Tasha nodded, confused by this new, darker, maybe even dangerous turn of events.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.” She was unable to break away from his gaze.
“Yes what?” He tugged her delicate hair again.
“Yes, James.”
“Good girl. Now I have a problem because I had decided that I was going to make love to you tonight, over and over, gentle and sensual, but that smart mouth makes me want to torment you all night. What do you think I should do with you?” A small smile lit up his face.
She knew he wanted her to answer and if he had to prompt her to do it would be a sore behind and a night of torment, of that she was sure.
“I know what I want you to do,” she said meekly.
“What, honey?” He almost gently encouraged.
“I want you to make love to me. I want you. I need you, James, really I do,” she pleaded, feeling incredibly turned on again by this mature, fit, dominant man.
Maybe she could forget a career and shop all day and screw all night as lucky number seven. Nobody had made her feel like he did; vulnerable and yet empowered.
He frowned. “But if we make love you won’t ever learn to control that mouth. I think some more restraint is required.”
The temptation was to plead and beg, yet Tasha knew that would be futile and she really, really wanted to explore whatever this was that she was doing with James, all of it, but was unsure just how long she could carry on without some kind of gratification.
Seeming to sense her need for reassurance, Jim brushed the hair off her face and gently nuzzled her neck then her ear where he spoke to her in a series of soft whispered words. “I promise you that when you come, baby, it will blow your mind. Trust me?” He seemed to ask and implore and she did, totally, which scared and surprised her in equal parts.
Chapter 5
Tasha was woken several times in the night by James’ hands, tongue, everything really, but he had still insisted on leaving her frustrated and hungrier than ever for him and he knew it. As her eyes flicked open, she decided she needed James or Jim, whoever he was and rolled over towards him. In there lay her first problem. She couldn’t roll over. It took a few seconds to realise she was immobile, not that she understood why. Lifting her head, Tasha looked around; no James, but more than that he had tied her to the bed. Both legs were fixed in place, but only one arm.
She called to him several times using a variety of James and Jims, but received no reply or acknowledgement.
With a loud sigh she slumped back into the bed and began to question just what was going on. Where was he? What was he doing? She giggled out loud now and tried to order her thoughts. She was seriously frustrated, desperate, and now she was tied up and turned on further. Ah, maybe that was it. That’s why he’d left one hand free, to allow her toalleviate her frustration, except he wouldn’t want her to, would he? She had no idea what he wanted. He hadn’t told her yet and she couldn’t bear the thought of him dragging this out much longer. Briefly, she questioned whether she should be more concerned to be in this position, essentially tied up and held captive by a virtual stranger.
When he’d talked about making love to her the previous night she’d been truly sorry she’d prevented it. He’d sat her astride him and she had thought he was going to let her take charge and she had really wanted that, but again her own actions had prevented it.
He’d stood up with her still wrapped around him then thrown her onto the bed where he’d stretched over to the bed side cabinet and tore open a condom. She’d actually felt herself moisten as he’d stretched it over himself and knelt on the edge of the bed.
“Now, open your legs.”
“James—”
“You’re really going to make this suffering last, aren’t you, honey?” he’d asked rhetorically, grabbed her hips and somehow flipped her over so she’d ended up face down on the bed. “Kneel up and open your legs.” He’d spoken with a slow determination.
She’d done it immediately.
“Good girl. This is just for me, not you, understand?” he’d asked, and this time she’d understood perfectly, although her response seemed to contradict that.
“No” she’d cried, her desperation echoed around the room.
“Tasha.” The singular use of her name was a warning.
“Please,” she’d whispered only to find his next response was another single spank that rang out around the room as did her moan.
“You really are going to do this the hard way, aren’t you? For me, not you. My dick my rules,” he’d said through what sounded like gritted teeth. She heard her own sob catch in her throat. James leaned forward, lying across her back, whispering words of encouragement and praise. “You change your mind about any of this, you say so and I’ll stop whatever I’m doing, okay?”
Tasha had nodded in order to convey her understanding and agreement, but clearly he’d wanted words from her, his pause confirmed that. She gave him her consent in the form of a single, “Yes.”
