Author: Susan Elizabeth Phillips
Category: Literature
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“Fifty seconds,” he replied.
She hurried to touch him again, letting her curious fingertips roam along every inch, caressing here and there. She nudged his thighs open a few inches and found more places to touch.
“Twenty seconds,” he groaned.
“Stop counting so fast.”
He chuckled and moaned at the same time, making her smile. But then her smile faded. After all of these years, how was her small body supposed to accommodate something like this? As she closed her hand around him, it occurred to her that her own internal parts could very well have atrophied from lack of use. She moved her hand.
“That’s it!”
Without warning, she found herself flipped to her back with his weight pressing down on her. “I think it’s time you got a little of your own medicine, sweetheart. Assume the position.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hands against the wall.”
She gulped and thought of the whips. Maybe her plan to play the femme fatale had worked too well. He believed her far more experienced than she was.
“Alex?”
“We’re not talking till I see that you know how to follow orders.”
She slowly raised her arms to the pillow.
“I told you to touch the wall.”
She did as she was ordered, and she’d never felt more defenseless or more aroused. As her knuckles brushed the thin paneling behind her she was overcome by an unsettling combination of uneasiness and a deep sensual hunger. She wanted to beg him to be gentle with her. At the same time, she wanted him to love her with all his might.
She lay like a bound captive beneath his gaze. Somehow the fact that there were no true restraints holding her in place didn’t make her position of subjugation any less real. He was so much stronger than she, so much more powerful, that he could do whatever he wished, regardless of whether or not she agreed. A prickle of alarm ruffled the edges of her arousal only to fade as he ran the tip of his finger across her stomach, back and forth over the fishnet until she wanted to scream. He moved lower, touching the patch of curls.
“Open up, sweetheart.”
She did as he said, but apparently he wasn’t satisfied with her effort because he caught her thighs and separated them farther.
The tights were no barrier, and she suddenly felt too open, too vulnerable. She began to moved her hands away from the wall.
“Don’t even think about it,” he whispered, his touch gliding over what she had revealed.
She moaned and lay back to feel him parting her with his thumbs through the moist diamond web. He dipped his head. She cried out, and her fists banged against the wall as he touched her with his mouth, caressed her through the net. A low, strangled sound of pleasure caught in her throat. She felt the net stretched taut across her, its webbing pressing deeply into her softness.
His shoulders splayed her knees and he held her breasts beneath the palms of his hands as he loved her. The rain thrummed on the metal womb that encompassed them both, and her own womb quivered in response to what was happening. As her senses swirled, she felt the vibration of thunder passing through the wall into her hands and traveling down into every nerve of her body. Her back arched, and she gave herself up to him in a shattering climax.
He held her through the aftershocks. Only when she recovered did she become aware of a strange tugging between her legs. She didn’t understand what he had done until he settled over her and she experienced that long awaited stretching at the very entrance to her body.
“You’ve torn a hole in my tights,” she murmured foolishly, slipping her arms around his shoulders and reveling in the feel of his weight pressing her into the mattress.
He brushed his lips over her temples. “I’ll buy you a new pair. I swear.” He gave a gentle push.
And went nowhere.
She stiffened. Her worst fears had been realized. She’d atrophied from so many years of being unused.
He drew back a little and smiled down at her, but she could feel the tension in his body and knew he was on the verge of losing control.
“I thought you were ready, but I guess I haven’t been thorough enough.” He shifted his weight ever so slightly and began caressing her.
Within moments, his voice seemed to come to her from a great distance. “You’re so tight, sweetheart. It’s been a while for you, hasn’t it?”
She sank her nails into his shoulders. “It’s—yes. I might have—” she gasped as new sensations spiraled inside her “—closed up a bit.”
He groaned and repositioned his body. “Then let’s open you back up.” With that, he pressed home.
She cried out and arched to get away from him or to get closer, she didn’t know which. Her body stung from the sweet, aching stretch. He grabbed her bottom and thrust more deeply. At the same time, his mouth covered hers, devouring her. His possession was fierce and strong, but the awful tension she felt in him told her he was still holding back. She didn’t understand why until she heard his barely audible murmur.
“Let go, sweetheart. Let go.”
She knew, then, that he was waiting for her, and those tender words sent her flying over the edge again.
When she came back, his skin was slick under her hands, his body taut with need. But he was a strong and generous lover.
“Once more, sweetheart. Once more.”
“No, I—”
“Yes!” He drove again, deep and sure.
Outside, the thunder rolled, and inside she did as she had been bid. This time, however, he went along.
Time trickled over them as they lay motionless, their bodies entwined, his remaining inside her own.
She would never forget this. Despite the horrible things that had led to this moment, she could not have had a more wonderful introduction to lovemaking, and she would always be grateful to him for this.
She pressed her lips to his chest and stroked him with her palms. After all this time, it had finally happened. “I’m not a virgin any longer.”
She felt his body go rigid beneath her hands. Only then did she realize she had spoken her secret out loud.
11
“What did you say?” Alex reared up over her.
She wanted to bite her tongue. How could she have spoken the words out loud? She had been so drowsy and content that she’d been lulled into stupidity. “N-nothing,” she stammered. “I didn’t say anything.”
“I heard you.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“You said you weren’t a virgin anymore.”
“Did I?”
“Daisy . . .” His voice held an ominous note of warning. “Am I supposed to take that literally?”
She attempted to adopt a tone of moral superiority. “It’s really none of your business.”
“Bullshit.” He vaulted from the bed, grabbed his jeans, and pulled them on as if it were imperative for him to put some kind of barrier between them. He spun back to confront her. “Just what kind of game are you playing?”
She couldn’t help but notice that he hadn’t fastened the zipper, and she had to tear her eyes away from that enticing V that revealed his hard, flat belly. “I don’t want to discuss it.”
“Do you seriously expect me to believe you were a virgin?”
“Of course, I don’t. I’m twenty-six years old.”
He shoved one hand through his hair and began pacing in the small space at the foot of the bed, speaking as if he hadn’t heard her. “You were so tight. I thought maybe it had been a while, but I never figured—how could you have been around all these years and never fucked?”
She shot up high into the pillows. “There isn’t any need for you to use that kind of language, and I want you to apologize to me right now!”
He stared down at her as if she’d lost her mind. She stared right back. If he thought she was going to back down about this, he could think again. She’d heard enough foul language during her twenty-six years with Lani to last a lifetime, and she
wasn’t going to subject herself to any more. “I’m waiting.”
“Answer my question.”
“After you apologize.”
“I’m sorry!” he shouted, losing his famous self-control. “Now you tell me the truth right this minute or I’m going to strangle you to death with those tights, throw your body in a roadside ditch, and dance on top of it!”
As an apology, it didn’t count for much, but she decided it was the best he was going to do. “I’m not a virgin,” she said carefully.
For a moment he looked relieved, and then he regarded her with suspicion. “You’re not a virgin right now, but what about when you walked into this trailer?”
“I might have been then,” she muttered.
“Might have been?”
“All right. Was.”
“I don’t believe it! Nobody who looks like you gets to be twenty-six without ever—”
She shot him a warning glare.
“—without doing it, for god’s sake! Why?”
She toyed with the edge of the sheet “All my life, my mother had a revolving door on her bedroom.”
“What did that have to do with you?”
“Blatant promiscuity isn’t a nice thing to grow up with, and I rebelled.”
“Rebelled?”
“I decided to be the opposite of my mother.”
He sat down at the foot of the bed. “Daisy, taking a lover here and there wouldn’t have made you promiscuous. You’re a passionate woman. You deserved to have a sex life.”
“I wasn’t married.”
“So what?”
“Alex, I don’t believe in sex outside of marriage.”
He regarded her blankly.
“I don’t believe in sex outside of marriage,” she repeated. “Not for women. And not for men either.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not judgmental about it, but that’s the way I feel. If you want to laugh, go ahead.”
“How could anyone in this day and age think that way?”
“I’m illegitimate, Alex, and that sort of thing tends to change your perspective. You probably think I’m a prude, but I can’t help it.”
“After what happened between us tonight, I would hardly call you a prude.” For the first time he smiled. “Where did you learn all those tricks?”
“Tricks?”
“Like that ‘hands against the wall’ stuff, for starters.”
“Oh, that.” She realized she was blushing. “I’ve read a few dirty books.”
“Good for you.”
She frowned, suddenly unsure. “Didn’t you like it? I can take constructive criticism. I want to learn, and you can tell me the truth.”
“I liked it a lot.”
“But maybe it wasn’t inventive enough for you.” She thought about the whips. “To be honest, I don’t think I can get much kinkier. And you should probably know right now that I’m not interested in physical pain.”
For a moment he looked confused, and then he smiled. “You’ve got a real thing about those whips, don’t you?”
“It’s a little hard not to think about them when they’re lying around all the time.”
“I guess I’m having a tough time believing someone who’s so interested in kinky lovemaking has such a narrow view of sexual morality.”
“I didn’t say I was interested; I was just trying to make certain we understand each other. And as to my narrow views—just before Mother died, she had lovers who were younger than me. I really hated that.”
He rose from the foot of the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin from the beginning?”
“Would it have changed anything?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I sure as hell wouldn’t have been so rough.”
Her eyes widened. “You were being rough?”
The hard lines around his mouth eased. He sat down next to her and ran his thumb across her lips. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I have an idea, but you might not like it.”
“Tell me.”
“Could we—I don’t know exactly how long it’ll take you to recover, but, when you have . . .”
“Are you trying to tell me you want to do it again?”
“Yes, please.”
He smiled down at her, but at the same time, he seemed troubled. “All right, sweetheart, I guess anybody who’s waited this long deserves to make up for lost time.”
She parted her lips, eager for his kiss, only to have him pull back the sheet and embarrass her by telling her he wouldn’t go any further until he’d made sure she was all right. Ignoring her protests, he stripped off what remained of her tights and did just that. When he was finally satisfied that he hadn’t harmed her, he began to love her all over again. The rain tap-tap-tapped on the windows, and when they were done, she fell into the first restful sleep she’d known in months.
They had barely gotten under way the next morning before he began to cut her into slivers verbally. And all because she’d let him distract her before she’d had time to explain one small detail.
“I assumed. Assumed! God, what an ass I am. I deserve to be married to you. Why should I have assumed you’d get this right when you haven’t gotten anything else right?”
After the tender magic of last night, his attack was doubly hurtful. When they’d first met, his anger had been cold and quiet, but now a pressure valve seemed to have exploded.
“Couldn’t you have finished explaining?” he raved. “No, of course not. That would have been too logical.”
She blinked her eyes hard and hated herself with all her might for not being the kind of person who could scream right back at him.
“When you said you were taking birth control pills, you needed to finish the story, Daisy. You needed to tell me you’d just started to take them, that you hadn’t been on them for a full month yet, that there’s still a chance I could get you goddamn pregnant! Couldn’t you have finished the story, Daisy?”
She dug her fingernails into her palms to keep from crying. At the same time she cursed herself for letting him get to her like this.
“Answer me right now!”
The lump in her throat had grown so large she had to choke the words out “I—I was o-overcome by p-passion.”
Some of the tension seemed to leave his body. He eased up on the accelerator, looked over at her, and scowled. “Are you crying?”
She lifted her chin and shook her head, even as a tear skidded down her cheek. She’d couldn’t stand the idea of crying in front of him again. She’d always hated her easy tears.
He slowed and his voice gentled. “Daisy, I’m sorry.” He glanced into his side mirror and began to pull off the road.
“Don’t you dare stop this truck!” she said fiercely.
The tires kicked up gravel as he brought the rig to a stop, ignoring her wishes as usual. He reached out for her, but she drew away.
“I’m not a wimp!” She lashed out at him and angrily dashed away her tears with her fingers.
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You’re thinking it! I just cry easily. But it doesn’t mean anything, and I’m not trying to manipulate you with tears. I want you to apologize because you’re acting like a jerk, not because I’m crying and it’s made you feel guilty.”
“I’m definitely acting like a jerk.”
“Because I can’t help crying. I’ve always been emotional. Newborn babies, long-distance telephone commercials, a good country-western song. I see something or hear something and the next thing I know—”
“Daisy, I’m trying to apologize. You can go ahead and cry if you want, but just don’t talk, okay?”
She sniffed and reached into her purse for a tissue. “Okay.”
“I had no right to yell at you like that. I was mad at myself, and I took it out on you. I was the one who cut you off last night before you’d had time to explain. It’s my fault. I’ve never been this irresponsible before, and I can’t explain it
. I guess I just . . .” He hesitated.
She wiped her nose. “Got swept away by passion?”
He smiled. “I suppose that’s as good a reason as any. But, Daisy, if you’re pregnant because of my stupidity . . .”
The dread she heard in his voice made her want to start crying all over again. Instead, she gave her nose a businesslike blow. “I’m sure I won’t be. It’s not the right time. My period is supposed to start in a couple of days.”
She could almost see his relief and that hurt her even more. Not that she wanted to be pregnant, because she didn’t. But neither did she like it that the mere idea repelled him.
He plowed his fingers through his hair. “I get a little crazy when this subject comes up, but I can’t help it. I don’t want to have children, Daisy.”
“There isn’t any need to worry. Amelia sent me to her own doctor a couple of weeks ago.”
“That’s good. I can’t begin to explain how strongly I feel about this. When I say I don’t want to have children, I mean I don’t ever want to have them. I’d make a terrible father, and no child deserves that. Promise me that you won’t get forgetful with those pills.”
“I wouldn’t do that. And, frankly, Alex, I’m getting a little tired of being treated as if I’m incompetent.”
He checked his side mirror and pulled back out onto the highway. “I’ll use condoms until next month when you’re safe.”
She didn’t like the way he took it for granted that she would continue sleeping with him. “I’m not sure there’s going to be any need.”
He glanced over at her. “What do you mean?”
“You’re acting as if what happened last night is going to happen again.”
“Trust me. It’s going to happen again.”
His smugness offended her. “I wouldn’t be too certain of that.”
“Don’t try to pretend you didn’t enjoy yourself. I was there, remember?”
“I’m not pretending anything. It was wonderful. One of the most wonderful things that’s ever happened to me. I’m simply telling you that your attitude toward lovemaking leaves a lot to be desired.”