Unexpected Angel (20 page)

Saying I woke up this morning would imply that I was able to fall asleep last night, which is not the case. Every time I
closed my eyes, my mind tried to fit together the pieces of the puzzle.

I can’t bring myself to get out of bed. Once I talk to Tasha, there’s no guarantee she’ll want to stay here with me. If she knows what has been going on, I expect her to lump me into that same abusive category. If she doesn’t, there’s no way she will believe what I’m going to reveal.

She nuzzles her face against my chest, smiling in her sleep. I brush the hair out of her eyes and watch her, giving her these last minutes of peace before she wakes up.

“Good morning,” she mumbles, planting a series of wet kisses along my side. I shift beneath the blanket, wanting an encore of last night before we face the day. If there’s a chance she’ll leave, I want to be selfish and take that memento with me.

“Hey, beautiful. Did you sleep well?”

Tasha is everything I swore I never wanted. She gets me to do things that used to seem like torture, like lying in bed, waking slowly wrapped in each other’s arms.

“Mmm, I did,” she sighs, lifting her arms over her head to stretch. I can’t resist the way her breasts thrust toward me and lean over to take one in my mouth. She tastes amazing.

“Are you ready to get up?” I ask, hoping her answer matches my own. No way do I want to leave the bed. It’s Saturday, I have nowhere to be until late this
evening, and there’s a drop-dead sexy naked woman lying next to me. Why would I leave this sanctuary?

She shakes her head, smiling against my lips. I feel her hand traveling down my body until she wraps those delicate fingers around my fully erect cock.
Her grip is tender and loving. There’s no rushing as her hand twists over the engorged tip, collecting the drops of pre-come to lubricate my shaft. My hips jerk, needing more from her but she refuses to give it to me. She’ll pay for it later, but for now I allow her to give me a taste of the torture I’ve put her through on more than one occasion.

(Tasha)

Dylan’s hands move up my thighs and over my hips, carefully avoiding getting near my pussy. I roll so my chest is resting against his as I continue stroking his cock.

“A girl could get used to waking up like this,” I sigh. His hands rub up and down my back, softly caressing my backside.

“It’s definitely a great way to start the morning,” he agrees. His hands reach between my legs, drawing my juices through my folds. “Someday, I’m going to push you again, angel. Eventually, I want to claim every part of your body as mine.”

I tense as I feel his finger move towards the forbidden area I never want any man to go. I don’t care how good some people swear anal play can be; I don’t see the allure.

“Not today,” he promises me, pulling my body up his so my face
lines up with his. There’s no hurrying this morning as we savor each other’s touch and draw out every languid kiss.

“Dylan…” I start, needing him to make love to me this morning. He slides out from under me, seeming to know what I was going
to say. I grab the condom packet out of his hands and straddle his hips. This morning, I want to be the one to take care of him.

After opening the packet, I reach for his cock, bending over to take a taste before slowly rolling the thin latex over his length.
My hips grind against him, lubricating him with myself as I lean over to kiss him. “Is this okay?” I ask, realizing that, despite my protests, I do view him as being the one in control. And that’s okay with me.

“Baby, the only thing that could make it more okay is if you get on with it,” he laughs, reaching up to massage my breasts as I position myself over him. Slowly, I lower my body, accepting his cock until I’m full. He’s long enough and wide enough that I feel pressure everywhere inside, but it’s not painful. It’s amazing.

Dylan’s still sleeping beside me when I wake up for the second time. As much as I would love to stay wrapped in his thick, tattooed arms all day, I need something to eat.

I slide out of the bed carefully so I don’t wake him and find his button-down in a crumpled mess on the floor. I put it on, inhaling the combination of his spicy cologne and sweat. I pad down the hallway to the kitchen, wanting to surprise him with breakfast in bed. Or is it lunch since it’s so late in the day?

Strong hands latch onto my hips as I flip French toast in the pan. I turn in his arms and he greets me with a deep kiss.

“Good morning
, sleepy,” I laugh. I look at the plate beside me and realize that, in my post-coital daze, I’ve cooked up nearly an entire loaf of bread. “I hope you’re hungry. Otherwise, we’ll have to call Zeke up to eat some of this.”

“Not a chance in hell,” Dylan says firmly. “He doesn’t get to see you dressed like that. And I intend for you to wear that or nothing for the rest of the weekend.”

“Is that a request or an order?” I tease. Since talking with Zeke, the thought of handing over some of the control to Dylan doesn’t send me into a panic. As long as what he told me is true, I trust Dylan to push me only as far as I’m willing.

“Which would you like it to be?” He asks in a low, sultry voice. If I was wearing panties, I’m sure they’d be moist at the way he utters those six words in my ear.

After turning off the stove, I spin around in his embrace so we’re facing one another. “A request works just fine, but I wouldn’t be upset if you said it was a demand.”

The look on his face is priceless. It’s morphing from shock to jubilation to reverence.
The look of adoration burns a permanent place in my memory as he leans down to claim my mouth.

“Only if you’re sure,
Precious,” he whispers in my ear, gently nipping at the lobe and down to my collarbone. I nod and he momentarily lifting me off the ground, squeezing me in a tight embrace. I would tell him I can’t breathe, but it feels too good being wrapped up in him like this.

He grabs the food while I grab plates and follow him to the dining room. I see that the sandwiches from last night are still sitting there and move them down to the other end of the table to take care of later. Right now, I want to enjoy my first breakfast with my man. If he gets to claim me as his, you better believe I’m doing the same by claiming his sculpted ass. Honestly, I can’t think of a better ass, or a better man, to have as my own.

“After we’re through here, I have to go down and talk to Zeke for a bit,” he informs me between bites of food. It seems I’m not the only one who worked up an appetite last night.

“And what would you suggest I do while you’re down there?” I try
not to sound like a petulant girl but I don’t want him to leave. I was hoping we would eat and then retire to the bedroom until sometime early Monday morning.

“Precious, are you getting cocky with me?”

“No,” I say with a mischievous smile on my face. “I believe cocky is all you.” I reach under the table, running my hand along his semi-erect cock.

He reaches down and grabs onto just the tips of my fingers. “You’re playing with fire,” he warns me, causing me to squirm in my seat. “He and I have some things we need to discuss. After that, I promise I’ll come back up and be as cocky as you would like.”

I smile at him as I stand, allowing the hem of his shirt to ride high on my thighs as I lean over to clear the dishes.

“It’s a good thing I know you
’re a man of your word,” I say, letting my backside rub against his forearm as I turn to leave the room.

(Dylan)

Tasha is shuffling through a stack of papers splayed out on the coffee table. Today’s the first time I’ve seen her wearing a pair of smart wire-rimmed glasses and she has her hair piled on top of her head in a loose ponytail. The way she looks today reminds of the football game we went to. She doesn’t look as tired as she has for the past few weeks. It might be a bit much, but I can’t help but think that being here with me has been good for both of us.

She opens up to me a little more every day. When we met, I thought I was going to have to turn my back completely on anything other than vanilla sex if I wanted anything to happen between the two of us, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.

It’s comical watching her reaction whenever I bring up trying something I’m sure she will find twisted and taboo. Just to test her, I brought up knife play one night last week over dinner. It’s something that I’ve never done and have no interest
in trying, but it was the most extreme thing I could think of and I needed to know that she was an active participant in our play, not an insecure woman trying to please her man.

I place a decorative dagger on the table between us. I know that it has no edge, but she doesn’t.

“What would you say if I told you I want you to feel this cold steel against your soft body tonight?” I ask, trying to keep my tone even and forceful.

She stops chewing and stares at the blade. I know what she will tell me if she’s being honest, but the past few nights I’ve worried that she’s acquiescing to what she thinks I want to do.

“I’d say you’ve lost your mind,” she says softly before grinning at me. She knows this was a test and she passed.

“Good girl.” I reach for her, pulling her body to mine. Rather than stand beside me, she straddles my legs, he knees bent enough that I can feel her heat through the lace panties I told her
to wear this evening. “Precious, are you taunting me at the dinner table again?”

“Maybe,” she says coyly.

I don’t protest when she reaches between our bodies, releasing the button on my slacks. Her hand lingers over my cock before she lowers the zipper, allowing my length to spring from its confines.

“You know what I do to you when you disobey me, right, Precious?” My hand rubs over the swell of her tight ass, preparing it for the spanking she’s working hard to earn.

“Yes, Mister Caprese,” she assures me. I’m the one who asked her to call me that. The way I nearly came in my pants the first time she called Mister Caprese, albeit sarcastically, I knew I wanted to hear her scream that name as I drove her over the edge.

“Are you through eating?” I wrap my arms around her and stand, carrying her to the bedroom.

“What’s wrong with you,” Tasha laughs, bringing me back to reality. Like every other day, I stare at her, trying to figure out how I’m going to turn her world inside out.

If she’s telling me the truth, and I believe she is, when she says Nick Romero didn’t hit her, she’s the lucky one. Is it possible to live with someone for so many years and have no clue who you’re sharing a bed with? It’s illogical, but I have no doubt she was in the dark.

“The glasses are a good look for you,” I say, wondering if I can somehow bring us around to the conversation I’ve been avoiding. “
Kinda gives you a naughty co-ed look.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s because I’m sitting here in a t-shirt and panties more than the glasses.” She pulls herself up on her knees, wiggling that ass as she reaches for another stack of papers.

“You keep doing things like that and you’ll never get your report done,” I warn her. I adjust myself on the couch, trying to think of anything that will stave off the growth forming in my sweatpants.

“Is that a fact, Mister
Caprese?” She asks in a cocky tone. She doesn’t realize it, but she’s everything I ever hoped for in a sub. She’s submissive without being a doormat. She’s flirtatious, right up until she knows she’s crossed the line and then she’s quiet. And we both love it when she toes her way across the line.

“Get back to work,” I scold her with a sharp tap on her right ass cheek. I know I’ve smacked
her just hard enough that she’ll feel a delicious sting when she sits back down. “New rule. You cannot tease me until you have that file ready to go. If you do, there will be no fun tonight.”

Her head whips around, her jaw slack. Fuck, I’d love to fill that pretty mouth with my cock. “You wouldn’t,” she protests.

“Oh, but I would. Care to test me?” I laugh and she turns around in a huff.

(Tasha)

I wish there was a way I could work from home every day. Transmission analysis isn’t nearly as boring when I am able to get Dylan all hot and bothered. He talks a good game, but I highly doubt he would be able to deny me if it came down to it.

More than anything, I want to grip the hem of my shirt and lift it over my head to give him a better view. He claims to be an ass man, and I believe he does appreciate my ass, but my breasts are his kryptonite.

The only thing stopping me is I can’t go to work tomorrow morning without this file ready for approval and I’ve let him distract me far too much this weekend.

He doesn’t lay me back on the center of the bed like normal. This time, he sets me on the edge of the bed and walks away. The look in his dark eyes tells me he’s about to push my limits yet again.

“Strip,” he orders me as he walks to the closet. It’s different when he’s like this and across the room. When he’s forceful and near, I can feel the care in his touch, see it in the way he looks at me as if I’m the only person in his world.

I do as he says, which doesn’t take long. One of the first rules Dylan implemented after the night I gave myself to him is I’m not allowed to wear pants when we’re at home unless someone is coming over. When I challenged him, he asked me if I would prefer him to have me naked and at his disposal. As lovely as the last half sounded, there’s no way I could walk around naked. I’m still not comfortable even sleeping in the nude, although he assures me I will get used to it.

I sit back on the bed, hands folded neatly on my lap, waiting for the next command. “On your knees, angel,” he says in the voice he never uses outside of this room. Its low timbre resonates through my body, awakening my core.

My hands hang at my sides, unwilling to give any indication that I might like him to restrain me. He hasn’t mentioned it since the night he introduced me to some simple rope work, but I know from the way he talked about ropes as he walked me through the steps that it’s something he enjoys. I’ve been researching shibari and I’ve decided that I’m not as opposed as I once was. As long as Dylan is the one I’m with, I know I can overcome my fears and my past.

Staring straight ahead as he always instructs me to, I feel the edge of the bed dip. His knees bump against my calves as he positions himself. Sex with Dylan isn’t an activity
; it’s an event. A well-choreographed scene in which he always leaves me begging for more.

I feel his strong biceps against my arms and I have to resist the urge to reach for him. Touching Dylan is the one thing
he does not allow me to do nearly often enough for my tastes. I’m tempted to defy him, simply to feel the sting of his hand on my bare backside. Who would have thought I would love a good spanking as much as I do when it’s at his hand? Not me, that’s for sure.

When the slippery cloth grazes against my thighs, I look down without moving my head. He’s holding a length of black satin, slowly teasing me, dragging it up my thigh and across my bare mound.

“You disobeyed me, Angel,” he says firmly. “If you can’t look ahead, you won’t be allowed to see what I’m going to do to you.”

As he brings the satin to my face, I can smell myself on the material. I take in a deep breath and close my eyes, steeling myself for another new encounter. He knots the scarf behind my head and the world is black. I open my eyes, testing to see if there’s any light and it’s only blackness.

A jolt of cold hits me between the shoulder blades when he leans back. I want to feel him pressed against me. I need his body molded to mine.

A series of soft strips land on my shoulder. Although I can’t see what’s in his hands, I am confident he’s holding a flogger.
This is the first time he’s used anything other than his hand on me and my heart rate quickens anxiously. I don’t know if I’m ready to feel the bite against my skin.

“Relax, Angel,” he whispers in my ear. “Do you want pleasure or pain tonight?”

I’m not sure what answer he’s looking for, so I don’t respond. His hand landing on my butt lets me know that was the wrong decision, but the throbbing in my pussy wants that feeling again. I’m not at a place where I can tell him I enjoy the pain, but lord help me, I do.

“Last chance, pleasure or pain.”

“Now who’s the dreamer?” Dylan chuckles. The tips of his fingers brush along the nape of my neck and I know I’m going to have a late night finishing this report.

“Guilty,” I sigh. No point denying it. When you’re able to have such steamy dreams and base them all on memories, it’s hard not to think about it. “I know how you could get me to stop,” I giggle. Yep, I actually giggle when I’m around Dylan. He swears it’s cute, so I don’t try to stop myself.

“I told you the rules, Precious. I’m going to go down to Zeke’s so you can concentrate.” My shoulders slump, feeling defeated. I know I won’t change his mind on this. “Call me when you’re done and we’ll go to dinner.”

I watch him as he disappears into the bedroom, resisting the urge to follow him. It’s not long before he’s walking to the front door, looking utterly edible in tight faded jeans and a t-shirt that has to be a size too small. My focus returns to my transmissions and I double my efforts to get through the stack.