• Jill Marie Denton

Strangelove - Part 14

Part 14

Garrett watched with fascination as Jessica’s mouth dropped open, her shoulders tensed, and her hands clenched into fists on her lap. No one had ever asked her to strip naked before, not in that way, and it showed.


He leaned in, his voice breathy and insistent. “You wanted release. You want to let go. It’s time to let go of the prim façade. Show me how beautiful you are inside and out.”


Her pulse skipped up, knowing he was right. She had asked for his services, to be pushed. And he was pushing in the exact way he needed to. Acquiescing was the only way to move forward.


His words, low and dangerous, interrupted her thoughts. “Jessica. I know you. You’re only dignified because you think you should be, that the world demands it of you. Inside, you’re a vixen begging to be uncaged. Now take off your clothes. Don’t make me ask again.”


The impending fire was back in his gaze. She was overwhelmed, bewitched, even without his fist tangled in her hair and the incessant tugging she’d been subject to before. The blaze in his eyes, the demand and the passion in them, rattled her sensibilities and dampened the crevice between her legs.


She stretched out and tugged down the zippers lining each calf as he sat back, giving her space. After tugging off her boots and slipping the thin knee socks off, she moved quivering fingers to her collar, loosening the top button and working her way down slowly. With the last button at her navel undone, she exhaled a slow breath and slipped the silk from her shoulders.


Garrett eyed the black satin bra she’d chosen, hiding his grin. Though it covered more than he normally preferred, the lacey edge still revealed a modest swell of breast below delicate collarbones. He wanted to rub coarse leather over the tender flesh, to watch blood bloom under her porcelain skin.


She rose slowly, pulling his gaze upward. Her palms swept behind and pulled down the zipper at her lower back. He was transfixed as she slid the skirt down over hip and thigh to the reveal matching panties below. It fell to the rug below and she nudged it aside with a bare foot.


Something inside her broke in that moment, standing in lingerie in front of him. “I… I’m not sure I can…”


“Jessica,” he breathed, seeing the shame creep back inside her and rising to stand inside arm’s reach. “You can. I promise you, you can. But you have to want to. This is about permission, remember?”


She nodded, her head tipped timidly. “Yes, but I don’t know. This feels… wrong. Is it wrong?”


“It feels wrong because you’ve been told it’s wrong. And you believed whoever told you that. There’s nothing inherently wrong with nudity.”


She wanted so desperately to believe him. Her bottom lip ached between her clenched teeth.


He sighed, watching her spiral downward. He chose his words carefully as he lifted her chin with his finger. “You were born into this amazing thing called a body. It’s a fantastic, awe-inspiring machine that feels, thinks and makes your dreams come true. It’s yours to share, not to be ashamed of. And if you’re not proud enough to share it, and if you don’t want to see what other dreams it can make happen when it’s unencumbered, you would be part of a huge group of people who feel the exact same.” He pulled his finger away, her jade eyes now fixed on his. “And I’d completely understand.”


She clenched her eyes shut, comforted by the fireplace’s warm breeze against her legs and his calm encouragement. Her breaths were ragged, her palms damp as she mulled over his words.

“Only a few people have ever seen me naked. Very few.”


He eased a thumb over her cheek. “I’m sure. I’d guess two or three since you were a baby. Doctors, carefully selected partners and that’s it. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But I have to be added to that list. I can’t follow through with my end of the bargain otherwise.”


“I know. Believe me, I know. This is just another awkward step in the right direction. It’s just tough to be logical when I’m about to take everything off in front of a stranger.”


Garrett winced. That was a gut punch. Maybe he hadn’t spent enough time in step one. Maybe she was another client who talked a big game and didn’t swing at a perfectly aimed fast ball. She’d progressed so beautifully through steps one and two, overcoming her fears with incremental improvement. But maybe he’d pushed too hard too fast.


No, his mind argued. No, she’s just like you were. She’s ashamed, she’s bashful and she’s already come so far.


He steeled his resolve, took a muted breath. “You can undress me if you want.”


Her brows lifted to her hairline. “You… you’d…”


More truths. She needed more truths. “If it helps you, yes. You can undress me, but only if you want to. I don’t want you to think of me as a stranger. It hurts me that you do. So, if I can help you be more comfortable with this, I will. This is a two-way street, right?”


“I… I guess. But do you… do you normally…?”


“Absolutely not,” he knee-jerk retorted, looking away. “No, this is a first for me, too. And quite frankly, I’m not one-hundred-percent comfortable with my offer but like I said, there’s nothing wrong with nudity and we need to establish trust, so here we are. If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”


She snorted at his remark before releasing a deep, cleansing breath. “Garrett, thank you.”


He shifted his eyes back to hers, finding quiet resolve in them. “No need to thank me.”


“Oh, there totally is. But I won’t make you do something you don’t want to. And I won’t make you ask me to undress again.”


Her hands swept behind her back, her gaze locked on his as she unclasped her bra. It slid off her arm and to the floor without either set of eyes diverting. And when she tugged down her panties, kicking them to the pile to the side, he took a step forward to close the gap between them. Both his palms swept over her cheeks and into her hair, dragging her head back as he dipped his face into her neck. He sunk slowly, kneeling to gaze up at her naked frame.


And what a perfect body it was. Narrow and soft but with a touch of curve where it mattered most. Her skin was smooth marble, her nipples pert and pink and her body hair shorn away. He spun her, wanting to see the arch of her back below the russet curtain of her hair, the little bump of her ass, the calves that were so gorgeously muscled after years of wearing heels. He felt his pulse skip up at the idea of unleashing on her but pinched his forearm to reset and realign his scruples.


Contained and resolved, he rose slowly, easing up against her back as she inhaled. His arms reached around, one palm at her throat and the other cupping her breast. He applied gentle pressure, squeezing until she gasped. She didn’t fight back or shy away.

“Very nice. I think you can handle what’s next.”


“Yes, master,” she moaned sweetly, turning his blood to lava.


The palm on her breast slid south, with scraping nails abrading along its path. She gasped again, her nerves prickling below the skin. She knew where that hand was headed. And she knew he’d find a wet hot greeting when he got there.


His hand slid over her hip as he lowered his mouth to her collar. Dragging the barbell in his tongue over flesh, his roaming hand wandered closer to her center, sweeping his fingers to her inner thigh as she widened her stance. When he cupped her, he could feel her heartbeat in his palm.


His voice turned to scorching murmurs, sweeping his pierced tongue up her neck to feel her quiver. “You are a good girl. How far can I push you? A little farther I bet.”


She tried to respond, but both hand’s grips tightened just enough to keep her quiet. Instead, she leaned back into him, whimpering at the sensation of his rough palms on such tender skin.


He lifted her body, turning her around to face him and forcing her back against the post at the foot of the bed. He put her down and eased both her wrists up over her head.


“Stay put,” he instructed, grabbing one of her sheer knee socks from the floor. With his eyes locked on hers, he used it to tether her hands to the pole. With a saint’s patience, he traipsed both thumbs over her shoulders, down her sides to her hips before stepping back.


She tugged gently on the knot and found it loose enough to dislodge though she stopped short of pulling free. This was a test, one she intended to ace.


“Where are you right now?” He asked, stepping behind her, just out of sight behind the pole.


Her gaze was fixed on the fireplace, the rug in front of it and the pile of clothes she’d discarded. “Your playground.”


“Wrong, try again.”


“My playground.”


“You’re getting warmer,” he murmured, stepping up closer to her back and sliding a palm over her hip. “Where are you right now? What is this place?”


Her eyes closed, her arms going slack. “My safe space. Where I can unleash my passion.”


“Good girl. And who are you when you’re here?”


She swallowed hard as his palm neared her warm, wet center again. Words dried on her tongue as his fingers tucked between her legs and swept up inside her.


“Answer me, who are you here?”


“Any…” her voice fluttered as he drew slow circles over her clit with his index fingertip. “Anyone I want to be.”


“Mmm, and who is that?”


The incessant rubbing of the same spot, the nagging and intoxicating desire slowly drowning her, made her knees shake. She tugged against the restraints as her eyes clamped shut, fighting against the flood.


His voice grew fierce, demanding as he edged in close to her ear. “I will punish you if you don’t answer me. Don’t make me punish you. Now, I’ll ask once more. Who are you when you’re here?”


Electric shocks ran up her spine as her head tipped back, a low moan escaping as his finger flicked at her. It was a sensation she’d never felt before, one that pushed her mind and body to the brink. No one’s touch had ever been so excruciatingly intense, so inexplicably satisfying.


The world spun a few times, her body quivering, but then his hand was gone, swept away suddenly.


“Bad girl. I warned you.”


She was left trembling and dejected as he stepped around her, glaring at her with his arms crossed. Adding even more salt to the wound, he turned his back on her.


She almost wept. Her body slumped forward as she panted. “No, no, please. Please.”


He hid his grin before turning around, admonishment in his eyes. “Bad girls don’t get to make demands. Bad girls get punished.”


The word dragged her attention back up, just in time to see him grab her other stocking from the pile. He pinched her bottom lip to drag them apart, slipping the fabric between them and pulling her back against the pole. With swift fingers, he tied her head back, gagging her before stepping away. The hot glare in her eye, a mix of lust and rebellion, curled his lips into a sneer.

“No more begging.”


He slammed his right shoulder into her torso, forcing her back against the pole and leaving a sore spot at the small of her back. His left hand held her wrist restraints tight as his right hand’s fingers reclaimed their place between her legs. Dropping his forehead to her shoulder and using his size to keep her still, he abused the spot relentlessly.


Her desperate, muffled moans threatened his self-control. He squeezed his eyes shut to block out the temptation as her body clenched, her thighs squeezing his wrist like a vice. When the moans grew farther apart and her body slumped, he knew she was close.


Her chest seized, her body on fire as his thumb rubbed and his forefingers darted inside her. She wanted desperately to cling to him, to wrap her legs around him, anything to help balance on such shaky legs. But she was mercilessly pinned, tied up and quaking. She felt the telltale spasms of orgasm, the tickling pleasure spreading from his fingers out, but when she tried to pull away, sure she’d reached the pinnacle, he refused to move.


“A little farther,” he murmured in demand. “Come on, give me what I want.”


Her eyes slammed shut as her body caught fire. It was too intense, too agonizing to deal with. She was edging toward crying out for mercy against the gag, unsure if her body could handle any more.


Then, in a flash, everything changed. A calming swell overtook her, turning her muscles to jelly. Her moans quieted, her breathing slowed, and her world stopped dead as she constricted, groaned and released with an earth-shattering squeal.


Her knees gave out as she slid down the pole, wide-eyed, winded and awestruck. His palms, dampened by her deluge, caught her trembling frame before she made impact with the plank floor, easing her down slowly before undoing her restraints. Her arms dropped to his shoulders as his damp forehead touched hers for the briefest of seconds.


“Good girl,” he cooed, lifting her in his arms again. “Good girl.”


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