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Fingers plucked at my nipples, pinched and twisted, reminding me of the clamps he’d put on me in our last session. The jolts of pain mixed with everything else, and I found myself heading for the tipping point.
“That’s it,” Derrick said. “Come on my cock, babe. Come with my cock in your ass. Squeeze my dick–”
I woke with a hard moan, slick and wet between my thighs and aching in my chest. Heart pounding, I looked around, the dream still vibrant in my mind. Vibrant because it wasn’t just a dream, rather a combination of memories of the times Derrick and I had gone back to his BDSM club. Which meant I knew exactly how everything felt, from the sting of the flogger to the burn of his cock entering my ass for the first time. And now I was left with the memories of all of the times I’d come, the ecstasy he’d made me feel, except without the satisfaction.
It took a moment to realize that I’d fallen asleep on the couch and several more moments for the hot color to fade from my cheeks. Taking my wine, I finished it off and put the glass in the sink, then went to bed.
As I cuddled into my cold, empty bed, my pussy throbbed with my interrupted release. Being with Derrick these last few months had left me with a libido accustomed to being satiated and now, I was restless, uncomfortable.
Shit.
Need pulsing inside me, I rolled onto my back and slid my hand under my pajama pants and between my thighs. I was swollen and hot, my folds wet and when I stroked my clit, it was so sensitive, it almost hurt.
Moaning, I closed my eyes and tried to immerse myself back in the dream, in those memories.
Derrick fucking my ass from behind, his hands gripping my hips, hard and firm. His breathing rough, his thick cock stretching me, and his voice gruff and low as he moaned my name.
“Fuck.” My back arched.
Stroking my clitoris faster, I imagined it was him. In my mind, he had his hand in my hair, the other tugging my nipple as he rode me, deep and rough, palm lifting only to come down and spank me.
He told me that I was his and I almost believed it. I desperately wanted to believe it was true. That he was mine and I was his. And not just for one year, but forever.
Tears burned my eyes because dammit, Imissedhim.
I hadn’t wanted to stop the wedding. I hadn’t wanted to leave him.
“Derrick…” My climax hit me hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.
And my heart felt like it was breaking all over again.
THIRTY-NINE
JESSICA
If anyone had toldme a week ago that I’d be planning to spend this Friday night at a club with Amelia, Jami, and Bristol to celebrate a huge business success, I’d have told them they were nuts. But here I was, dressed in a sexy little black dress, sitting at a table at my favorite nightclub, with my three friends, toasting to our new – and better – book distribution deal.
“I have to admit, I’m glad we didn’t end up having to work with Frank Fellows,” Amelia said after taking another large gulp of her French Martini. “He’s friends with my father and I’ve always thought he was…well, sleazy. The kind of guy who’d check out high school cheerleaders and act like it was no big deal.”
“Yeah, he creeped me out,” I agreed. “I just never thought Rand would want to work with us.” Realizing how it sounded, I immediately added, “Not because your book isn’t amazing, Bristol. Just because it was the first book from an independent publisher who nobody knows.”
Bristol laughed, her cheeks pink with excitement and alcohol. Her green eyes sparkled as she waved off my concern. “I know what you meant. No offense taken.”
“I’d still like to know how Kate Jorgen found out I was publishing your book,” I said, taking a sip of my mojito.
“Me too,” Jami said. “I hadn’t realized word had spread that far and fast in the publishing world.”
It wasn’t until I turned to Amelia to ask her a question that I realized she was looking at Jami and I with a strange expression on her face.
“You haven’t figured it out?” Amelia set her glass down. “Jess, you know which publishers Rand distributes for, right?”
I nodded. “A few of them, why?”
“Including Broker.”
“Yeah?”
She said it like I should know what that meant. Maybe it was the alcohol or just the result of having an insanely stressful couple of weeks, but I had no idea what she was trying to insinuate.