Miranda Lee

It Started With... Collection


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known. And I know you want me. Please don’t keep finding excuses to push me away.’

      Jessie knew he was a good talker. A clever persuader. But there was a sincerity in his voice and his eyes that touched her. Surely, he had to be telling the truth.

      ‘You really haven’t been with anyone else?’ she asked.

      ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’

      ‘I wouldn’t want you to die, Kane,’ she murmured, stepping forward and snaking her arms up around his neck. ‘I want you very much alive.’

      He groaned, his mouth crashing down to take hers in a kiss of mind-blowing hunger. Their tongues met, danced, demanded. Their bodies pressed closer, and closer. Their hips jammed together, then ground against each other.

      ‘No, no, not that again,’ he gasped as his mouth burst free from hers. ‘I haven’t waited the last three days for that.’

      Her head was spinning but she concurred wholeheartedly. That was not what she wanted, either. She wanted him naked, and inside her. She wanted it all.

      She reached round behind her back to untie the bow.

      ‘No,’ he said swiftly. ‘Let me…’

      Kane started undressing her as no man had ever done in her life. So slowly and sensually, his eyes smouldering with desire, his hands not quite steady. First to be disposed of was her skirt, leaving her standing there before him with nothing below her hips but that skimpy G-string.

      ‘Arms up,’ he ordered, then he took her top by its hem and began to peel it upwards over her head.

      The action covered her eyes for a second or two, Jessie quivering in her momentary darkness, turned on by the thought of how she must look with her arms up, her face masked, but her body being more and more exposed to his gaze. She’d never thrilled to a sex-slave fantasy before but she did so now, imagining herself having been bought by him, being a helpless prisoner to his passion, with no other purpose than to be an instrument of pleasure.

      Not her own.

      Suddenly, her own pleasure seemed irrelevant. This was all for him. Her lord and master. Her soon-to-be lover.

      Even when her top was thrown away, she kept her eyes shut, enjoying the sensation of being outside herself, looking in on what was happening with her mind. She heard him gasp. In admiration, she hoped.

      And then his hands were on her again, still soft, but just as knowing. He took her G-string off first, which surprised her. She wobbled a bit when he picked up first one foot and then the other. She stiffened expectantly when he straightened, sucking in sharply when one of his hands stroked over her belly. Her eyes squeezed even more tightly together when it drifted lower, a startled gasp torn from her throat when both his hands slid between her thighs. But he didn’t touch her there, just eased her legs apart.

      ‘Yes, like that,’ she heard him say.

      And then his hands were gone, only to be felt again on her bra clasp. When it gave way and her breasts were finally naked before his eyes, she felt no embarrassment, only the most all-consuming craving to have them touched.

      But he didn’t touch them.

      ‘Open your eyes,’ he told her forcefully.

      Of course she obeyed. How could she not? It was the voice of the master.

      Opening her eyes, however, brought a wave of dizziness.

      ‘Watch it,’ he said, and grabbed her shoulders to steady her swaying body.

      Once she was still, his hands moved up to dispose of the scrunchie, letting her hair tumble in wild disarray around her shoulders.

      She had never been so turned on, or so compliant.

      ‘I want you to just stand there like that,’ he murmured, ‘whilst I get undressed.’

      Of course, she thought. What else would I do?

      He stripped off his own clothes much faster than he had hers. And he took off everything, displaying the kind of body she’d imagined him to have. Muscly and hard, with not too much body hair, a broad chest and a six-pack stomach.

      Jessie tried not to stare when he collected a condom from the bedside chest and drew it on.

      But she did lick her very dry bottom lip.

      ‘No, not that either,’ he snapped, misinterpreting her action. ‘Not yet. Later.’

      Whatever you want, she almost said. Whenever you want it.

      He walked around her a couple of times, just looking at her, standing there in nothing but her high heels. Only when she was at screaming point did he touch her, coming up close from behind, pushing her hair away from one shoulder and bending his head to kiss her neck, softly at first, then more hungrily.

      The wild beast swiftly emerged again, and soon he was sucking on her throat whilst his hands ran roughly up and down her arms. Her back automatically arched against him, the action lifting her breasts in wanton invitation. This time he obliged, cupping them in his hands and squeezing them together whilst his thumbpads rubbed rather cruelly over the already stiffened nipples.

      Sensations shot through her like a series of lightning bolts, sizzling with electricity, leaving her burning with a fire which she knew could only be erased one way.

      His mouth covered her ear, hot and heavy with his breathing.

      ‘Don’t close your legs,’ he commanded on a raw whisper.

      And then he took her hands in his and stretched them out in front of her, bending her forward till her fingers reached the nearest brass bedpost.

      ‘Hold on to that,’ he advised.

      Very good advice. Because she might have fallen otherwise. Or fainted.

      No man had ever made love to her like this before, in this position. Jessie’s head whirled. But there was little time to think before he was inside her, holding her hips captive whilst he ground into her body.

      She had never experienced anything so decadent before. But it felt so delicious this way. Wild and wicked and wonderfully wanton. Her mind swiftly joined her body in quest of nothing but more of the pleasure which was rippling through her entire body. She started rocking back and forth against him, tightening her insides in response to each of his forward thrusts.

      ‘Oh, God,’ he groaned. ‘Yes, yes, that’s it, sweetheart. That’s the way.’

      He let go of her hips and took hold of each of her nipples with his thumbs and forefingers, squeezing them and pulling them downwards. The combination of sensations was way beyond pleasure. It reached the outer stratosphere.

      Jessie cried out, then splintered apart with the most intense orgasm she had ever had. By the time Kane followed her several seconds later, she felt as if she’d fallen into quicksand. She clung on to that bedpost for dear life, knowing that if she let go she would surely sink to the floor.

      And then she was sinking, but somehow she didn’t hit the floor. Instead, Kane scooped her up in his arms. How could he do that? her befuddled mind tried to grasp. He was behind her, deep inside her still throbbing flesh. She could still feel him there. But, no, it seemed he wasn’t there any longer. She was being carried, and being lain down on top of his bed, his very soft, very comfortable bed. He started stroking her hair and her back and her legs, and that wave of exhaustion which had been hovering at the edges of her mind floated softly down over her. She mumbled something. It might have been ‘thank you’. She yawned.

      Then everything went black.

       CHAPTER TWELVE

      KANE returned from his trip to the bathroom to gaze down at Jessie asleep on top of his bed, smiling when he saw that she still had those sexy