Part two: Punishment and pleasure
His fingers dragged over the saturated satin of her thong like live electric wires shooting excitement into her body. He kept the soft material between their skin, as he massaged her lips and clit with his finger; if he touched her she’d melt.
“Better than I imagined,” he groaned.
“You’ve imagined this? I thought I was the only one.”
“You use your body as a more effective weapon than a militant on a battlefield. You tempt the world with your skin, lure us with promises you never fulfill. It would be impossible not to fantasize about you as a human male within viewing distance.” Tucker’s voice thickened, his words slowing as if he had to work to speak.
He erased her next thought as his finger slipped under the crotch of her underwear, his calloused skin rasping over her slick clit. The voltage of his touch increased exponentially at the bare contact, making her buck against him.
“When have you imagined me?” he asked, his fingers slowing to give her space to breathe.
“Every night for the last month. Even before, when I dated Trystan, sometimes when he fucked me I pretended it was you. I was bored with him.”
“Am I something to assuage your boredom? Like a new toy? The former army commander turned mercenary for hire now that he’s too broken for battle. Once hunted the baddest terrorists, now demoted to standing outside an heiress’s bedroom while she gets laid or changes her costume.” He used two fingers on her clit, scouring her in angry circles, as his voice dripped with bitterness.
“Do you feel sorry for yourself?” She challenged his whining. “You ride around in limos and eat the best food money can buy, while you earn more in a month than you probably made in a year. Poor you.”
His hand ripped from the caress, striking her ass three times. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me, Princess.” She waited for him to shove her off his lap and storm out.
“Because you share nothing about yourself. I know the names of Jamie’s two children, when his wife’s birthday is and that he prefers a good rom-com on Saturday nights with his wife. With you, I get nothing. So are you going to make me come?”
He picked her up from his lap and dropped her onto the bed. Vanessa turned to her back tossing her hair to clear her line of sight. Tucker stood at the end of the bed, the storm back in his eyes; as he unbuckled his belt, her first hope was that he’d spank her with it. She stared, speechless as he undressed, and while he revealed his skin, he also revealed himself. First the suit jacket dropped to the floor.
“I didn’t think you gave a damn about me. I figured you were too self-absorbed to notice me other than to get my army stories so you could impress your friends with my badass past.”
“As if I’d reveal your secrets to my friends.”
His long fingers mesmerized her as he removed his tie, then unbuttoned his shirt. “I was in the army for eight years, until we were pinned down in an attack where I nearly lost my life. I lost friends and I couldn’t do it anymore so I quit. Had some buddies who were doing this security gig and got me a job. It wasn’t what I imagined.”
He dropped his shirt and Vanessa nearly keeled over. His chest was more muscular than she’d fantasized. Her gaze moved over a tattoo across his left pectoral, a gun, dog tags, and a date; lower, numerous scars blemished his perfection and she wanted to know the stories. She wanted to run her hands over his tanned skin, followed by her tongue. “Like what you see, Princess? None of the gym rats you usually follow around have real muscle.”
“Not like you.” Vanessa licked her lips as she crawled across the bed, kneeling at the end. “Can I touch you?”
He stepped closer. “Yes.”
“Tell me about outside the army. Family?” She started at his shoulders and rubbed down his arms that could lift buildings, or protect her from her own stupidity. Then down his chest, over the nipples and the ripples of his abs, his chest covered by a fine layer of dark hair except surrounding the rough edges of his scars. Her fingers crossed the scars marring his chest and abs; none of them detracted from his appeal, it increased the danger lurking in him, making her want to know more, to feel more.
His voice rumbled through her fingers as she ran them under the silver chain lying on his chest. “I grew up in a small town that I wanted to escape as soon as possible. We were poor, so I joined the army, leaving my parents able to help my sister with college. She’s three years younger, and she became a nurse, married with a three-year-old. Any day she’ll tell me they are having number two. My parents are still married, my mom is a waitress in the one diner in town and my dad drives a truck. Anything else you want to know?”
She wanted to know everything else, but she pressed a hand to his erection, appreciating the size hidden under his cotton pants. “Will you remove your pants? And can you help me take off my dress?”
He took off his pants first, then her dress. Once he stripped away the material between them, talking ceased. He kissed her first, his tongue blasting through her mouth. His strong fingers branded her body with potent caresses, bordering pleasure and pain. His mouth followed, lava pouring over her as he marked her.
Her thong burned away under his hands, then he laid her back with open legs, exposing her to his gaze. Tucker looked at her for a long while, from her dripping pussy to her chest puffing faster than after her toughest workouts, to her breasts hiding her pounding heart. Over the exposed skin his stubble scraped as he tasted her.
“People tell you all the time, but you are fucking beautiful.” His eyes were clear as he met hers, he meant those words.
Vanessa gasped as she grabbed the blanket under her to resist reaching for him. “Everyone else saying it is meaningless, lip service to my money, but hearing it from you, I feel it.” She patted over her heart.
He gave her a quirky smile, before he ducked his head and split her open with his tongue, his moan rumbling through her, a quake starting where their bodies connected until shock waves rocked her body right to her head. Her fingers and her toes curled as she screamed his name.
When she came down, he held a silver packet, his body ready to pounce, or to grab his clothes and leave if she asked. “Do you want more, Princess?” This time the nickname sounded more like a term of endearment rather than derision.
“I want every inch of you.” She looked at his erection, in case he missed her meaning, or wanted direct confirmation. “More than once.”
“I can test your stamina.” He ripped the packet and covered himself with a thin membrane, before settling between her thighs and setting her aflame. Their bodies came together, as if they were a custom fit, moving in sync, to the beat of their hearts. His mouth groaned her name against her lips, before crashing into her, catching her moans inside her mouth before they reached his ears.
She wrapped her legs around him, lifting herself higher, giving him room to push deeper until they were one. She pressed her nails into his back. As she reached the edge his next thrust rattled her to her core and sent her crashing in a spiralling climax. Tucker caught her before she hit the ground and together they soared, as he moved faster, sputtering inside her.
He cradled her as they collapsed together, still joined; his breath was her breath, their heartbeats matched, as they came down. He kissed her, biting her bottom lip, looking unsure.
She smiled at him. “Tucker, I promise to listen if you promise to punish me again.”
“If you listen, why do I need to punish you?” he asked.
“You’re a smart man, you’ll figure it out.”
Read part one here:
