Page 3 of Omega
“Corgis are okay. Not sure about the Colonial, though. I’m thinking I can maybe do a bit better than a two-story house, for one thing.”
I noticed he was leaving something out, and I didn’t push it. Now I didn’t know why I even started this conversation. “Yeah, you’re right. A mansion in the Hamptons is more our style, I think.”
“The Hamptons? I think not, sweetheart. Too cliché, too overpopulated. Something down in the Caribbean, maybe. I’ve already got a property there and there are still a few islands for sale up there. They could be purchased quite easily. How does that sound?”
I laughed. “There’s my Valentine. You don’t do anything small, do you?”
“Never. Besides, do you know how impossible it would be to provide proper security for one of those shacks in the Hamptons? It would be very difficult. ‘Logistically impossible’, I think Harris would say. An island can be protected much more easily. And, besides, if we’ve got an entire island to ourselves, I can make you scream as loud as you want without disturbing neighbors.” He said this last partsotto voce, in my ear, fingers skating down my ribs to then trace up and down my thigh.
“We wouldn’t want to disturb neighbors, would we?”
“Keeping you quiet these last few months has been…an entertaining challenge. Let me just put it this way. I’m ready for some privacy.”
“I’ve been quiet!” I protested.
“Ha. If my hand is over your mouth, maybe. Perhaps I should look into getting a ball-gag for you.”
I twisted so I could glare up at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would. Absolutely I would. You’d enjoy it, too, I think. Some fuzzy handcuffs, a gag, and I could play with you for hours and Layla and Harris would never know.”
“You like it when I scream, and you know it.” I was getting hot and wet from this turn in the conversation.
“I do. But your screams are just for me.” And then, just like that, the fly of my jeans was open and his fingers delved under the elastic of my panties and he was searching, flicking, swiping, finding my slit and spearing his middle finger into me. “You’re soaked for me, Kyrie.”
“Trying to make me scream, right here on the deck?”
“Uh-huh. Is it working?” He adjusted me, and now my mouth was crushed to his.
“Nope. Not yet.”
He had two fingers in me now. I writhed helplessly as he scissored his fingers inside, and then whimpered in the back of my throat as he pressed a big rough thumb to my clit. Circle, circle. And then he slid his fingers out and smeared my wetness over my clit, his thumb resuming its lazy circles, and I was a mess, biting my lip, my forehead pressed against his, my chest heaving.
And then, abruptly, he stood up, depositing me on my feet. Buttoning my jeans, he gave me a twist and sent me stumbling toward the stairs leading to our quarters. “Go get naked, my love. Wait for me. I’ll only be a moment.”
My thighs rubbed together as I made my way to our bedroom, the buzz of my jeans brushing together sending delicious vibrations through my core. I was on the edge, mere moments from coming. Frustrated, I hurried up the stairs as fast as I could. I stripped in record time, peeling off my sweater and shirt, unfastening my bra, tossing the clothes aside, and then hopping out of my jeans. I still couldn’t put all my weight on my knee for very long, but that wouldn’t stop me from stretching out on the bed in my panties.
He’d said naked, but it’s fun to disobey him.
True to his word, I heard him on the stairs a minute later. He already had his black T-shirt off, balling it in his fist and tossing it aside, then stepping out of his khakis as he made the top step. He crossed the room in just his underwear, tight black Polo briefs that outlined his huge cock and cupped his buttocks.
“I said naked, babe.”
“You aren’t,” I pointed out.
He peeled his underwear off and stalked over to me, then got on the bed and crawled toward me on his hands and knees. “I am now, but you’re still not naked.”
“What are you going to do about it, Valentine?”
He grabbed my ankles and hauled me over to him. I let him pull me so my thighs spread around his trim waist, and then I hooked my ankles behind his back, reaching for him at the same time. But instead of taking my hands in his like I’d thought he would, he gripped both of my wrists in one hand, using the other at my hip to roll me onto my stomach. One hand still gripping my wrists in an implacable but gentle hold, he lifted me by the stomach until my knees were under me and my ass was in the air, presented to him.
He tugged my underwear down around my thighs, but left them there.
Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.
His hand smoothed over my left ass cheek, and then my right.
SMACK!His hand cracked against my buttock, stinging it, causing it to tremble, and I fought to keep from flinching or crying out.SMACK!The right side now.