One Urge, One Plea, Keep Me Trilogy Read online

  “Stop doing that.”

  He smirks and raises a brow. “Doing what, Alayna?”

  “You’re being manipulative, and stop saying my name in that tone.”

  “I relish the way your name sounds off my tongue, and you do to so no.” He takes another sip of his coffee. “I’m not trying to manipulate. I like you.”

  “Let me hear this arrangement you have in mind.”

  “I want you to move to New York, live in one of my apartments and spend time with me. We’ll continue where we left off, and I–I’ll try to be more affectionate.”

  “You’ll try? Wow. You sure know how to make a woman feel special, and I’ll tell you right now, I am not like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. I am not being hired, and I am not going to be at your beckon call,” I say angrily.

  Damon lets out a loud huff and rubs the back of his neck. “Alayna, I’m trying to tell you that I only plan to have sex with you, and I don’t want you to engage in sexual activity with anyone else, either. Like I told you when I sent the plane ticket, I’d never think of you as someone hired.”

  “Why me, Damon? You were supposed to let me go. I imagine you were getting your needs met before me, so why didn’t you go back to whatever you were doing then ... or whoever you were doing?”

  “I would answer that, but I’m not sure myself. I told you at the restaurant, Alayna; I can’t get you out of my mind,” he says in an aggravated tone. “I’ve wished it more times than I could count. It would be less complicated, but I was not successful.”

  He sets his mug on the end table and strolls in front of me. Oh shit. Hands are shoved into the pockets of his khakis that look custom-fit. They have to be tailored to his exact measurements. His dark brown dress shirt is the same way, fitting him perfectly.

  Broad shoulders fill it out, and then it tapers at his waist. Sleeves are rolled up at his forearms, and the hair showing is manly and sexy, along with the gold watch he’s wearing. He plants those big, talented hands on each side of me on the cushion like he’s done before.

  His face hovers in front of mine, and I have to close my eyes as I inhale his scent. An image of Damon and I rolling around in crisp, cool sheets in a hut on a beach invades my mind.

  “I have to have you, precious.” His nose runs along my jaw to my ear ... down my neck, and I hear him breathe me in. “Fuck, Alayna. I’ve never smelled or tasted anything more appetizing than you. So. Damn. Sweet.”

  I feel the tears filling my eyes.

  “Don’t, Damon. Don’t suck me back in.”

  He mutters under his breath in frustration and sits right next to me on the sofa. “This doesn’t have to be some dirty secret, Alayna. It can be a good thing. I don’t need to tell you what the sexual connection is like between us. You feel it.”

  Taking the mug out of my hand, he reaches across me and sets it on the table. I shift, leaning back against the arm of the sofa, making an effort to get away from him. Well, a part of me is making a tiny effort.

  His hand presses between my hip and the sofa while the other slides deep into my hair. “Don’t deny us this, Alayna. You loved what we were doing and are eager to explore it further.”

  He leans over and begins circling his tongue up my ear. Fingers trace my scalp, and as much as I should be screaming no, my body is screaming yes, yes, yes!

  He pulls back, and I see the orange and yellow hues from the fireplace flicker in his raven eyes. I’ve never in my life seen a more attractive, virile man. My lip defies me and quivers. Damn him.

  After sitting up, he pulls one of my legs across his lap and slowly unzips the zipper on my knee-high boot. He slides it off, and once again, I’m witnessing that there is nothing this man can’t make look sexy.

  He pulls the other leg across and repeats the process. Reaching over, he undoes my belt, his eyes glued to mine the entire time.

  “Maybe only subconsciously, but I believe when you added the belt this morning, you were hoping I’d find a use for it.” He slides it out from around my waist and sets it beside him on the sofa.

  Next, he slowly pulls my sweater over my head and unzips my jeans, his hungry eyes still holding my gaze. Scooting down the sofa, he pulls them until they’re off my legs.

  The burning ache is back, my mouth watering and pulse quickening. I’m craving a Damon fix. I watch him soak in the look of my lacy, nude panties and bra. He’s right. I am dressing different. I feel sexy for the first time in my life and find myself accentuating that.

  Like a snake, he leans over and slithers up my legs. His eyes close, and I watch him breath in my scent again as he works his way up. Unable to stop myself, my legs fall open as his mouth closes in on my saturated panties.

  His hot breath penetrates and tongue swirls along the outside of the fabric, causing me to dig my heels into the couch. “I won’t rip these, but they need to come off.”

  Sitting right back up, he tauntingly slides my panties down my legs. The large bulge in his pants makes the throbbing only grow stronger as my body yearns for him to fill it. He takes hold of the belt and moves closer to me.

  “Give me your wrists, Alayna. I sense your impatience, and I know exactly where you intend for those hands to go.”

  “I thought we came to a compromise?”

  He looks up at me pointedly.

  “Trust me. You don’t want me to bite you that hard there.” His erotic words slice through me, and I’m fighting for air. He can bite me anywhere and brand me as his. Whatever he needs, I’ll provide it.

  I put my hands together, and he wraps the belt around them several times before fastening it tight. He catches me off guard when he grabs my thighs and yanks me down until I’m flat on my back.

  Settling his chest between my legs, his tongue plunges inside me as fingers dig into the sides of my ass. I now feel the soreness from where they were pressing last night, but I also feel immense pleasure from his zealous tongue. He abruptly pulls his mouth away.

  “No, please don’t stop.”

  “Say you want me to fuck you hard, Alayna, and I’ll make you come this way first.”

  “I want you to fuck me hard!”

  Damon growls, pushing his tongue in farther before he pulls it out and traces my clit. He repeats his path several times, rubbing along my tingling flesh.

  I’m going insane from the powerful sensations, and I could still grip his hair since my hands are at my stomach but I don’t. He flicks his tongue and blows his fiery breath on me.

  I’m moaning from the pleasure as my heels shove harder into the sofa. His teeth latch on to the top of my clit, and I can’t take it anymore. I grab hold of his silky strands and pull hard.

  “Pull my hair and I bite, Alayna, or have you already forgotten?”

  “How could I forget? Oh, don’t stop,” I say breathless.

  “My precious is braver than I thought.” He bites the tender skin on the inside crease of my leg. It hurts, but I can’t keep from pulling harder on his hair.

  “I’m beginning to think you enjoy the biting.”

  “Please, let me come,” I say.

  He lays languid circles to my clit, driving me insane and sending out unabashed cries from my lungs. Moving to my legs again, I feel the skin tugging from his teeth. He’s drawing this out, denying my release.

  All along my inner thighs, he takes short, swift bites before yanking me hard against his mouth and burying his face. He flits his tongue until I’m screaming his name, the fits of pleasure seizing me. His fingers squeezing my ass hold me to his wicked mouth that is unrelenting.

  I crinkle his hair tighter in my hands, so he takes hold of the top of my clit and drags it hard between his teeth again, intensifying my orgasm that seems to go on forever.

  He’s off of me and stripping his clothes. I’m sated, unable to prevent my eyes from closing. Damon is soon between my legs, plunging into me.

  With one hand, he grabs my wrists and pulls them above me, holding them by the belt strap as he fucks me hard. I
feel swathed in Damon’s attention as his weight presses, binding our bodies.

  He’s driving into me, and with each plunge, the pleasure escalates, a tingle starting in my thighs, smoldering before it travels upward. Damon is giving only what he wants but is taking everything.

  “I’m going to come.”

  “No.”

  “Damon, I can’t help it.”

  The asshole stills.

  “Tell me you’ll move to the city, and I’ll let you come.”

  “New York, but I can’t promise the city,” I say, panting for air, exasperated by his behavior once again. He begins to slide forward as slowly as possible.

  “City, Alayna. Say it. I want you close by.”

  He wants me here. “Fine. I’ll move to the city.”

  Damon pulls back and slams into me, picking up his rhythm. My needy flesh feels the tingle again, motivating my muscles to squeeze, seeking to draw out another release.

  “Oh god!” I moan, cry, scream, the friction scoring the pleasure into fragments across my body that collectively create an earth-shattering orgasm.

  The belt is yanked tighter as his other hand wedges between me and the sofa. He’s holding himself up as he thrusts one last time, going over the edge with me. My name from his lips reverberates throughout the house.

  After he calms, he pulls my wrists down between our chests and unhooks the belt. Throwing it to the floor, he collapses onto me. My arms instinctually wrap around his back, and he lets them.

  “How you respond to me, Alayna, drives me wild.” His face nuzzles between my neck and hair, and I’m surprised when he relaxes, giving me the time to bask in the feel of his solid wall of strength and most importantly, the intimate moment we’re sharing.

  “I’m taking you to dinner, and I want you to wear your black dress. I didn’t get to remove it last night.”

  “I can’t; it needs laundered.”

  Damon lifts his head to look at me.

  “I had Margaret take care of having it cleaned while you were out today.”

  “Um, OK. I appreciate the gesture, but do I have no privacy where you’re concerned?”

  His face goes back into my hair.

  “Have I told you how good you smell?” he asks in a muffled sound.

  I begin to giggle and feel him smile against my neck as he aims to distract me. How will I ever have a say with this man?

  Damon

  Alayna takes a long drink of her wine, and I notice she’s glancing around as she’s drinking.

  “What are you pondering, Alayna?”

  “This is the nicest place I’ve ever been to dinner. I feel out of place. My dress isn’t even elegant enough for this restaurant.”

  I reach across the table and take her hand.

  “Why do you think you don’t deserve to be here?”

  “I guess I don’t believe I’ve earned it.”

  “Alayna, one profession might pay more than another, yet the same amount of hard work could be put into both, and then some people are born into wealth and never lift a finger.”

  “My family was hard-working but middle-class. I was taught to be frugal, and especially the last two years, I’ve had to watch my spending since I’m completely on my own.”

  “You deserve it as much as anyone else. You also need to stop thinking this way since I’m going to continue doing things for you. Frankly, you need to stop thinking so much. Live a little.”

  She wrinkles her forehead and frowns.

  “Stop frowning. What’s the problem now?”

  “Felicia says the same thing. She thinks I’m too uptight. Well, that was until today. She saw my neck.”

  “I haven’t had a good look at it. I was too busy fucking you and burying my face against it since you smell so damn good.”

  She giggles, and I love it, but she doesn’t need to know that.

  “What’s so humorous, Alayna?” I ask sternly.

  “You and the F-bomb. I find it funny.”

  “I want to do a scene with you. I need you to be more submissive at times.”

  She nervously picks up her drink and takes a gulp.

  “I need more wine.”

  “I don’t think that’s wise if we’re going to play later. You need to be able to feel everything, so you can tell me to stop if necessary.”

  She’s glancing around and chewing on her lip.

  “Talk to me, Alayna.”

  Meeting my gaze, she releases my hand and puts hers in her lap. It drives me mad how confused she is over this topic. I’m used to dealing with true subs who know what they like and who aren’t afraid.

  But at the same time, her innocence gives me a sense of control, and I’m pleased she hasn’t experienced these things with anyone else.

  “What do you want to do to me?”

  “I’m going to use a flogger on you. It’s gentler. We can work our way up from there. This isn’t only about what I want to do to you. It’s about what I want to do with you. The desire to participate has to be there on your end, and you must get pleasure out of it.”

  “Sir, could I bring you anything else this evening?” our waiter asks.

  “You can bring the check now. Thank you.”

  Alayna nervously watches him walk away.

  “You have to feel comfortable telling me what you enjoy and what you don’t, especially since you haven’t told me a single hard limit.”

  “I’ll try it,” she says in a quieter voice. She’s attempting to be stoic, but I see her lip quivering. She cannot only do this for me. She has to want it.

  Chapter Eight

  Alayna

  “Let me be both your muse and your canvas.”

  Damon took me to Scalini Fedeli in Tribeca. I’ve never been anywhere so lovely or had Italian food that delicious. He claims he made reservations weeks ago to take a colleague to dinner but took me instead.

  Back at his penthouse, I go straight to the windows to look out. It’s late, so I’m enjoying the view of the city lights. I feel his hand splay across my stomach, and it takes me back to Felicia’s wedding.

  After moving my hair a little, his lips are on my neck. They roam up to my ear and circle my lobe. My body warms as the need for him begins to unfurl, and I know it’s only a matter of time before I’m begging him to touch me.

  He takes hold of all my curls and moves them around to drape over my shoulder, but then he freezes. After a few seconds, he turns me around to face him.

  “Why did you let me do that to your neck?”

  “It looks worse than it is. I’m pale and also bruise easily. It’s fine.” I gaze up at him. His eyes are boring into mine, his stare provocative and hungry.

  “But why did you let me?”

  “Because I liked it.”

  “Knowing you enjoy the pain only increases my desire to inflict more of it, but I need you to want it and not only do it for me.” The back of his hand gently glides down my cheek.

  “I know I appear nervous, but it’s only because of the unknown. You give me pleasure like nothing I’ve ever felt before, so I want to keep trying new things.”

  Hands weave into my hair, lips land on mine, and my legs instantly feel like jelly. Damon’s kiss gives out everything his heart and words can’t. He makes love to my mouth, each stroke like a paintbrush of color, each caress arresting and sensuous. His tongue is a master of art, and my mouth is his muse.

  Lips trail to my neck where he gently kisses the wounds with gratitude. My shaky hands glide down his waist until I’m bracing myself with his hips, head falling to the side as his mouth travels to my ear.

  “You have no idea what you do to me when you say things like that,” he whispers as our temples meet and his hand massages my hair.

  “Damon, along with the pleasure you give me, I do want to please you. Let me be both your muse and your canvas,” I say softly.

  He raises up and looks at me. “How do you mean?”

  “Sculpt my body into what you see in your min
d ... into what you desire. Paint me with marks, bruises and bites. Please, Damon, do whatever you crave ... what you need to keep only wanting me.”

  He cups my face, and I see the urgency inside his hooded gaze, like a message he yearns to convey but can’t.

  “Alayna.” My name comes out barely above a whisper in a pleading tone.

  I turn my head and kiss his hand that’s to my cheek. He stares down at me, his heady look only darker, filled with more desperation and lust.

  Slowly, he turns me toward the window, and through the reflection in the glass, I see him towering over me as he begins to unzip my dress.

  He pushes it over my shoulders and down my arms, leaving a shudder in its wake and a puddle of desire between my thighs. Once it hits my waist, he unhooks my black bra in the back, letting it fall to the floor in front of me.

  My nipples are instantly between his fingers. He’s tugging them outward before letting them go. I whimper as they protrude, hardened from arousal and growing more swollen with ever pull.

  “Can I please touch your hair, sir?”

  He pauses and tenses. “Yes.”

  My hands reach over my head and slide into his silky hair. He’s now palming my breasts, and the harder they’re kneaded, the more I tug. My earlobe is soon in his mouth, dragging through his teeth before he’s sinking them into the unmarred side of my neck.

  “You pull, I bite, Alayna.”

  My hands slip through his hair as he quickly squats, yanking my dress to the floor with him.

  “Step out.”

  I do as he says, and I’m now standing in black lace panties, thigh highs with lace around the top, and black high heels.

  Damon’s hands glide up the back of my legs, his fingers so close to the throbbing between my thighs. He grabs my ass cheeks and holds his hands there, rubbing them, eliciting moisture right to the center of my arousal.

  “Baby, your ass looks perfect.” I hear a low rumble from his chest as he walks around and faces me in front of the window. “Take a few steps back, so I can have a better look.”

  “Yes, sir.” I feel vulnerable and anxious yet desired beyond belief as I stand before him.