Taking the Lead(7)

       
         
       
        

Then came a moment when my writhing almost dislodged him and he shifted his weight to pin me completely. To see what would happen, I tried to actually wriggle free and found his arms and legs moved to keep me in place. Being pinned like that sent my desire surging! It was like a tide that had been coming in gradually suddenly hit a wall and waves of need leaped up, splashing, swamping me.

I freed my mouth to take a deeper breath and his mouth moved down to my neck. How he knew where the spot was that was like a direct line to my clit, I don't know-maybe he found it by luck, but once he did, he didn't let up. The zone was just below the array of diamonds of my choker and his tongue worked it softly but relentlessly. I moaned. Why was I trying to push him away? My hands were pushing at him but he was not letting me deter him from his goal, which seemed to be licking my neck like his life depended on it. He had a bit of stubble on his chin but instead of giving me rug burn it was only making my skin tingle even more.

I was trying to push him away because it was too much, too ticklish, too stimulating, and yet it wasn't, because when I didn't succeed in dislodging him I didn't shatter into a million pieces: I melted even more.

And so the game went. He didn't let up pleasuring that spot on my neck with his mouth, and every time it got too intense for me, I'd try to wrestle him off and he wouldn't let me. Each time I tried to fight him off and he didn't let me win, I fell deeper and deeper into his control. I could say "no"; wasn't that what he'd said? But I wanted to try to push him off, to see if I could, or to see what he'd do, where his limit was.

But I wasn't close to Axel Hawke's limit. He was single-minded in his goal to make me writhe. One of his hands strayed to the nipple that was pushing at the fabric of my gown and his thumb brushed it, teasingly light in contrast to the never-ending motion of his tongue and mouth. I felt my clit twitch with that touch.

It almost felt like he could make me come like that, without ever getting into my panties. Amazing. I had never felt a touch like that.

I tried one more time to get free. He was simply too good, too balanced, too determined  …  I was along for the ride, I realized. Just like with being carried from the auditorium, this was completely on Axel. It was as if my body finally caught up to what my brain had been trying to tell it and I stopped fighting him entirely. I surrendered to the incredible gift of the sensation building in my nerve endings. Instead of trying to push him away now, I was grinding against him, pulling him closer, harder, needing  …  something.

"I  …  I  … " I gasped. "I'm going to come."

"Yes you are," he murmured against my neck and shifted position ever so slightly, letting me wrap my leg around him. 

I'd never come with all my clothes on before. I'd never come in a limousine before. I'd never come in a one-of-a-kind Chanel dress before. And I sure as diamonds had never come rubbing myself off on the boner of a rock star of questionable sanity.

You can ask me later whose sanity was more questionable. I was too busy screaming because I was coming so desperately, so hungrily-it wasn't enough and yet it was too much at the same time. If he hadn't been so firmly planted between my thighs I would have been tempted to jam my hand down there myself. But he was there: I was entirely in his control.

My spasms peaked and then subsided suddenly, like they often do, leaving me gasping and limp as if I'd been beached by a wave.

When I opened my eyes, Axel Hawke was propped on one elbow, looking down into my face with mild concern. The disco ball's sparkles twinkled across his face and were reflected in his eyes.

Orgasm had shut off my filters. "Sakura was right. This is like the prom night that never was."

"Prom night?" An amused half-smile dimpled his cheek. "Are you okay?"

I tried to answer the question with actual information, but that took some thinking. "Did you mean to do that?"

"Make you come, you mean? Or kidnapping you in the first place?" He sounded much calmer than I expected him to be. After all, I could feel his erection between my legs, throbbing. Maybe he knew he didn't have to hurry because he knew I was under his spell. The thought made my insides clench hungrily, even though I'd just come.

"How about both," I said, trying to re-engage my logical mind.

"Well, they were both spur of the moment decisions, but, once I decided, then yes, I meant to do that." His tongue slowly swept the edge of his lip. "I hope that was all right with you."

I must've been full of sex hormones at that moment because his dimple was the cutest thing I had ever seen and his eyes-which had already been captivating-I was staring at them like a thief at the crown jewels. All I could manage to say was, "Okay."

"The publicity stunt part was planned, but I was supposed to make off with Sakura in this limo. She's going to kill me."

"She'll forgive you," I babbled. "You're very convincing."

"Good." He nuzzled behind my ear. "Now let me convince you to let me under that dress, Ms. Hamilton."

"I don't date bad boys," I heard myself saying, though at that moment all the reasons not to seemed very far in the back of my mind.

"I'm not asking you for a date. I'm asking you to let me under your dress."

That sounded so reasonable. Didn't it? "You're not going to give me some groupie's STDs, are you?"

He chuckled. "No. I'm clean. Are you?"

I almost told him how long it had been since I'd actually bothered to let anyone touch me below the waist. I decided he didn't need to know that. I kept my answer to "Yes."

"Good." He brushed his lips over the spot on my neck where he had been licking and suckling so intensely before. The light touch made goose bumps spring up on that half of my body. "Because I hate to break it to you, but your body is mine now."

"Oh, is it?" He's fun, I thought.

"Mm-hm," he said, in mock seriousness. "This spot right here is an on-off switch." He dragged his finger over the place on my neck. "Only I can turn it on and off, though."

"Really."

"Yep. Some doms make their subs wear a collar to keep that spot hidden. But I don't have to." He warmed my neck with his breath and my entire body felt like deliciously hot massage oil was pouring over it. "Now, are you going to take your gown off, or am I going to cut it off you?"



       
         
       
        

I remembered what Sakura had said about how she suspected he was dominant and I wondered if she was more certain than she'd acted. I also really wondered what he'd do if I said he should cut my dress off. But I didn't want to ruin the gown, even if I never wore it again. "I'll  …  I'll take it off." I was surprised to hear my voice shook, like an actress unsure of her lines.

He lay back then and gestured at me to do so. He was the picture of insouciant self-possession, his ankles crossed, his legs outstretched in their spandex, his hands folded on his flat stomach, his hair clinging sexily to his neck and his cheek. He had some kind of a curvy black tattoo on his upper arm and part of his chest but I couldn't get a good look at it in the disco-ball light.

I knelt on the floor, adrenaline pumping through me like it did when I was on stage or in a spotlight. I'd never liked this feeling when I did theater productions, which was why I wasn't an aspiring actress like Gwen. I was too afraid of messing up in front of everyone.

But here I had an audience of one. One person whose opinion mattered.

I couldn't remember where the zipper was.

"Here. I'll start," Axel said. He stripped off his own top in one smooth motion and then lay back down as if he were posing for a portrait entitled Royal Pasha in Repose. He gestured again to spur me.

Right. There was a tiny clasp hidden at one hip, and then the zipper ran up one side. I undid the zipper and peeled the gown down like white magnolia petals all around me.

"Pretty," he said, the tip of his tongue exploring his upper lip.

My nipples tightened as if that tongue were touching them.

"Pretty breasts," he added, as if he noticed. Of course he noticed. "How sensitive are they?"

"I don't really have a point of comparison."

"Show me, then. Run your fingers over them lightly, not the nipple, just the skin."

My cheeks flushed so suddenly it felt almost like sunburn. I'd never performed for a guy before. My fingers were trembling slightly with excitement as I made light circles with my middle fingers around the outside of my breasts. Was this what he wanted me to do?

"Look down," he said. "Watch your nipples."

I saw they were crinkling up and standing out like buttons.

"Keep circling, don't touch them yet."

"Yes, sir," I whispered.

"Mm, 'sir.' That has a nice sound to it." He sat up. "Because of the sweet way you said the word."

I blushed harder. "Sir" had been a guess on my part. This was getting more and more like an improv scene all the time. "Do you like it when I call you 'sir'?"