the gag. While the heat between my legs beat for him, I felt my heart dreaming of a different time, a very different touch.

  Marcus rolled my clit, flicked it back and forth, played with it like a toy. My body trembled, muscles tightening and releasing, but also quieted by this exquisite pleasure. Forgetting myself, forgetting that this was punishment, I squeezed my thighs and gyrated into his hand.

  I became a little animal, gasping, nostrils flaring, as he pe
tted me into the merciful arms of ecstasy. He chuckled and I could feel him watching me enjoy myself against his hand. The warm pressure between my legs grew until it radiated up through my body.

  I knew I was going to come, with or without permission.

  Shame and guilt smoldered at the back of my thoughts, hushed by my racing heart and the insatiable hunger that burned in my belly. I knew better, but there was nothing to help it once he slid his fingers back into my pussy and intensified his rolling thumb along my clit. All of my discipline broke then, too much of Marcus and Sean in the same room, touching my mind and heart and body. Marcus’s touch stroked magic through my core and with the sedative quality of the smoke, I slipped unknowingly back into my own imagination, far from Marcus and his expensive ottoman and his mastery of knot work that held me as his own.

  “I love seeing your body bound like this, Kara.” Sean sighed as he touched me, troubled but smoldering. I stayed quiet and still while he circled the bed. He had me kneeling; arms bound behind my back, naked, with my forehead barely touching the cool, crisp sheets. Blue. The sheets were navy blue.

  My knees were parted and the position made me feel deeply vulnerable, but giving. I didn’t squirm. I breathed slowly and evenly, the way he’d taught me.

  Sean had ordered me to stay still while he explored me. He liked to watch me obey. That was what he loved so much. Being obeyed.

  And dear God I lived to obey him.

  But he was not yet prepared for the desperation such power brought. I knew he held back when he touched me like this, though I suspected he wanted more, to do…more.

  “I need you,” he murmured as he climbed onto the bed to kneel behind me. He tangled his fingers in my mess of hair, twisted it into something like a braid, and tucked it carefully over one shoulder. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him. I could feel his restraint as he lowered his hand between my legs, open to him. His breath caught in his throat when he pushed his fingers into me and found my sex sopping wet and delightfully responsive. I shivered, rounded my spine and again he sighed.

  “I don’t deserve you.” He lowered his mouth to the tender crease between the small of my back and ass and my body went weak for him. “What you give - Kara, I don’t deserve you.”

  Sean stroked his fingers in and out of my body, spread the sweet wetness across my lips and over my clit. His fingertip fluttered there, not too hard. Delicious. Sean’s boyish charms conflicted with the domination in his commands, in his unwillingness to be disobeyed. That was why we were here, because I’d disobeyed. He’d had his face buried between my legs, warned me not to come until he’d given me permission, and like an inexperienced girl I’d come screaming, uncontrolled, and shameless.

  And while my body blissed out, a confused, embarrassed voice in the back of my mind asked the very reasonable question - why? Why did I crave punishment from this boy for disobeying a command I wasn’t sure was even physically possible?

  And yet…while my aching, dripping sex offered no acceptable answer, it could do nothing but kneel and surrender.

  This was not an area we had to explore often, though I believed it was his most intoxicating, secret pleasure. Sean would never say he loved to hurt me, but I felt it in the way he pleasured me afterwards that it had been a delirious hunger he couldn’t explain any more than I could.

  “It’s ok if you have to scream,” he whispered and kissed the small, heart-shaped birthmark between my shoulder blades and I felt it in my heart like a shock of electricity.

  With one hand buried into the soft folds between my legs, he brought the other palm down across my ass cheek.

  Marcus struck his belt down across my ass with such speed and pressure light exploded across my eyelids, dragging me sharply back from my memories. Again and again, he spanked me in time with the music, each hard crash of piano keys from some Italian battle opera pounding with my heartbeats.

  The first three or four I endured, but after that they hit across the same tender spots until I was crying out against my gag. His fingers were no longer between my legs and I dripped pleasure down the inside of my thigh, evidence of my insatiable, undisciplined want.

  The whipcrack of leather against skin sounded so much scarier than it felt. He was usually careful not to hit so hard he marked me, but tonight he teetered on that edge, some strikes biting hard enough to force a real scream out of me.

  Marcus strung me out, took his time in between each slap, prolonged the abuse across each cheek. Some hurt. Some didn’t. They all felt essential. The bottom curves were his favorite places to spank because he’d be able to see the faint red marks peeking out beneath my panties later before they faded. I was no small girl, so there was plenty of skin for him to color

  I squeezed my fingers around the bell until the hard edge bit into my palm, but I wasn’t ready to ring it. I enjoyed reminding myself it was there. He loved the control, but I craved the submission. My endurance and unwillingness to be broken fed my beating heart, gave me something to feel power over. I loved that I took most strokes with the barest of screams.

  I’d told myself for years it didn’t matter that I wasn’t willowy thin and soft and fragile and feminine because I had an appetite for physical strength and a will to endure all it offered. Because most people longed for the trust, the chemical bond this single act of pleasure and pain restored for us.

  And because this felt so fucking good and for whatever reason, this man found his ultimate pleasure with me. That had to mean something.

  And then he tipped over the edge and brought the folded leather down across my right thigh in one powerful strike and I came for a second time screaming against my gag like a demon unleashed.

  “Oh you little slut,” Marcus laughed affectionately when I quivered from waves of sensation and pleasure. He tugged at the knotted tie in my mouth and then gently drew the gag from between my teeth. The relief of its pressure was pure bliss and I gasped for a deep, cold breath. For the first time I tasted berries in the incense that circled us.

  Marcus pressed his mouth against my ear, breathed hard. His coarse, animal need completely unmade me. “I think you enjoyed that too much, Kara. This is supposed to be punishment, isn’t it?”

  “Marcus, forgive me…”

  “Be quiet now, darling.”

  He dug the bell from my hands and tossed it across the room, its ring disappearing against the soft carpet. He climbed behind me, forced a knee between my legs to urge them wider apart. I didn’t have the room in the intricate knots he’d bound me in to open them much more and the strain of the rope against my skin left intense lines of sensual pain across my back and thighs.

  I’d taken Marcus’s punishment from him and he would reclaim me with power.

  He took me then, from behind, hard and rough. He became a battering ram, using my hips to hold on and despite being so slick and wet, I tensed when he entered me. His thick cock spread me open, plunged deep. He overpowered me, grunting wildly.

  I clenched myself around him and squeezed my eyes tight and screamed each time he pounded into me. His fingers raked down my waist from where the swell of my breasts were crushed against the ottoman, to my hips. His nails marked my skin, nothing that wouldn’t disappear in a few hours, but I knew his intention. He wanted me to remember him when I went home. He wanted me to remember my place in his world.

  Sometimes he made love to me, with or without the ropes and riding crops. Sometimes he was soft, but not often, because we both liked it hard and quick and desperate. Our day time lives often left us empty and exhausted and we needed this other. It was not often sweet, but it was always pleasure.

  Tonight it was the basest, most intoxicating kind. His girth slid in and out of me and I felt incredible and filled and wanted. I wanted this, I wanted all of this. I wanted to scream his name so everyone in the world knew how I was going to come for the third time in so many minutes at the hands of the man I’d surrendered to.

  Marcus leaned himself across my back, pressed his open mouth against my neck and fucked me with blind, unrelenting passion.

  Sean fucked slowly. He made each stroke mean something, deep and penetrating, like he wanted to crawl inside of me with his whole soul. The way he penetrated and pulled out created a fathomless sensation, like breathing. I moaned his beautiful name and I didn’t have to see him to feel him smile.