Read His Name Is Sir (The Power to Please #3) Online

Authors: Deena Ward

Tags: #The Power to Please 3

His Name Is Sir (The Power to Please #3) (2 page)

After Josh disappointed me by not slipping his hand underneath my skirt, I took matters into my own hands. The new me. Going after what I wanted. Making things happen.

I leaned into Josh and whispered, “Want to take a walk?”

He nodded. I told my friends that we’d be back soon, ignored their waggling eyebrows, and headed off toward the beach, holding hands with Josh.

A row of tall hedges lined the sides of the patio, separating it from the darkened courtyard next door. Once Josh and I were far enough away from the patio that no one would be watching us anymore, I doubled back to the bar, dragging Josh along with me.

He asked, “Hey, where are you going? I thought we were ...”

I shushed him. “Just follow me.”

I pulled him between the hedgerow and the wrought iron fence that enclosed the courtyard. After peeking through the gaps in the hedge to find a spot I liked, I stopped and put my arms around Josh’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

His hands closed around my waist and I snugged tightly against him. In no time, his growing erection pressed into my belly. Yes, good.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and smoothed my hands up under his shirt, sliding my palms over the muscled planes of his back. Josh groaned and kissed a soft trail down to my collarbone.

I turned to look through the hedges. Could anyone see what we were doing here? It was possible. I couldn’t be sure. If they looked through the gaps in the shrubbery, they could see. Of that, I was certain.

After more heated kisses and caresses, I put my hands on Josh’s shoulders and pushed down firmly, taking us both to our knees, sinking into the soft sand. I guided Josh’s hand underneath my tank top, and he hesitantly squeezed my breast.

He panted, his voice sounding reedy when he whispered, “Damn, Nonnie, let’s go to your room.”

I shook my head. “No, can’t wait for that.”

I shoved against his chest, pushing him backwards, trying to get him flat on his back, but he wouldn’t go down all the way.

He whispered, “Not here. There are people right on the other side.”

I kept pushing at his chest. “I don’t care.” Though, of course, I did care. The people were the whole damned point.

He groaned, finally letting me shove him onto his back. I landed on his chest, between his open legs.

“Oh, God,” he mumbled when I nibbled his neck and ear. “I’m going to get sand everywhere. It seems like a good idea, but it’s not. Trust me.”

I said, “When we’re done, I’ll take you back to my room, get you in the shower and rinse every last grain of sand off your naked body. I’ll use my tongue, if that’s what it takes. I promise.”

“Mmm,” was his response.

I reached under my shirt and quickly undid the front closure hooks of my bra. I guided Josh’s hands to my freed breasts. Savoring his groan of pleasure, I captured it in a kiss.

I opened my mouth to invite him inside, and he accepted the invitation with a force that pleased me enough to ignite a spark between my legs. I rubbed my hips against his erection, pushed my breasts against his hands, hoping to increase the pressure of his fondling.

Josh’s eyes were closed, so I stole glances through the gaps in the hedge. Had anyone noticed us? Not that I could see. However, the fact remained that anyone could notice us. It was just a matter of chance.

A big thud sounded in my chest. A matter of chance.

I sat up and scooted my way backward until I could get at Josh’s pants. I yanked open his belt and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans while he said ridiculous things like, “Jesus, I don’t know about this,” and “Let’s go to your room.”

I reached into his boxers and pulled out his hard cock. Wrapping my fingers around it, I gave it a few gentle strokes, then took Josh’s hand and held it between my legs, knowing he would find me wet and ready.

I said, “It’s a long walk to my cottage. I might lose this before we get there.”

He hooked a finger under my panties, slipped inside my slick folds and said, “Fuck.”

I thought, guess that puts an end to his stupid arguments.

I asked, “Do you have a condom?” even though I already knew he would.

He answered that he did, in his wallet. We fumbled about until he had the packet in hand and tore it open. I took the rubber from him and quickly rolled it down his shaft.

Another glance at the hedgerow and I was more than ready. I straddled his hips, pulled my panties to one side, and held his cock in my hand to guide him inside me. I lowered myself onto him, my body easily accepting his width and length. I moaned softly. Josh joined in.

His dick was of a good size, though not as large as the one I had recently become accustomed to. All the same, he filled me well enough, and it was fine, the feeling of him pressing against the walls of my pussy, the slick slide of his length inside me.

Josh held my hips, but I was the one driving. I laid my hands on his muscled chest and began to fuck him, slowly, carefully, taking long strokes that made us both shudder.

He closed his eyes. I looked to the hedgerow. I heard people chatting on the other side, less than fifteen feet away. I smelled the burning candles on their tables, the tangy waft of hot wings, fruity-scented cocktails and layers of perfume and cologne. So close.

I squinted, trying to find a pair of eyes turned our way. Any eyes would do. Any.

Nothing. No one.

I knew Josh was close to coming, knew that if I picked up the tempo he would be over the edge in only a few moments. I held my steady pace. I wasn’t close yet. This was good, but not good enough. The chance of being seen wasn’t enough.

I imagined that someone on the other side of the hedge was watching us. No, imagination wasn’t good enough either.

I ground myself around on Josh, enjoying the sensations of his cock moving back and forth inside me. I ran a finger over my clit, circling lightly, then more firmly. I sighed softly. Good, but ...

Not enough.

So close.

I blew out a breath. Some noise, maybe, would do the trick, turn a pair of eyes our way.

No. That wasn’t the thing.

Then I turned and looked through the wrought iron fence and into the dark, empty courtyard on the other side of us.

My breath caught in my throat.

The courtyard wasn’t empty.

There, next to a tree, someone was standing. Watching.

The tree blocked most of the moonlight from showing the features of the person, but the outline revealed a distinctly-male form. He simply stood there, facing us, watching. I thought his hands may have been in his pockets.

A pulse of pure heat shot outward from my core, and I remembered to breathe again. A big gulp of air.

I looked to the shadowy form, and I pulled off my shirt and bra in one movement. Then I turned back to Josh, whose eyes were open now and staring at my breasts. He reached up and fondled me. I put my hands over his and squeezed hard, trying to tell him without words what it was I wanted from him.

And then I fucked him, hard and fast, my knees grinding into the gritty sand, my hips rising and falling, bucking over him. My heartbeat quick, shallow like my breaths. I let the pressure build.

And when the moment was right, when I knew Josh wouldn’t last more than a few seconds longer, I clamped down the muscles in my pussy and gazed into the courtyard, straight to where my silent spectator stood. There he was. The dark outline of him.

I came hard, pleasure spiraling out from my pussy. I must have cried out too loudly, because Josh abruptly sat up and mashed a hard hand over my mouth.

Then he, too, came, his hips jerking beneath me, pushing me onward into my orgasm.

I couldn’t stop looking at the man in the shadows. Couldn’t stop looking until the last of the pleasure faded into shuddery aftershocks.

Josh took his hand off my mouth and fell back onto the sand, pulling me with him, my bare chest against his cotton shirt. He wrapped his arms around me and we lay there puffing and panting, his rapidly deflating cock still inside me.

When I had myself back together again, I turned my eyes once more to the dark courtyard. The stranger was gone. Disappeared.

I wondered, had he truly been there? Could his form have been a trick of light and shadow? Could my desire for an audience have conjured him, golem-like, from the dark matter of my need?

I didn’t actually care though, if he were real or not. He had been real enough when it mattered.

Josh said, his voice soft against my ear, “Damn, Nonnie, that was hot.”

I thought, he didn’t know the half of it.

 

 

 

Later, back in my room, I fulfilled my promise to Josh and made sure not a single, annoying grain of sand remained on his body. He returned the favor then carried me off to my bed.

Josh was a good lover, but whatever he did, it wasn’t enough to take me over the edge. Even when I was on all fours and he was fucking me fast and furious, even when I convinced him to smack my ass a few times, it wasn’t enough, wasn’t hard enough, wasn’t even close to what I craved.

It wasn’t his fault. What he was doing should have been enough. I eventually faked an orgasm to give him the permission he needed to finish himself off.

I cuddled with him for a while afterward, then sent him on his way, telling him I had to get up early, that he was great, I’d loved it. Maybe I’d see him again someday. All the crap you say to get someone out of your bed at two o’clock in the morning.

When he was gone, I hopped back into bed and wrapped the covers around myself.

It had been a night of hit and miss. If there had been any lingering doubts in my mind about the direction my sex life was heading, then tonight should have put those doubts down for a final count.

Some unwanted lines filtered through my memory, sounding as clear as when I first heard them nearly a week ago.

“You’ll feel differently later. When you start to miss what I can give you, that other men can’t.”

Taunting words, spoken by Michael Weston when I dumped him. So cocksure, he was. So full of himself.

And worse, he might have been right.

Hell.

No. I might be missing what he could give me, but it didn’t make me feel any differently about him. I had made the right decision, leaving him. And all the unfulfilling vanilla sex in the world wouldn’t put me back under Michael’s uncaring and sloppy control.

However, there was still the matter of what other men couldn’t give me. I couldn’t go back to the way it was before. Before I had learned things about myself. Before I met Gibson Reeves, and then Michael Weston.

Of course, there was no reason to want to go back to that place. I was lonely back then. Unsure of what I wanted. I had all of this pent-up energy and desire that had no place to settle, no path to follow. I had believed myself to be a woman on a mission. The only problem was, I didn’t know what that mission might be.

To be truthful with myself, I still wasn’t certain of my ultimate mission. Maybe I never would know, but I did have an idea of where I wanted to go in the near future.

I wanted to continue pursuing my foray into BDSM. There was so much for me to explore, so much to learn about myself and what was surely still hidden inside me.

When I had first come on my vacation, straight from the awful events at Michael’s apartment, I had thought that maybe it was time for me to end my journey. After nearly being raped with a beer bottle, I was shaken up, and blamed myself for much of what happened.

Soon, though, I realized that I was more angry than afraid, more disgusted at the actions of others, and less focused on what I had done, or what I hadn’t done. If I let their actions drive me away, then I stood to lose what little I had gained.

So I performed my experiments with the willing Josh. I learned that I could take control if necessary, make things happen the way I wanted them to, like I had done between the hedgerow and the dark courtyard. It had been good for me. But I knew it could be better.

I knew what I really wanted, what drove me wild. Had there really been any question of it since the moment Gibson Reeves had taken me in the hallway of that bar a month and a half before? No, not really.

I needed a man who could take control. And not just any man.

I learned with Michael that it needed to be the right man. A man who would take control and accept that I needed to retain enough of it to protect myself.

I simply needed to choose my next partner more wisely.

Once I was home, that was exactly what I would do. I would throw off society’s conventions. I would seek out what pleased me, would find my pleasure and I wouldn’t confuse a mind-blowing orgasm with love.

I would search for a casual partner, or more than one. I would find those I could trust, but take care only to bestow that trust once it was earned.

I could give up control and retain it at the same time, could play the game by my own rules. I had the final say.

After my experience with Michael, I wouldn’t forget that, ever again.

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