Authors: Danielle Taylor
Utterly lost in my own desire to be claimed by him, I can only manage to lie there and watch as he circles me on his bed. I don’t allow myself to consider how absurd it is that I am in a veritable stranger’s bed, or that I have given him my trust enough to allow him to restrain my hands and legs with absolutely no barriers between his hungry eyes and my body.
Exuding power strong enough to leave me trembling from no more than his eyes on my body, Dex continues his blatant perusal of me. His gaze is searing, unapologetic in its inspection of, quite literally, every inch of my naked flesh. With just a look, he has me grovelling.
“Please,” I whimper, unsure of what exactly I’m begging for.
Him.
I want all of him.
Need to feel his hands on me.
Want to see the rest of his body.
“What do you want, Lacy?” his voice is thick with scarcely restrained longing.
“I don’t know.” I shake my head against the softness of his pillow. “Anything. Just, do
something
!”
“Lacy,” he warns, a dark edge to my name.
“Fine! You want me to beg? I will. Touch me! Fuck me! Just…” My hips arch up from the mattress, seeking what they know they won’t receive. “Please, Dex.” This time I can barely get out a whisper. I get that we’re playing a game here, though I don’t know who is winning or if there’s even a point to it. I just want him to do something.
And then, oh my
gawd
…
My eyes crash shut. I want to cover my nakedness from his gaze in utter humiliation. I just went and begged a stranger to have sex with me.
“Hey, Lacy.” I feel his weight next to me on the bed, then the warmth of his bare flesh is pressed against me. “What’s the matter, love?”
For long moments, I don’t say anything at all. There is only our combined breathing, the thudding of my heart against my ribcage, and his hand, trailing continuously through the valley created by my breasts. Then he says, “You’re a virgin.”
A label.
It’s the truth but it’s still a label.
I hate labels.
Like adopted. Abandoned. Unwanted.
All my life I’ve been labeled. When will it stop? When I come to terms with who I am? Or do I have to come to terms with the fact that I will always be labeled?
Weight on the bed shifts and I feel his heat as he hovers above me. There is so much to Dex that I don’t need to see him to know where he is. Then his thighs rest between mine, the solid ridge of his very obvious arousal pushing against my throbbing and soaking wet core. I experienced many things when he kissed me against the door, the most prevalent being lust. Now, his lips moving in a slow dance with mine, Dex is showing me another side to him altogether. Soft, slow, sensual.
That same kiss moves down my body, tormenting me, turning me into a writhing, hot mess. Dex skims his fingertips over my belly, swirling, going lower…down…down…down to where I want and need him with a force that honestly shocks me. Up now, his fingers pause beneath the swell of my breasts, heavy with wanting his touch. He is only too happy to oblige me my unspoken demand, stroking up to find a pebbled nipple with each thumb and forefinger, and he pinches. Hard.
Fuck that feels good!
If his growls of laughter tell me anything, it’s that I might have just screamed those words out loud. I open my mouth to apologize and he presses a finger there, hushing me. “I like that, Lacy. Don’t hold back with me.”
Resuming where he left off, Dex aims his lips for no destination in particular, taking his time mapping out my flesh. His teasing kisses trail to the tops of my breasts which has me squirming for more. He pauses and I stare at him, waiting, silently groveling for him to go on. Those icy eyes burn into mine with unexpected tenderness making my breath hitch. It’s the words he speaks next that have my soul bowing to him in reverence.
“If you aren’t ready to go all the way, Lacy, I understand that and I respect it. But I
am
going to make you feel worshipped. All. Night. Long.”
Latching to one taut nipple, Dex pulls it deep into the wet heat of his mouth where he draws out his delicious torture. Back forming an arc and breasts thrust upwards, I’m completely open to this man, wanting everything he’s willing to offer me, and more. More. I need so much more. He has me wound up like a guitar string that’s about to snap if strummed too forcefully.
Lower still he takes his torment on my body, lips alternating with his tongue over my taut abdomen, only coming to a stop just above where I want him the most. His gaze holds mine, asking again. Asking what? I don’t know, but he damn well better do something soon. There are about five million firecrackers attached to my nerve endings, all lit and ready to go off. They just need permission. I can’t find my voice to make the request to him though.
Finally, Dex lets off a deep, low throaty laugh, leaning close to breathe me in. Oh. My. Gosh. The man is
smelling me
. Down there. It is the single sexiest thing I have ever seen. And he rolls his eyes back, licking his lips.
Oh God. Touch me. Please.
“All you had to do is ask, Lacy.”
Again, I must have spoken words instead of only thinking them. Or he’s telepathic…
With both hands cupping my ass he latches his mouth to my clit and I’m gone. Hips flying up, legs shaking, toes curling gone. Thrown into a pit of burning flames gone. But it’s one, rough finger sliding through my folds to push deep inside me, rubbing against some magical freaking spot that has me screaming out his name in a voice I don’t recognize.
I’m still riding out the tremors of my release as he moves up my body and cups my face in his hands, giving me the sweetest kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue and it is so hot that I want a repeat performance. I think he knows it too, probably by the way I slide my legs around his hips, crushing his hard as a steel girder arousal to the area his mouth and fingers just vacated.
“You have no clue how sexy that was, love.”
Sexy?
Perhaps, but I wouldn’t know. The word isn’t one I’ve ever heard used on me.
My arms are aching now from being held above my head for so long. Whimpering, I test the restraints. Too secure. Dex sees me though and without a word he unclips the soft leather, massaging my arms one at a time to help with the return of blood flow. Then he slides down my body to repeat the process with the straps around my ankles. When he’s finished, he collects me in his arms and holds me. I feel cherished. Precious. Special. Things that no one, besides my parents, has ever made me feel.
A little while later, my stomach growls. Chuckling low in his gut, Dex rolls away to reach for his phone in his pocket. He makes a call, ordering two large pizzas from a chain we have back home, asking me what I want on one of them. Happy to hear food will be here soon, I allow myself the fantasy and relax into his arms again. It’s weird how comfortable I am with him, though I haven’t known him for very long.
4
The sound of a ringing phone tears me from the most delicious, erotic dream. Slowly, I reach for the cordless on my night table – only to find someone’s arm instead. The events of last night come rushing back to me; eating pizza, talking, playing together…among other things, and my cheeks flush in embarrassment. I don’t even know his last name and I let him do things to me. Things no one else has done. Then I realize I’m naked under the covers. And my phone is still ringing.
Finding my blouse, I shove it on before I answer, seeing from my display screen that it is definitely Melanie calling me back. She doesn’t waste any time. We spoke when I was still in Texas, and I told her I was open to working anywhere. Given my limited experience with hospitality employment, I thought it might be harder to place me than someone who had done this stuff before.
“I’ve got you an incredible job lined up for you, Lacy!” Melanie exclaims through the line. “Remember how you told me you’d love some kitchen experience? To work with chefs?”
“Yeah, I do.” For as long as I can remember, I’ve absolutely loved being in the kitchen. My mom is an amazing baker, but her everyday cooking always took more effort, and she always let me help. The earliest memories I have are in the kitchen or at the butcher or even a market. Mom and I used to go to farmer’s markets all the time to get the freshest fruit and vegetables, and I learned early on how to choose the freshest produce.
From there it turned into a near obsession, cooking. Trying to make my favorite meals as healthy as possible, especially after Dad suffered a heart attack. I realized then that I didn’t know anything about my actual family health history and could have some underlying issue. I love fries and fried foods – who doesn’t? – but until I know that I don’t have a history of heart disease or anything else, I’m going to be careful, only indulging every once in a while.
“Well, I’ve got you a month long position at an inn with a five star restaurant. The chef there, Rhys Mackintosh, loves taking on new staff and he has an opening right now. Have you got a pen and paper handy?”
I fumble through my purse for those items and when I’m ready, she gives me all the details. I’m supposed to call Rhys and arrange my travel up there as soon as possible. My heart drops into my stomach and I keep myself intact while finishing up the conversation with Melanie, promising to get in touch with Ronan when I’m done.
It’s the phone call I wanted, the one I’d been waiting for, and now…
Now I don’t know what to do. I want to stay here with Dex. I want to do anything and everything he tells me to.
“That was it, wasn’t it?”
I drop down onto the edge of his bed, eyes prickling with the threat of tears. “Yeah. I was so excited yesterday. Now, I don’t know.”
“You’ve got to go, Lacy. Go and explore and have fun, find yourself. But during that time, I…” He curses. “Don’t forget about me, love, yeah? England isn’t that big, when you actually think about it.”
Biting my tongue doesn’t work to keep in a sob so I let it out. Even I’m not so stupid as to think there could be anything between us to hold on to after one night. “The job isn’t in England, Dex.”
“Wales then?”
I shake my head, sending a torrent of cinnamon strands to drape around my face.
He sighs, a resigned sound. “Scotland.”
“For a month.” A. Whole. Freaking. Month.
The hiss of air rushing from his lungs says it all. It’s too long a time to ask him to wait. He’s too much man to be
kept
waiting. It fucking hurts. I hardly know him and it hurts to
think
about not being able to touch him, kiss him. Hurts even more for me to imagine him with anyone else.
There isn’t much more either of us can say in regards to our current situation. Wrong place, wrong time, my brain rationalizes while my heart comes back with a soul crushing ache, a pain so real it feels like someone has just stabbed me in the chest with thousands of random and blunt objects, all at the exact same moment.
Without warning, Dex leaves me alone in his room. His actions are loud enough for me to understand and rather than dwelling and letting pain engulf me, I know I have to go. Locating the rest of my clothes, scattered over his floor, I swap the used undergarments for clean ones and find something to put on for the day. I need to get out of here, away from the foolish mistake I made. The only saving grace I can think of while gathering my stuff together and silently making my way to his door is that Mom and Dad won’t ever know about this.
Stuffing my feet into my shoes, I turn the locks and pull the chain aside, hoisting my luggage up. For a minute, I was hoping that Dex would stop me, that he would run up and take me in his arms, tell me everything would be okay.
But this isn’t a movie. This is real life.
My
real life, and that stuff never happens to me. I only have myself to rely on here and I need to remember that. I’m here for me, to find out who I am, not to lose my heart.
Squaring my shoulders, I begin making the trek down the old concrete steps and out onto the street. I take comfort from the hardness of my guitar case strapped to my back, and with the knowledge that I have a place to go to where I can immerse myself deeply in my new job.
I’m telling myself as I walk down the road, trying to get my bearings, that it doesn’t matter – Dex doesn’t mean anything to me and I don’t mean anything to him. It was a one-time thing. People do this all the time.
So why does my chest feel tight?
Ignore it
, I tell myself, looking for something, anything familiar to help me get back to the park or downtown. It’s sheer luck that I catch a black Hackney cab driving down the street with its light on and I flag the vehicle down, knowing full well I could waste the entire day trying to find my way to where I need to be on foot.
Inside the cab, I tell the driver where to take me and slump back in my seat. I resist for a second but then give in and glance behind me. But before I give myself a chance to see that he’s not there, I shut my eyes and face the front again.
~~~
Keep your eye out for the next installment of
Finding Me to see what happens!
Thanks for reading
xox Danielle
About the Author
Danielle Taylor has lived in and travelled to many countries. She enjoys many different genres – both writing and reading – and always seems to have a project on the go. Feel free to like her page on
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