Crossing the Line Read online

  “Slower,” Caite commanded in that low, silky voice that was like a fingertip trailing all the way down his spine to his balls.

  Jamison moved his mouth from hers to nuzzle and nibble at her neck. The ridge of her collarbone, exposed by her neckline. The first hint of her breasts. Then he stopped. Didn’t move. One knee pressed between her legs, nudging upward, then still.

  Caite let out a low, frustrated laugh. “Not that slow.”

  Then they were laughing again, and it had been so long since he’d laughed in bed with a woman... Hell, had he ever? He nuzzled her again, sliding a hand up to cup her breast. They stayed that way for a few minutes.

  She put her lips to his ear. “Get on your back.”

  He rolled, taking her with him so she straddled him. She opened his belt and button on the pants, then the zipper, working efficiently but stopping to look into his eyes as her hand slipped inside. His straining cock peeked out from the top of his briefs, already slick at the head. He thought if she touched him, he’d embarrass himself like a virgin in the backseat of his dad’s Mustang on prom night. When she curved her hand around him through the fabric of his briefs, he did indeed buck upward with a groan.

  Caite moved back, off him. “Take off your clothes.”

  He couldn’t move right away, paralyzed at the loss of her touch, until he forced himself to sit up and shrug out of his shirt. Then, standing, he took off his socks. Pants. At his briefs he paused, thumbs in the waistband, and instead of shucking them off and diving on top of her, he remembered what she’d said. Slower.

  He went slower.

  Caite’s smile made it worth it. She sat up on the bed, crooking a finger. “Come here.”

  He did, crawling up the bed toward her, but she held him back by putting her foot on his chest. Her toes curled lightly. He waited, impatient but forcing himself to do it anyway. She sat up and ran a fingertip down his shoulder, across his chest. Tweaked his nipple gently. Then harder.

  “Do you like pain, Jamison?”

  His laugh was harsher this time. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you want to find out?”

  His balls tightened at the thought of it. His cock twitched. “Do you?”

  “I’ve never hit anyone on purpose,” Caite whispered, voice shaking just enough to make him want to kiss her again and again, to never stop. “I’m not sure how I feel about it, to be honest.”

  This surprised him enough to sit back. Jamison swallowed. He didn’t want to dwell on what the hell he was doing here with her, what she’d awakened in him. Couldn’t think too hard about it or how he’d be an idiot about things, he knew it. But he had to ask her.

  “You said nobody’d ever responded to you the way I do.”

  “No. I mean, yes.” She laughed. “Nobody ever has. It’s intoxicating.”

  “But you’ve done...this...before?”

  He was grateful he hadn’t had to explain himself in greater detail. She got it right away. Caite shook her head slowly. Solemnly.

  “If you mean...take control?” she asked delicately, and he couldn’t be sure if he was grateful for her hesitation in giving this a more descriptive name or if he wanted to hear her say it out loud.

  “Dominate,” Jamison coughed on the word, his cock losing some of its thickness with the word.

  “Some things,” Caite said quietly, “don’t need to be named to enjoy them.”

  They stared at each other. She smiled, urging his own. Whatever it was, she made him want to do it. To please her. To give to her. To give in.

  “I’ve never—” he began, and she put a fingertip to his lips.

  “Shhh. I know. On your back,” Caite said. “Hands above your head.”

  In the past he’d indulged lovers who’d wanted to ride him, but this was different. This was...everything. When she shimmied out of her panties and straddled him, her skirt pushed to her hips, the stockings sleek against him, his fingers gripped the wooden spindles of his headboard hard enough to make it creak.

  “Condom?” she asked matter-of-factly.

  “Bedside table.... How did you know I’d...?”

  “I was hoping. You’d have been a very sad man if you didn’t have anything,” she whispered, reaching, the motion putting her delectable breasts within reach of his mouth. She laughed when he made to kiss her there and pulled away with a condom in her hand. “Ah, ah, ah.”

  In seconds she’d sheathed him. A moment after that, she’d settled herself on him with a groan he echoed. His prick throbbed inside her, and again Jamison feared he might spill. She gripped him with internal muscles, rocking, and again he made the headboard complain.

  “Slow,” she whispered, and reached to unpin her hair. It tumbled around her shoulders in waves of deep honey-blond, and though he longed to sink his fingers into it, Jamison kept his grip tight on the headboard, just as she’d told him to.

  She fucked him slowly, every rock and shift of her bringing him to the edge, only to have the pleasure settle back again. Caite closed her eyes, head tipping back. She hadn’t unbuttoned more than a couple buttons on her blouse, just enough to give him a hint of cleavage. She ran her hands over her breasts, then her belly, sliding her fingers between them to stroke her clit as her hips moved faster.

  She opened her eyes. “I came so hard when your mouth was on me, do you know that?”

  “I’m glad,” he found the strength to say.

  Caite moved faster, biting her lower lip in concentration. Her eyes met his, not looking away. He let himself drown in their darkness.

  “I want you to feel good, Jamison. The way you made me feel.”

  “I...do...”

  “Tell me how good.”

  He fucked upward, unable to help it. “Feels so damned good, Caite. I want to come.”

  “I want you to come,” she said. “But not just yet. Let me....”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  She cried out, low and raspy. Her pussy bore down on him, milking him, and he fought to keep himself from finishing, even though the world was tipping from the effort. He wanted to come, but his desire to feel her come around his cock was greater than his need to climax. He watched her ride him, her head tipped back, eyes closed in abandon. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in that moment, when at last she shook with pleasure and cried out his name. The sound of it triggered him at last, and he finished with a hoarse shout.

  She covered him with her body for a few seconds, her hair sweeping over him, before she rolled to the side with a contented sigh. “Damn.”

  Jamison let go of the headboard finally and rolled onto his side to face her. Tucking her hand under her cheek, Caite smiled at him. With her other hand, she pushed away some hair from his forehead and let her fingertip run down his nose to tap lightly on his lips before she got up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

  She was...leaving?”

  “Wait a minute,” Jamison said.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder, already pinning up her hair again. “Hmm?”

  “You can stay.”

  Caite laughed. “I know I can. But I’m not going to.”

  He sat up, confused and hating it. “Why not?”

  “Because,” she said as she leaned to kiss him softly, “you will be a grouch in the morning and we’ll have to have some sort of weird discussion about what this is or what we are, and you’ll be awkward about us working together. And I just can’t deal with it, Jamison. I’ve just had the best sex of my life, ever, and I’d love to bask in the afterglow, but I know you. You’re going to...”

  She paused with a low hitch in her breath, the confident woman he’d come to crave fading for a moment before she visibly shook herself into self-assurance again. She looked him in the eyes, cupping his face before letting him go. Stepping out