The Bad Boys of Eden (27 page)

Carissa stiffened at the sound of his laughter. “Do I know you?”

He’d nearly revealed himself. Until he convinced her he was the right man to indulge her fantasy, he couldn’t let her know it was him. Carissa would never risk their friendship on what she would think was just sex. He deepened his voice once more. “No.”

She didn’t seem convinced, but mercifully she let it slide. “I can’t let a man drag me around on a leash.”

Jett grimaced. The asshole
had
scared her, given her a bad impression of what it meant to submit. “I don’t drag women around.”

“He was cruel to her.”

Jett wanted to go find Gregory and beat the shit out of the man. “The only pain I give would bring you pleasure.”

“Even if I did something wrong? I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how—”

“I would like to teach you. How long are you staying at Eden?”

“A week.”

“Give me the week. Promise to be my submissive and I’ll show you exactly how incredible it can be to put yourself in the hands of a man whose only goal is to give you as many orgasms as you can stand.”

She laughed. “Orgasms sound nice.”

Carissa wasn’t shy about asking for what she wanted. It was a refreshing change, given his last few girlfriends, who preferred to play games and make him guess what they wanted.

“Should we start your lessons?”

“Now?”

Carissa’s courage was faltering in the face of making her fantasy a reality.

Jett lifted the hand wrapped around her waist to her breast. Cupping it, he pressed firmly, applying pressure until he heard her gasp.

“Now.”

Carissa didn’t protest or resist when Jett placed his hands on her hips and slowly pushed her forward.

“Where are we going?”

Jett didn’t bother to respond, just continued to move them across the room. While there were many public areas where couples who enjoyed exhibitionism could play in front of an audience, Jett suspected Carissa wasn’t ready for that. She was questioning her ability to submit, so he would have to guide her along the path slowly.

He had the perfect place in mind. He had spotted it when Roan had given him the tour. When they reached the private, curtained area, Jett directed her inside then bid her to kneel on the spanking bench. It was one of Roan’s designs, with black leather padding covering the two levels. Carissa’s knees would be cushioned on the lower bench, her upper body draped over the higher surface, which tilted slightly so that her head would be lower than her hips. It would leave her ass raised, vulnerable. There were straps attached to the four corners.

Carissa hesitated, studying the bench. He was pleased that, while she was excited and curious, her sense of self-preservation was firmly in place.

“Are you going to tie me up?”

“Do you want me to?”

She started to shrug, but he wasn’t willing to let her off easy. This night would only succeed if she were honest about her desires, her needs.

“Yes or no.”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing. You said yes. Kneel.”

She lowered herself to the padded bench, offering no resistance as he pressed on her back until her stomach was flat against the surface, her arms dangling toward the floor. Once she was crouched over the bench, he moved closer, brushing her ass with his crotch, letting her feel his erection.

Her hands hung loose, though she clenched her fingers tightly around the front legs of the bench. He considered using the straps to secure her, and then decided against it. Jett understood the psychology of BDSM well enough to realize there were other ways to make Carissa feel captured.

He bent over her, pressing his chest against her back, caging her beneath him. She tried to lift up—the response an instinctual one—to test her ability to escape. He prevented her movement, putting more of his weight on her.

Carissa stilled, but he felt the stiffness in her posture when he lifted the mask from her face.

“Relax,” he whispered.

She snorted softly. “Yeah right.”

“The correct response is ‘Yes, Sir’.”

Her right cheek rested against the leather and she licked her lips nervously. “Yes, Sir.” He saw her struggling to use her peripheral vision to see his face, but the mask and near darkness of the curtained area protected his anonymity.

“I’m going to list some things. Your only responses are yes or no. Understand?”

She nodded. Then quickly added, “Yes…Sir”

Jett decided to start easy, tackling something they’d already discussed. “Bondage.”

“Yes.”

“Spanking.”

“Yes.”

Her answers were immediate, letting Jett know she had indeed been fantasizing about this.

“Flogger.”

This time her response took longer.

“Yes?”

He heard the question in her voice, but he let it go.

“Exhibitionism.”

“Yes.”

“Anal.”

“Shit,” she muttered.

Jett tried not to laugh. “That’s not an answer.”

“Yes, dammit.”

“Threesome.” Jett wasn’t sure why he’d added that to his list. It certainly wasn’t something he’d ever seriously considered trying himself, even though his brother, Justin, found sharing the woman he loved hot. Carissa had remarked once how cool she thought Justin’s relationship with Bella and Ned was. Jett hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now that he was looking at Carissa and thinking girlfriend, he wondered just how interested she was.

Carissa shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. I’m not very good at sharing.”

For a moment, Jett considered bending down to place a kiss on Carissa’s cheek. However, he feared that would be too familiar, would give him away.

Instead, he continued his list. “Nipple clamps.”

“Yes.”

“Role play.”

“This is kind of a long list. I’m only here for one week.”

This time, he did chuckle. She was too adorable, too funny. She also didn’t realize they had much longer than one week. Forever was starting to sound feasible.

“Answer my question or I’ll spank you. You failed to respond correctly to most of these. Role play.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl. Now. Tell me your dirtiest fantasy.”

She hesitated. “I…I—”

“This will only work if you’re completely honest about what you want. As you said, our time is limited.”

“Capture.”

Though her response was short and succinct, it fired off a million kinky scenes in Jett’s mind as he considered all the ways he’d like to capture her. Claim her. Take her.

He pressed his lips to her ear and whispered his own single word. “Yes.”

With that, he pushed up, pulling her hands as he went, clasping them behind her back. “Your safe word is red. Say that and I’ll stop whatever it is I’m doing and we’ll talk about it. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He’d taken a pair of handcuffs from the toy room after signing in with Roan. Pulling them from his back pocket, he slipped them around Carissa’s wrists. She startled and started to rise, but he placed a firm hand on her upper back. “Don’t move.”

She’d obviously expected him to employ the straps on the bench. He liked keeping her off balance, always wondering what was coming next by not being predictable. She was captive to him and his desires.

He’d sensed her beginning to relax as they spoke. Jett had hoped that by talking a bit she would start to feel more comfortable. Now, with one click of the cuffs, he’d taken that comfort away, keeping her on her toes, wondering what would come next. The fear and excitement of the unknown would only continue to build her arousal.

The same held true for him. His cock was currently hard enough to pound nails in concrete. He was aching to touch her. To fuck her.

He had to keep reminding himself this was Carissa. His Carissa. The consequences of their actions tonight would be long reaching. Despite Carissa’s belief she was indulging in some kinky play with a stranger, when he took the mask off, everything would change.

That thought gave him pause. He was taking the choice of leaving their friendship behind, to embark on something much more, out of Carissa’s hands. He tried to summon up some guilt about it, but he couldn’t. The magic of Eden was too powerful. He’d never been more certain about anything in his life. He wasn’t going to let this moment, this chance for happiness, slip by simply because of Carissa’s practicality. He’d show her there was something to be said for being impulsive.

Reaching lower, he lifted her skirt, groaning when he discovered her ass bare. “Dirty girl.”

His words weren’t an admonition, they were praise. He ran his hand over the smooth skin, enjoying the slight shudder his touch provoked.

Carissa wiggled her ass. A sexy invitation.

He tapped on the inside of her knees. “Open your legs.”

She followed his command, spreading her thighs apart as much as the bench would allow. Jett ran his fingers along her wet slit.

Carissa gasped, squirmed, encouraged him without words to touch her again, to go deeper. She tried to press toward him, but he didn’t give her what she wanted.

He dragged his fingers to her clit, lightly caressing the tiny button. It wasn’t enough for her and she let him know. “Harder,” she urged.

Jett took his hand away from her completely, letting her feel its absence for a few seconds before he swatted her ass firmly.

She gasped and tried to raise her chest. He pressed his hand to her upper back, holding her against the leather as he spanked her again.

“Wait. No.” She continued to struggle.

Jett paused briefly, though he didn’t lighten his grip. “The only word you’re allowed to speak is red. Say that now or be quiet.”

She stopped moving, her breathing faster, louder. For a moment, he feared he’d gone too far, too fast. Jett reached out and stroked her ass gently, hoping she’d understand that pleasure and pain could exist together.

“I…” Carissa’s voice faltered. Jett silently willed her not to say the safe word.

Finally, she said, “I don’t want you to stop.”

He slowly released the breath he’d been holding. Carissa wouldn’t give up on something she wanted so easily.

He rewarded her courage by running his fingers along her slit once more. This time he pushed two fingers into her opening to the first knuckle.

Seven years he’d been walking around with blinders on and now—within a single night—he’d found something he didn’t even know he’d been looking for. He’d sure as hell turned a corner, but it wasn’t on the street he’d been walking down. He wasn’t sure it was even in the same state. Jett tried to remember if any moment in his life had ever felt this right, but nothing came to mind.

He pressed a bit deeper and it fired Carissa’s arousal once more. She relaxed against the bench, her sigh one of bliss. She started to say, “Yes,” but she cut the sound off, clearly recalling his admonition against speaking.

She’d said she would find submission difficult, but Jett was starting to think she was better at it than she realized.

He removed his fingers—drenched with her body’s juices—and pressed them against her clit. This time, he gave her the pressure she wanted. He started with a slow caress against the sensitive nub, then built up the speed, following the cues of Carissa’s body. Her hips were thrusting in time with his strokes—as much as her position would allow—and her moans grew louder.

Jett wanted to see her orgasm more than he wanted his next breath, but it was too soon. She was going to come apart at his touch—more than once tonight if he had his way—but he was going to make her work for it, earn it.

He stopped when he felt her reaching the brink. She groaned, then turned her head toward him. He knew her well enough to know she’d be pissed off. He silenced her with a hard slap on her ass.

This time, she didn’t resist the pain, didn’t seek to escape it. Jett continued to spank her, varying the placement. Some of his slaps were hard, others light. While she never knew what was coming, she started anticipating his hand, started lifting her hips toward him.

Just when they began to fall into a rhythm, he halted the spanking. Carissa moaned, but didn’t bother to complain. She was a quick study.

He dipped his fingers into her pussy, driving two deep. Carissa jerked at the unexpected touch. Clearly she’d expected gentleness. He loved surprising her, keeping her on edge and always wondering.

He thrust the fingers in roughly a dozen times…just until he felt Carissa’s inner muscles begin to flutter, to clench. He removed his hand once more, leaving her gasping and pleading.

“Damn you! Please.”

She’d forgotten his command to remain silent, but he didn’t punish her for it. There was nothing hotter on Earth than the sound of Carissa begging for him to fuck her.

Jett refused to give in, to let the evening end too soon. He repeated his sensuous torture—toying with her clit, spanking her ass, stroking the sensitive flesh, thrusting his fingers into her hot, wet pussy. Over and over, he drove her to the edge, never allowing her to fall into the white-hot bliss.