Every Part of You: Takes Me (#5) Read online

Simone’s nipples tightened in sympathy, and there was an answering tug of arousal between her legs. Vera looked at her. She stroked Nick’s cock lightly, then cupped his balls. He didn’t quite flinch—obviously he’d been trained better than that, but his muscles tensed and he bit his bottom lip in anticipation of the pain his mistress was at the moment withholding.

  “Nick can make you forget your hurt, if only for a little while. He has a very clever tongue and a very pretty cock. And you can hurt him,” Vera added in a whisper, stroking, stroking, stroking until Nick shuddered and lifted slightly onto his toes. Then she squeezed him just behind the head of his prick and he went still. “You can hurt him as much as you have to.”

  “I don’t want to hurt him,” Simone whispered, tasting the lie like acid.

  Vera laughed under her breath. “Oh, honey. I think you do. Kiss her, Nick.”

  Nick paused, waiting respectfully for permission. This time, Simone gave it. The feeling of his lips on hers was at first so shockingly unfamiliar, so different than Elliott’s kisses had been, that she wanted to recoil. In the next moment, Nick’s hand cupped the base of her skull, fingers curling against her skin, and rising pleasure washed away the memory of that other man’s mouth.

  She would forget him.

  Erase him.

  Simone opened her mouth, giving Nick her tongue. He took it, sucking gently. She could feel his hard prick between them, but he didn’t grind her against him. Waiting for her permission again? Simone slid her hands down to cup Nick’s ass, feeling the muscles bunch and flex under her touch.

  “Very nice.” Vera had settled herself onto the couch, one long leg crossed over the other, her hands linked on a knee. She leaned forward to watch. “Nick. Take off her shirt now, and get your mouth on her lovely tits.”

  And oh, how he did. He licked and sucked and nibbled, always repeating what made Simone sigh and moan, changing what she didn’t respond to. He backed her carefully to the couch and eased her down so he could kneel between her legs, his focus still on her breasts and nipples until Simone arched and shuddered beneath him.

  “Eat my pussy,” she ordered, breathless, voice cracking. She lifted her hips, already undoing the button and zipper to help him peel the jeans off.

  In moments, she was bare, her ass sticking to the leather couch and one leg propped on Nick’s shoulder while he bent to feast on her. Simone was vaguely aware of Vera murmuring commands to him from her place on the other side of the sofa, but Simone ignored her.

  This felt too fucking good.

  Sex had always been her escape. When she’d first discovered the joys of what her hands could do late at night in the quiet of her room, she’d spent hours learning what made her body sing. Later, when boys had started trying to do the same things, she’d already known what got her off and had been able to show them. But she’d learned, too, how amazing it could be when another person was touching her. Stroking, licking, sucking, biting.

  “Oh, fuck,” she muttered as Nick flickered his tongue, fast as a hummingbird’s wings, against her clit. “Bite me.”

  He took instruction well and immediately, moving his mouth to the soft, sensitive inner flesh of her thigh and pressing his teeth there. The pain was brief but exquisite. Her hands found his hair, the full thickness of it, and this, too, was different from Elliott. She reveled in it, digging her nails into his scalp to urge him back to her pussy.

  If Vera was still telling Nick what to do, Simone didn’t hear her. All she could hear was the pound of her own heart and the rasp of her breathing, along with his soft, panting moans. His hands moved up her thighs, pressing the spots he’d bitten. He pinched her there, hard, and Simone surged against him. She was lost, lost, everything was lost in the feeling of his mouth and hands on her, his fingers sliding deep inside her. His tongue stroked her clit in a steady, perfect rhythm.

  “Get on your back. On the floor,” she ordered, and he did at once. She fit her cunt to his mouth, her knees on either side of his head, pressing the soft carpet. Simone rocked against his lips and tongue. His hands came up to grip her ass.

  She was going to come, yes. Absolutely. The release teased her. Taunting, until at last her orgasm ripped through her and left her shaking and panting. She came back to herself slowly, easing off Nick’s face to straddle his belly. His cock nudged between them, pressing her clit. Simone blinked and breathed, licking her mouth to taste sweat. He smiled at her, making no move to urge her onto his dick or in any other way satisfy himself.

  “Get up,” Simone said in a voice that didn’t sound like her own.

  She got off him. Nick got to his feet. Simone took his cock in her hand and stroked it once, twice, watching his face. He bit his lower lip, but made no move to touch her.

  “He’s good,” Vera said from behind them. “Isn’t he?”

  Simone’s orgasm had been pleasure; no doubt about that, it had left her spent and sated. But not satisfied. The stillness she needed inside her wasn’t there. Sex had always been a gift, but this time she’d been left as empty as before.

  Vera had moved up behind her while Simone studied Nick—his broad, muscled chest, smooth and warm. His ridged belly. His lovely prick. Now the other woman’s breath caressed the back of Simone’s neck.

  “It’s okay,” she said in a low voice, pressing the crop into Simone’s hand. “He wants it. You understand how that feels. You can give him what he needs and wants, maybe better than anyone, yes? Because you know.”

  Simone did understand. She took the crop from Vera’s hand and tested the weight of it in her own. She might not be entirely clear on the desire to give pain, but she was absolutely crystal on the technique. “Turn around. Hands on the wall.”

  Nick did as she said without hesitation. Without so much as a flinch. He stood with his hands at shoulder height, fingers slightly spread on the cream plaster. His bare toes curled against the hard wood bared by the edge of the rug.

  “Do you want this?”

  “Yes,” Nick said in a voice that reminded Simone so much of her own. “Please.”

  For the first time, Simone understood how it felt to be on the other side of the crop. “Safe word?”

  “Melancholy,” Nick said with a glance over his shoulder.

  “Melancholy,” Simone repeated, tasting each syllable. She closed her eyes briefly, the pain in her heart flaring again. She knew all about melancholy.

  And now she would learn how it felt to lose herself in someone else’s pain instead of her own.

  “Let me show you,” Vera breathed unexpectedly into Simone’s ear. Her breasts pressed Simone’s back. Her hand slid along Simone’s arm to cover her wrist, helping her to swing the crop. “Like this.”

  Nick gave a low cry at the first blow, but didn’t move. Simone watched the red welt rise on his tawny skin and felt the answering pull of arousal inside her. Vera stepped away from her. Simone again hefted the weight of the crop.

  She hit him again.

  This time, Nick jerked. He moaned. His hips thrust forward a little, then stilled.

  “Turn around,” Simone ordered again. “Put your back against the wall.”

  She hadn’t made him bleed; there would be no mess. But there would be pain as he pushed his aching back to the plaster. He obeyed immediately, hands going flat on the wall. His cock rose proudly, tapping his belly as his chest rose and fell with his rapid breathing. Sweat had broken out on his brow.

  Simone spit into her palm to lube him as she stroked. Hard. Nick closed his eyes, hips thrusting.

  “Open your eyes,” she demanded, gripping him just behind the head. To Vera, she said, “Is he allowed to come?”

  Vera laughed, low and husky. “Oh, I think so, if you want him to. Nick’s been a very good boy.”

  Simone drew in a breath. Red haze tickled the edges of her vision, though not as though she were going to pass out. No, this was something different. This was power filling her.

  “Stroke yourself,” she ordered him. “I’m g