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He was sitting on the front steps in khakis and an open-collared white shirt, the sleeves rolled up, his back comfortably leaned up against a column.
She got out, shouldered her overnight bag with a casualness she was far from feeling when he looked at her out of those half-lidded, direct tiger eyes.
“How much money do you have?” she asked waspishly.
“You after me for my money now?”
“I have never been after you, Tyler Winterman. You’ve chased me from the beginning. Shamelessly and tiresomely. ”
“Really? That embarrassing, am I?”
“Like a slavering hound. ” She walked up to him, making the mental correction that he was more like a bloodhound. He tilted his head, surveying her from the tips of her sandals, her bare knees, the hem of her sleeveless linen sundress, up to her breasts and face, lingering on the hair she’d caught in a banana clip and which spilled over one shoulder.
“You look like a beautiful island sprite. ” He ran his hands up her calves, under the skirt. Before she could back away, he had a firm grip on her thighs. “Drop the bag and come down here. Give Fido a break and let me drool on you a bit. ” She knew there was nothing joking about the underlying command as his strength pulled her inexorably forward. She only had a moment to drop the bag before he had her stepping over him. Bringing her down to straddle his lap, his hands comfortable under the short skirt, he found the front of her thin panties with his thumbs while his fingers took a firm grip on her bare cheeks. He looked at her eye to eye as she felt the delicious pressure of his cock.
“Did you miss me?”
“A little. When I was bored and had nothing else to think about. ” He caught the back of her head with one hand and took a nip at her bottom lip, made them part, his breath stroking her face. “Liar. Your cunt was wet for me all the way here. Your panties are soaked. ”
“I was thinking about someone else. ”
“Mm-hmm. ” He covered her mouth with his, plunged deep. His hand held her nape while his other slid farther into that wet area, fingering her, making her shudder.
“Tell me his name then. Say who you’re thinking about, who’s getting your pussy so slick. Say it. ”
“Tyler,” she whispered softly in his mouth. He made a satisfied growl, moving his grip to her waist and pulling her further onto him, his fingers digging into her hips.
They’d made love, said the word “relationship”. She couldn’t help feeling sensual delight in the easy banter, the passion of newfound romance, the wild addictive quality it had. She’d never experienced anything like it before, knew she couldn’t trust or absorb it this fast, but he took over as he seemed to know how to do with her, leaving her with no footing and no anchor but him.
He pushed the skirt up to her waist, baring her lower body to the sunlight. Finding her bra strap, he unhooked it, his hands coming around to capture her breasts beneath the loosened cups. When he surged up, working his mouth down the side of her throat, the upward pressure on her breasts made them all the more visible to him in the scooped neck. He was going to have sex with her right here on his front porch. While the winding drive and high brick fence hid them from public view, it still added to her arousal to feel his desire to take her here, wherever he wished, on his territory.
She didn’t push him away as his mouth descended, took hold of her nipple through the cotton, suckled as he squeezed her buttocks. Her hips moved on him, wanting.
Wanting him now.
“Please…”
“Please what?” He nipped her sharply.
She gasped, tightening her hands on his shoulders. “Please, Master. Take me here.
On the stairs. I need you. Now. ”
Tyler realized he hadn’t meant to make the demand, but her immediate response punched him low in the gut as he saw she hadn’t expected herself to respond as naturally as she had. Or as immediately.
“Soon. ” He cradled her face, kissed her mouth hard again. “I’ll fuck you, angel, make love to you, make you scream when you come. But first I have a gift for you. I’ve been counting the minutes until you got here so I could give it to you. ”
He refastened her bra for her, lifted her off him and straightened her skirt, as if unaware of her mutinous look. As he got to his feet, Marguerite deliberately trailed her fingers over him, a light scrape of her nails on his turgid cock, straining against his pants. Catching her hand, he pulled her to him. “Behave,” he reproved. But he gave her a tender kiss on her nose that surprised her, though it barely distracted her from the throb of her body.
What had happened to her infamous control? But she knew. A sub didn’t have to have control around her Master. Only within his demands. She was quite literally a switch when she was with him, all of her compulsions commensurate with a submissive’s behavior, as strong in her as the Mistress when she stood over a different type of man.
“So how was your day? What did you do?”
He opened the door for her, guided her in with a hand at the small of her back.
Behaving like the perfect gentleman while she had to clench her fingers into fists to keep from slapping him. Or jumping him.
“We had a large afternoon crowd,” she said at last. “Chloe tried her hand at a poppy seed cake that was gone in no time. ”
