The Darker Side of Pleasure (5 page)

Jillian lay beneath the warmth of her husband’s big body. She felt wonderful. Her whole system was still buzzing with the aftershocks of two of the most powerful orgasms of her life. Her husband, the man she loved, was pressed against her still. And for the first time in far too long, she felt a hint of the happiness she’d been missing.

Cam had been right, she thought. This was going to help them. It was going to help her. While she’d been in his arms, while he’d been tormenting her with pleasure, she hadn’t thought once about losing the baby.

Damn!

There it was, the memory that had kept her mind tied up in grief for almost a year. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Not now.

But it was too late. She pushed Cam off her, rolled onto her side.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

He sounded truly confused. Well, he was a man. She couldn’t expect him to be psychic, especially only moments after sex.

The tears started. She couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the powerful orgasms, or just the hour of closeness, but she felt all opened up inside. Cam’s hand slid over her shoulder, but she flinched away. Despite the closeness they’d just shared, she couldn’t stand his touch. She was too raw. It would send her over the edge, and she might never come back.

“Jillian. Please.” He bent over her side, kissing her shoulder, trying to pull her against his body, but she couldn’t let him.

She sat up, intending to flee to the bathroom, but he wouldn’t allow her to. He held her tight in his arms, pressing her into the warmth of his big, solid body. A sob escaped her.

“I can’t do this, Cam.”

“Yes, you can. And it’s about time. You have to share this part of yourself with me, too. Don’t you get it? If you don’t, it’ll always be there between us.”

“It’s too hard!”

“You have to do this. It’s the only way you’ll come back to me.”

Was that a note of desperation in his voice? Cam, who was always so strong, who could handle anything? Her heart melted a little at the thought. She was hurting him. She’d known it before, in a distant kind of way. Now she began to understand that losing the baby had been hard on him, too.

“Jillian, talk to me. I can’t lose you again, after just beginning to get you back. Come on, honey. We’ve lost too much already. Too much time, too much of each other.”

“I know.” She sniffled, and Cam grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and put it into her hand. “I’m trying. And this was…wonderful. It was the first time in so long I’ve felt even vaguely good. Maybe it was too good.”

“Too good?” She could hear the hurt in his voice.

“I mean that it’s such a contrast to the way I’ve been feeling for so long, it’s a shock. To feel good. To feel close to you again.”

The room was almost entirely dark now. The sun had set and the only light came from the candles burning on the dresser. She felt dark inside, too, yet the darkness of the room was welcoming, womblike. She couldn’t have faced Cam now, in the stark light of day.

He was stroking her hair, kissing the top of her head, and she allowed herself to relax into his embrace. To feel the safety of him. This was her own fault, she knew. It was her body that hadn’t been able to hang on to their baby, and her selfish grief that had driven a wedge between them. It was time to try to make it all right. And she would try. She wasn’t as sure of her strength as Cam seemed to be. But she knew she could lean on him, on his strength. He was always there for her. She needed to appreciate that more. She was so damn lucky.

“I love you, Cam. So much!”

He paused, as though he was surprised at her words.

“I love you, too, honey. You know I do. Come on. Lie down with me. Rest. I’ll be right here.”

She snuggled into his strong arms. She wanted to learn to trust him again, to learn to trust herself. She didn’t know how long it would take. She only knew it would be hard. But here she was, with her wonderful husband: a man who loved her in a way she didn’t truly deserve. She tried to remember why, but her mind began to drift, and soon, she was fast asleep.

Sometime in the night Jillian awoke. Cam’s arms were still wrapped around her as he spooned her from behind. His cock was hard again. His deep, even breathing told her that he slept. She tried to relax back into sleep, too, but she couldn’t. Her body was too aware of him. She pressed her buttocks back, pushing and rubbing against his thick erection. She wasn’t even sure he was awake when his hand snaked down between her aching thighs and he began to play gently with her. She moved her thighs apart to grant him better access. His hips thrust against her, his big cock seeking entrance. Moving her buttocks higher and her leg up, she arched against his hips until she could guide his cock into her already wet and ready sex. He pushed into her slowly. The pleasure was exquisite, yet it was all softer and sweeter than it had been earlier.

Cam gave her a sleepy kiss on the top of her head as he began to move. His cock was thick and heavy inside her. His fingers glided over her swollen clit, sliding in the damp heat. Her whole body was filled with sensation. Sharp, electric. The dual sensations were incredible, taking her quickly toward the peak. She pushed back into him, onto his hot and throbbing shaft. His hand followed her movement, rubbing, rubbing on her tight, hard nub as he thrust harder into her.

She felt his sharp intake of breath just as the first wave of orgasm hit her. He pounded into her, filling her to bursting, while his fingers pressed hard into her clit, and she came with a blast of fireworks going off in her head. She felt the hot spurt of his seed inside her as she spasmed around him, as they came together in a glorious burst of sensation.

They were both breathing hard. His cock softened inside her, but he didn’t pull out. Even soft, Cam was always big. She didn’t want to think about anything else right now. He felt too good to her, her big husband with the wonderful cock and magical hands. Why hadn’t she remembered this about him? She was going to try very hard never to forget again.

But for now, she was so tired. Once again, she slept.

CHAPTER THREE

T
HE NEXT DAY AT WORK PASSED IN A DREAMLIKE
haze for Jillian. Sensual dreams that distracted her, making it hard to concentrate on anything. Her limbs were sore from straining against the ropes, yet she reveled in the sensation. Her skin was sensitive to the tiniest breeze, to the scant friction of her silk blouse when she moved.

She sat at the enormous glass expanse of her desk at the F. D. Leighton Gallery, where she was the director. Images flashed through her mind: the intensity of Cam’s expression as he held himself over her, thrusting into her body. The sensation of the ropes twining her wrists and ankles. Imagining what else he might do to her.

The ring of the phone startled her out of her reverie.

“F. D. Leighton Gallery, Jillian Ross speaking.”

“Jillian, it’s Briana. How’s it going there without me?”

Briana Douglas was her assistant at the gallery, her right hand, and her best friend. She was currently at home recovering from a broken leg, the result of a skiing accident.

“It’s fine…not the same without you here, Bri.”

“Of course not.” There was laughter in her voice. “So, what’s happening? How’s the Madonna and Child installation going?”

“Oh…it’s going fine.”

“Jillian? Wanna tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. Really good, in fact. Yeah, really good.” She smiled, remembering the previous night. Had Cam ever played her body so expertly before?

“Well, you seem pretty spaced out. What is
up
with you?”

Jillian grinned to herself, and tapped her coffee mug with a pen. “Um…”

How much to tell? Briana was her best friend, but she still couldn’t tell her she was as sexually sated as she’d ever been in her life because her husband had tied her up last night.

“Things are really good with Cam and me right now, that’s all.”

“You got laid, didn’t you?”

Jillian was surprised to find herself blushing. “I, uh…yeah.”

“Sounds like it was fabulous, too. With that gorgeous husband of yours! So, was it awesome? Please tell me it was. I haven’t been laid in weeks. It’s just been me and my little electronic toys since I broke my leg. I need to live vicariously through others.”

“Too much information, Bri.”

“Sorry. But, you see what bad shape I’m in?”

Jillian felt a sudden need to change the subject, before her lust-dazed mind caused her to blurt out too much. “So, when are you coming back to work?”

“My doctor says I can come back on Monday. That’s what I called about.”

“That’s great news. We’ll try to make sure you don’t overdo it.”

“So, I’ll see you Monday. Maybe your brain will be working again by then.”

Jillian laughed. “And maybe not, if I’m lucky.”

They hung up and Jillian went back to her earlier musings. Briana was right: Cam was gorgeous. And great in bed. How had she forgotten that for all those months? The things he could do with his hands and his mouth, not to mention that big, beautiful cock of his.

Her sex began to heat up just thinking about him, and she suddenly wished she had one of Briana’s toys at work with her.

Lord, she was never going to get any work done this way! She gave herself a stern mental shake, and opened the folder on her desk. Inside were photographs of paintings by a new artist, a woman who painted nudes in the neoclassical style. Normally it was not something a progressive gallery like Leighton’s would consider, but the subject matter in each piece set the series apart.

In the first one, a woman sat on the edge of a bathtub, her auburn hair coiled high on her head, the line of her slender neck and shoulders lovely to look at. In her hands she held a small phallus. The colors were lush, yet subtle at the same time, the overall chiaroscuro giving it a hazy, dreamlike quality that was apparent in all of the paintings.

Jillian stared at the dildo in the picture. It was lifelike in style and done in great detail. Wonderfully done, though this was not what she needed to cool her blood. But she couldn’t stop looking.

She forced herself to turn the page. The next painting was of a man with a long, lean body like Cam’s. He leaned against a roughly textured stucco wall, his head back, his eyes closed, while he stroked his erection with his hand. Wrapped around his wrist was a small piece of barbed wire. Jillian realized she was getting wet just looking at it.

She’d seen some of these paintings in person at the artist’s studio. They hadn’t had this effect on her then. But her response now was entirely different. What had changed?

It wasn’t the paintings. It was her. Her experience with Cam had awakened her body, her sex drive. Not just awakened it, but blasted it wide open. Now it was a force to be reckoned with, and something she wanted to explore.

She moved on to the next one. A woman again, this time bound to a tree with what looked to be vines. They wrapped sinuously around her arms and legs, with one piece sliding between her thighs.

Jillian squeezed her own thighs together beneath her desk. Her sex had begun to throb with need. She got up and went to lock the door of her office.