Marie Harte - Working Out

She caught her breath. “Spell it out. What exactly do you want me to do with you?”

“Everything I want, exactly the way I want it.” He tilted her chin up so that he could look straight into her eyes. “I want to play games with you. Ones where we need a safeword. Where you call me Sir and you obey me.” He kissed her again, and she felt her robe begin to open. Then his hands were inside, stroking her heated flesh. “I want to own your body in bed. Would you be willing to let me do that?”

“All this for some roses?” she replied while trying to make sense of her dreams suddenly meshing with reality.

He chuckled. “Nah. The roses were to show you I was thinking of you.” He cupped her breasts, and his eyes darkened. “But this is way more than I’d planned on asking for.” He fully parted her robe and stared down at her. Slowly, he bent his head and took a flushed, pert nipple in his mouth.

He sucked hard, and her knees buckled. She moaned and hung on to him for dear life.

Mac turned his attention to her other breast and teased and nipped until she teetered on an orgasm. She’d never been so sensitive before, but moisture coated the insides of her thighs.

“Yeah. This is what I want. You helpless in my arms.” He kissed her, his tongue penetrating while his hands moved down to cage her waist. “Maggie… fuck . I wanted to wait, but no more. I want you, but I’ll go easy with my demands.” He gripped her tight and kissed her again. “What do you think?”

She stared up at him when he pulled away. Her robe hung open, but he looked only at her eyes.

“I think… I think we should go back to my bedroom.” She tugged him with her, sure only that the time had come to finally have Mac Jameson. Tomorrow could take care of itself. Tonight belonged to her.

Maggie drew him into her bedroom and stood, uncaring about her near nudity.

Mac’s gaze wandered from her head to her toes and lingered in between. “You are fucking gorgeous.”

She flushed, pleased and embarrassed with the praise. She’d always had a nice figure and attractive face, but her workouts had toned her body into an especially tight form.

“So you’re good with doing things my way?” he ventured when he met her gaze again. “I’m not kidding around. I don’t want to hurt you or anything, but I’d like to see if we fit the way I’d imagined.”

He’d thought about her. Fantasized about her. She wondered if they had the same kinds of needs. “This isn’t a joke, is it?”

His gaze softened. “No, honey. I want you, but I’m not an easy lover. I could pretend I like it simple, the way I normally do. But it’s not enough, and lately, I need something more. I like to be in control, to take and demand. But I need to know if you can handle that. If you can’t, it’s okay.” But she could sense the disappointment waiting behind her potential refusal. “I still want you. I just thought this might be something we’d both enjoy.”

“Why would you think that?”

“You like me bossing you around. I’ve seen the way you react.”

“H-how?”

“Your nipples get hard. You flush, those cheeks turning a pretty pink. And your pupils get bigger—all signs of arousal. You want to be mussed and controlled, don’t you, Maggie?”

She did. And now he knew. She let out a breath. “What do you want me to do?”

He didn’t smile or nod. He lost the easiness of expression and growled, “Take off your robe.”

She shrugged out of it, and it pooled to the floor. Mac remained in his coat, completely dressed. The disparity wasn’t lost on her. He wanted control, and God, she wanted to give it to him. Vulnerable and naked, she looked even smaller next to his powerful body.

“Now come and take off my jacket.” He waited.

She swallowed and approached, feeling timid yet powerful at the same time. So strange.

She unzipped his coat, and the sound was overly loud in the quiet room. He watched her while she undressed him. She put the jacket on the chair next to her bed and waited.

Mac kissed her, so suddenly and with so much feeling she could barely hold on. She gripped his arms and held tight while he plundered her mouth. Against her, his clothing scratched. His body had no give, his mouth no regret.

He pulled back and looked at her with a mean smile. “This is going to take a while. You don’t have anywhere to go tomorrow, do you?”

“No,” she said between pants. “My day off.”

“Good.” He kissed his way to her breasts before looking back at her, and she saw a new side to Mac she hadn’t seen before. A sexually controlling master.

She shivered.

“Cold?” he asked.

“N-no.”

“Wet?” He didn’t let her answer but pushed a finger between her folds and into her. “I guess I’m not the only one wanting this.”

Dear Lord. “I never said you were.”

“ Sir. I never said you were, Sir.”

She bit her lip and moaned, “Sir.”

“That’s nice.” He sighed and kissed her until she wanted to melt all over him. “Take off my shirt. I want your hands on my skin and your mouth on my nipples.”

She liked him telling her what to do. Even better, she liked following his orders. He ground his pelvis against her and drew her attention to the raging erection beneath the denim.

Mac wanted her, no question.

Maggie drew his shirt off and placed it next to his jacket. She couldn’t look away from his chest, those huge biceps and corded forearms. The man was seriously built, enough that it would be easy for him to hold her down and do whatever he wanted to her.

“What’s that look?” he asked.

“You’re so strong,” she whispered. “So much bigger than me.”

“Sir,” he added, teasing.

“Sir.” She kissed his chest, past the smattering of hair to the coppery disks of his nipples. She traced his muscles with her hands, loving the feel of his straining pectorals and ripped abdomen honed by hundreds of sit-ups and countless workouts at the gym. She drew on his nipples and kissed and licked, wanting to make him as crazy as she felt, until he yanked her back by her hair. The small bite of pain intrigued her, because she’d never thought she’d be into hurting at all.

The experience felt unreal, the way she’d imagined it so many times. It was like she’d conjured him out of her darkest fantasies.

He was no longer Mac, she no longer Maggie. Instead, Sir and his submissive played their fun and games. She moaned, losing herself in the woman she’d always wanted to be.

“I said let go,” he growled.

She hadn’t heard him. “Sorry, Sir. I didn’t hear you.”

“Being bad already? I think we need that safeword.”

Maggie nodded, unable to look away from him. Punishment? She’d dreamed about that since she’d first read it in a novel. Spankings, pinches, maybe even a little biting. She’d never tried the kinkier stuff with any of her lovers, but she’d imagined doing it. So many times.

“Pick a word, Maggie.” Mac pulled her closer by her hair, tilting her chin back to expose her neck. He sucked at her pulse and nibbled his way to her cheek. The small bites stung and made her wetter.

“Strawberry,” she whispered. “That’s my safeword.”

“Good. You say that if you feel like we need to stop. I’ll respect that boundary.” He stared into her eyes. “I’m not bullshitting about that. You say no , I’ll keep going. Stop, wait, those don’t mean anything. The minute you say strawberry , I’ll cease, no question. Say it for me.”

“Strawberry.”

“And don’t be afraid to say it. I don’t think you’ll need it tonight, but I want to be safe.” He paused. “And speaking of safe… You on birth control?”