Page 50 of Outside the Lines
Ian pulled me away. “Thanks for everything, Anna.”
Hunter wandered off toward another group of people, and Ian led me down the path back toward the car.
“I’m sorry I’m such a fucking dork,” I said. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset or asked stupid questions.” Probably embarrassed the hell out of him.
He shot me a smile that melted my bones. “You’re not. And you didn’t.” He was still holding onto my arm and his grip tightened marginally. “If I didn’t know that we’d have people tromping up this path behind us, I’d do something very wicked and improper to you up against a tree.”
I gulped.
“But we kinda have a no-sex-at-work rule, especiallywhere people can see you.”
Oh, yeah. Ian wanted me. Just like Lydia had said. “I have a solution for that.” We reached the parking lot where Ian’s Mini was sitting.
“Yeah?” He was breathless and close and still had a grip on my arm.
“We could go to your place, and you could have your way with me.” After seeing our work blown up for the greater good, what I wanted most was oblivion, heat, and the tactile knowledge that someone gave a damn about me. I knew it logically, but sometimes, I needed more than words.
Ian’s hold on me loosened, but his gaze held me like a collar. “Get in the car, Simon.”
There was something about a vulnerable, submissive man that turned me inside out. That it was Simon tripped up my heart and mind. I drove down the darkened road toward my apartment, my hand on his over the emergency brake handle when I didn’t have to shift gears.
He’d been pretty close to tears after watching our miniature get blown up, even though that’s exactly what it had been built for. Couldn’t blame him. Intense work for an intense end, and I’d gone home a wreck the first time one of the sets I’d painstakingly built to perfection had been destroyed for the sake of a film. Sorrow still lingered on his features when I glanced his way and light from a stray streetlamp shone on his face.
I wanted to take the pain away, replace it with pleasure and obedience and love. I knew I could get from him two of those—the third he already had from his wife. No matter how much I cared for Simon, how much I loved him, I would never have the permanence he had with Lydia. Oh, I could love him for the long run—I was sure of that—but he’d given that commitment to someone else.We’dnever have it. On that drive to my place though, I let myself believe we could.
I parked, we got out, and I beckoned Simon to me. He came, and though all the light we had was from a dim bulb above the garage door, I saw the focus in his eyes and how he parted his lips. He was giving every bit of himself to me tonight.
I drew him in and kissed him, a sweet press of lips followed by a taste that could only be described as wanton. I claimed his mouth and pulled his body tight against my own.
I loved his moans and the way his desire trembled through his body. Hard muscles, harder dick, but so soft and pliable. My Simon. I relented, and he was breathless. “Upstairs,” I ordered.
He went first, and after we reached the top, I pressed him against the door while I unlocked it. “Let’s see how many of my fantasies I can fulfill tonight.”
Simon sighed, a sound of sheer surrender. When the door opened, he practically fell into my apartment, but my arm around his waist kept him standing. Soon after, my mouth was on his again, where it belonged, and my fingers bunched his shirt. I hauled Simon across the room until we were at my bed. “I want you to stand here for now. Nothing more.” I spoke against his lips. “No sounds, no roaming hands, only you here, for me.”
He met my gaze and nodded slightly.
A thumb against his lips got me a flicker of eyelashes and what looked to be a swallowed moan. Control and obedience. We’d see how long that lasted. I traced fingers down his neck to his collar and worked the first button of his shirt. Then the next, and another, until his button-down hung open, exposing his sweet flesh to my hands and mouth. I pushed the shirt off and freed his hands from the cuffs so that it fell to the floor. A press of my palm over his pecs made Simon waver. When I caressed, then pinched his nipple, he bit his lip and closed his eyes, but he didn’t move much, and he didn’t utter a sound aside from his quickening breath.
“You know, this makes me wonder if you were ever in a formal D/s relationship.” I met his gaze, but he gave nothing away. “You’re so obedient. Too bad I’m going to break you in the end.”
A touch of a smile at that, as if he took my words as a challenge.
We’d see. I stepped in close, my hands on the top of his jeans, my lips grazing against his. “I’m gonna make you scream, Simon.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. I unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and pushed them down over his hips until they dropped around his legs.
A twitch of his arms and legs, as if he wanted to help the slide, to give me access, to thrust against me. The heat from his skin was delicious, as were his shallow huffs of breath. Cracks in that passive face, with so much lust and desire spilling out from beneath the stillness.
Passionate, hard, needy Simon. All mine. I’d savor every breath and inch and moan. I’d break him until I had him all, until I consumed him and he stole my heart and we burned like the model we’d made.
His cock was tenting his underwear and brushed against my thigh. I stroked the flesh above the elastic band before slipping my hands inside to push those off his body too.
Still not a murmur. His breath caught, but no sound, not even when I held his hips and rocked against him.
How he fought to stay silent was a fucking masterpiece. His flush face, his eyes screwed shut, and his teeth pressing indents into his bottom lip. Huffs of breath through his nose, and every muscle trembling.
“You know I’ll win in the end, Si. Might as well give up.”
