Normally, I was a good girl. I worried and worked. But not right now.
Right now, in Declan’s huge bed in his lavish penthouse, I brought a finger down and slipped it under the elastic waistband of the boxers I was wearing. True, I didn’t have any more experience now than I had back in the day. But Declan sure made me want to get it. I wanted the experience, with him. Here in Declan’s bed he worked his dark magic on me like always, just his scent and the memories of what he’d done to me depriving me of all reason.
Exhaling with a sigh, I found my sex and began to stroke myself. I moved into my own rhythm, taking my other hand up to my breasts. Pushing the t-shirt up to give myself access, I ran my hand along my curves, brought my fingers up to play with my nipples. I remembered how he’d caught me doing this, back in the day. I’d let myself into his cabin, my need for him overwhelming any sense of decency. I’d been writhing on his bed, hands like they were now, up at my breast and down between my legs. His scent held the same power over me, then as now. In his bed, between his sheets, surrounded by his musky, masculine smell, I’d come so hard I’d shuddered and quaked and screamed out his name.
I brought my finger to my clit, coaxing tremors from deep within. My breathing started coming faster. We’d both caught each other that summer, seen things we shouldn’t have. I remembered how I’d seen him, back in that same cabin, getting his cock sucked by that slut in town. I’d been so shocked. But I’d felt lust, too, watching the carnal, primal servicing of Declan’s needs. And jealousy. I wanted to be the one to do it.
I wanted to be kneeling between his legs, his thick thighs open for me to worship his cock. I wanted to take him in, one hand around his base, feeding him into my hot, hungry mouth. I wanted to lick and suck, looking up at him from time to time to show him my devotion and see how turned on he was. I wanted to blow his mind. I wanted to make him breathe fast and hard, to feel his pleasure build under my licking and sucking. See him throw his head back and call out my name as he shot all his hot come down my throat.
Shuddering, about to climax myself, I took my drenched fingers away from my pussy. “You may not come,” he’d told me last night.
I pushed the t-shirt down over my breasts. Panting, I obeyed his orders. And in this Alice-in-Wonderland world, my obedience turned me on even more. The sweet torture of my voluntary submission. I had no idea why it made me pant even more with lust, but it did.
Where was he? He might be out already at work, or at the gym. But he might be in the penthouse, just a room away. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. Maybe I could find him and we could start the morning off right.
Opening the bedroom door, I saw him at once, asleep on the couch. Against the huge expanse of shiny, black leather, he lay there fast asleep. His head rested on one of the throw pillows. I had to smile. So they’d served a purpose after all, more than simply annoying him. That had been fun, getting to him like that when I’d decorated his penthouse. I’d see if I could get to him another way now.
I moved toward him, admiring him like a sculpture on display in a museum. A blanket lay pooled on the floor. He wore nothing but form-fitting briefs. The hard planes and ridges of his muscles looked carved out of granite. Every inch of him rippled, defined. And those tattoos. Of course he still had them, but to see them again. I felt like those designs had been tattooed into the very fiber of my being. I could draw them in my sleep.
What did he do to keep himself in such killer shape? He worked as a businessman now, no manual labor that I knew of, yet he looked even bigger than I’d ever seen him. He looked huge, all raw power, a sleeping lion. I drank him in, scanning the ink, following the patterns they formed around his bulging biceps, along his massive shoulders, down teasing by his chest. I needed to run my fingers and tongue along every line, angle, edge, ridge, taste all of him. One leg down off the couch, his thick thighs splayed open in invitation.
Kneeling before him, I brought a hand to his knee. The typical Kara Brooks would have been shocked and dismayed, too shy and too damn polite to ever attempt such a thing. That Kara Brooks had left the building.
I stroked my palm along his quad muscle. Such definition, such strength and dominance even as he slept. My other hand up as well, I caressed him, working my way up his legs. Under the stretchy, form-fitting cotton of his briefs I could see the outline of his cock. Eyes fixated on it, I stroked and pet, grazing and circling my palms up his inner thighs.
My eyes widened as I could see his steel length growing, pressing against the fabric as it swelled in response to my touch. My lips parted and I brought my hands up, cupping his large balls and drawing my thumb down along the length of his hard shaft. A sleepy, aroused moan came rumbling from deep in Declan’s chest. I could almost feel it, like the growl of a bear in a cave.
Old Kara would have shrank away, embarrassed and shy. But New Kara was in the house now, bold and wanton. I was tired of holding back. I’d agreed to a week of sexual servitude. It was time to deliver on my promise. I stroked my hand down the length of the thick, hard bulge in his briefs. Wondering at his enormous size, my hand traveled up to the crown, then down again to the base.
“Kara,” he murmured, shifting his weight and starting to wake up.
“Good morning, Declan,” I murmured wickedly, sliding the waistband of his briefs down over the head of his cock. It sprang to life out in the open, urgent and straining up, a pearl of pre-come forming on the tip.
“Mmm,” I murmured, licking my lips and bringing my mouth down to taste. I swirled my tongue along his tip, hot and wet, licking him. He tasted delicious. I’d signed up to be his slut for the week. Right now, that sounded like a dream come true. I’d give him everything he wanted, make all his fantasies come true.
“Kara, what are you doing?” He voice still sounded groggy and thick. I slid the waistband lower on his hips, freeing more of his cock. I brought my mouth down again, taking more of him in with a wet swirl of my tongue.
“Mmm,” I moaned, positioning myself closer to him, kneeling right inside his leg on the floor, between his thighs. Taking my mouth off for a moment, I looked up into his eyes. “Declan, I want you in my mouth. Will you teach me how to suck your cock?”
“Fuck,” he exhaled, his hand up fisting his hair. He shifted along the couch, positioning his hips directly under my face. I brought my hands to his briefs and smiled. Still looking somewhat dazed, but also glazed with lust, he lifted his hips. I slid his briefs down off him completely.
His huge cock thrust out now, exposed completely for my enjoyment. Seeing it in its glory I once again marveled over how it fully fit inside of me. It looked so huge and powerful, veins pumping through it, more pre-come at the crown. I stroked admiring fingers up and down its length, brought my tongue down again to swirl up his come and taste. He swore again, his hands grasping the couch on either side.
I opened up and took him into my mouth, surrounding him with my wet heat. He hissed and I sucked, drawing him in. I felt a heady rush, the thrill of desire, as I brought one hand to his balls and caressed them, keeping the other at the root of his cock. I didn’t know how I was going to take him all the way into my mouth. But I wanted to, dearly. I wanted him deep down my throat and I couldn’t wait for him to come, to swallow all of his load. My pussy felt so wet I bet I was dripping, a slow bead making its way down my inner thighs.
I looked up at him and met his eyes. He was watching me like a hungry animal, intent, burning up. He looked like he’d never seen anything he wanted more than me on his cock. I moaned and took it in deeper, sucking and swirling my tongue, wanting more of him.
“Fuck!” he called out and brought his hands to my hair, twining them in my locks. “Suck me, Kara.”
I did as I was told, his command sending a deep throb straight to my sex. I needed to serve this man. I’d do everything he told me and more.
Then, abruptly, he pulled me off of him. Dazed, I kneeled between his legs, looking up. What was he doing?
a hand to his huge prick. It looked even bigger than it had before, swollen and slick from my mouth. I watched, riveted, while he stroked it right in front of my face, but kept his other hand fisted in my hair. Keeping me there, close, watching but not touching.
“You want to suck this?” he asked, his voice low and thick.
“Yes!” I cried out, my hands up on his thighs, fingers clutching him with need.
“Did you touch yourself last night, Kara?”
“Yes,” I readily admitted.
“Did you come?”
“No.” I looked into his eyes, heat flooding my gaze. “You didn’t tell me I could.”
He growled in satisfaction, his hand still wrapped around his cock. “Strip for me.”
My legs weak with desire, I stood up, wobbly. Looking at him the whole time, I peeled off his t-shirt, letting him see my breasts. He took me in, heavy-lidded in appreciation as he stroked himself. I brought my fingers inside the waistband of his boxers, slid them down and stepped out of them. Now he could see how wet I was, glistening and dripping with need for him.
“Show me,” he commanded, eyes locked on my pussy. “Show me how you touched yourself.”
Following his directions without hesitation, I brought my fingers down to my throbbing clit. My eyes closed in pleasure as I found myself, stroking and circling my swollen flesh. I was so close, so ready on the brink.
“And your tits,” Declan barked. I moaned at his command and brought my free hand up to my breasts, rubbing, kneading, caressing.
“That’s right, just like that,” Declan praised me and I moaned again, his words stroking me as much as my fingers. “You see this?” His words opened my eyes again and brought my attention to his cock in his hand. “Do you want to learn how to suck this? Exactly how I want you to do it?”
“Yes,” I panted, my hand frantically working my slit.