Reckless Kiss: Episode 13

Reckless Kiss: Episode 13

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(Click here to go to Episode 1)

Episode 13

The surge of possession I felt at Esme’s confession was not small. In fact, I might even say it was all consuming. “I’m not leaving.”

Her eyes flared and her mouth opened with what I could only assume was another attempt at shocking me into leaving. So I placed my index finger over her lips. “You can stop all that nonsense. I don’t care about any of it.” I stepped into her, brought our bodies flush. “I need you too, Esme. You’re killing me each and every time you push me away. I won’t stand for it any longer.”

Color rose in her cheeks, a distinct flush of arousal spread across her neck and breasts. Because of what I said? Most likely. She liked when I challenged her, but she also responded beautifully to being told what to do. She was a complicated little rebel like that.

I kissed her then, showing her I meant to have her, giving her an opportunity to demand I leave. She kissed me back, slid her hands up my chest, over my shoulders, and behind my neck. So I took the kiss deeper, grabbed her ass, drank in her moan.

“You were brilliant tonight.” I pulled back enough to slow us down. At the rate we were moving I’d have her naked in seconds. Not that being naked was a bad thing. I wasn’t leaving this office until she was satisfied and ready to accept the fact that I wanted more than a few stolen moments.

I wanted all of her moments.

“I didn’t do anything.” Her eyes blinked open, arms still around my neck.

“I suppose I should rephrase then. The presentation highlighted your brilliance.” I ducked down to place a soft kiss on her cheek. “Your brain is sexy as fuck.”

Her eyes drifted closed for a moment, her breath turning raspy. “In crowds and with friends you maintain your hybrid American/British English oddities, but when you’re aroused you drop into standard American slang.”

Why oh why did that turn me on so much? “Tell me more, Esme.” I ran my hands down her sides, over that delectable curve from waist to hip, all while sucking softly down her neck. Her head fell back, giving me all the access I needed.

“Many Americans incorrectly believe English is a Latin language because of the number of borrowed words from the French, but English is a Germanic-based language. It was the constant conquering back and forth between the English and the French that necessitated the sharing of common terms, which is why there are so many French terms in standard English, thus causing the confusion over English’s origins.”

I gave her hips a squeeze. “You know a lot about language.”

She smiled and shrugged, shrinking back a bit. “I see patterns. More than is normal or average, or whichever word you prefer.”

Her quick correction from ‘normal’ to ‘average’ told me she’d been informed she wasn’t normal often enough for it to bother her. “I can confirm that you are well above average in every way that matters, Esme. Being normal is boring.”

“Yes, well, tell that to the kid who could predict financial trends just by reading headlines, or accurately guess which teams would be in the playoffs each season.”

“It’s not a guess if you’re studying patterns and leveraging statistics. That’s an informed decision based on available information.” The hair on the back of my neck rose.

She searched my eyes, then nodded once. “True.”

“That’s an amazing skill to come by naturally.” Which made me wonder . . . “Did your father try to exploit that?”

She froze, just for a moment, just long enough for me to know it was true.

“You’re very good at reading people,” she whispered.

I ran my hand over her collarbone, watching her nerves settle at my touch. “I notice everything about you Esme. I can’t seem to help myself. You’re like a drug. I get high on your responses; I crave to understand the ones I don’t expect. I could study you forever and never get bored.” And because I needed my next fix, I ran my knuckles over the bodice of her dress, watched her tense as I grazed her nipples. “So your father saw that he had his own little financial wizard and what? Used you for guiding his investments?”

I had a very good feeling there was much, much more here, but I needed to start small, get her to trust me with her secrets, understand that I only wanted her, not her abilities.

And trust me she did. As long as I kept touching her, teasing her into a long, drawn out seduction, the information kept tumbling from her mouth. Was it fair to use her pleasure as a truth serum? Probably not. But she could also tell me to leave at any time and she wasn’t.

“I didn’t realize it at first,” she panted as I palmed her breasts and ran circles around her nipples with my thumbs. “I was just a kid babbling at the breakfast table before school as the newspapers were passed around. A few months later I realized Edmund was asking very specific questions, that his sudden interest in speaking to me was motivated by money, not affection.”

The fucking bastard. I hated him more and more. To reward her candor I unzipped her dress and let the top slide down. I mouthed her perfect nipples, causing her to lean back against her desk, thrusting her breasts up for me to feast on.

“And then,” she gasped, “and then he offered to pay me. If I kept talking he’d pay me.”

“How old were you?” I cupped her mound and she moaned in response, so I pressed and rubbed until she was practically crawling onto the desk.

“Thirteen.”

“You weren’t even in high school and he was investing based on your observations?” That was . . . well it was incredible, but also incredibly sad.

“Oh no, I was a junior by then. I skipped kindergarten, third, and seventh grades.”

“You really are brilliant.”

She stopped grinding against my hand and met my gaze, her eyes clear as she spoke. “I was motivated to get away from my father, Leo. Put your fingers inside me now, please.”

And that’s when I realized that Esme was completely aware of my little game and playing along because she wanted to tell me her story. Maybe even needed the distraction of my hands on her body to be able to do it.

So of course I complied. I moved beneath the slip of fabric and circled her entrance to find she was very wet indeed. I slid my middle finger inside, shocked and awed by the velvety heat. “Good god, you’re so very ready for me, aren’t you, darling?”

She bit her lip, rode my hand. “I like it when you slip back and forth with your accent. It tells me exactly how you’re feeling.”

I slid in my index finger and pumped her several times. “And how am I feeling?”

“Aroused but in control. You like being the one in charge.”

Truth be told I enjoyed many different things, depending on the occasion. But with Esme, my darling Esme, a kind of possession came out in me. A need to be her everything, to dismantle her world and give her peace. “You fascinate me.”

“And you fascinate me.” Her hair fell over her shoulder as she shifted forward to whisper a kiss against my lips. “I think you can tell that I’m a very sexual person. To find someone like you, to feel I can be myself with you, it’s very . . . what was the word you used? Drug?”

I nodded, mesmerized by her.

“You’re like my drug, Leo. You release my inhibitions and set me free.”

I sank silently to my knees, dragging her useless, soaking panties with me. “These are mine now.” I tucked them into my pocket, then placed my hands on her thighs and spread her before me. My mouth watered in anticipation. “And Esme?”

She gasped and moaned as I blew cool air over her sex. “Yes?”

I chose this position, this moment, to make my confession. I wanted to worship her, wanted her to see with her eyes that my words matched my intentions. “You’re right. About everything.” I licked along her lips and circled her clitoris once. “Sex is a fundamental part of who I am.” I sucked on her lightly, felt her tremble. “I need deep, physical intimacy, otherwise I feel . . . incomplete.” I nuzzled her sex, breathed in her scent, felt the soul deep rightness of being with her. “I would very much like to make this permanent.”

I sat back on my heels and waited.

She nodded slowly. “Just me?”

“Only you. Only me. Complete trust and freedom for both of us.”

She nibbled lower lip. “For how long?”

“Does it matter?”

“Maybe.”

I didn’t want her to shrink away so I touched her again, pleasured her with my fingers until she was panting and grinding back. “Why might it matter?” One finger became two as I sucked her clit, watching her intently.

“Because,” she panted, “because you might change your mind when you get to know me and . . . and I’m not good with ending things.”

If she thought I was ever going to end things with her she was losing her damn mind. She was everything I ever dreamed possible. Someone who fed off pleasure every bit as much as I did, craved the intimacy and vulnerability, all wrapped up in a fucking gorgeous, brilliant package.

But she was also clearly dealing with a lot of baggage I didn’t understand. Was it possible some of it would shock me? Possibly. Would any of it make me want her less? No. I couldn’t believe that. I felt too connected to her, a bond I couldn’t understand.

“Would it make you feel better if I promised a minimum length of time?”

“Yes.” She nodded furiously.

“How long are we talking? A year? A month? A decade?”

“Six months, she said quickly. “I need at least six months of you.”

Six whole months of Esme in my bed? That gave me plenty of time to convince her to spend even more. I didn’t know exactly how long and quite frankly I didn’t care. All I knew was that was where she belonged and I’d do just about anything to make it happen.

“A year,” I countered for the hell of it.

Her eyes rounded in surprise. “Why?”

I couldn’t help but to smile as I kissed her, suckled her. “I don’t think you understand just how much I want you, Esme. All of you. Just you. I’ll take whatever I can get, but please don’t blame me for being greedy.”

I worked her over for several minutes, feeling her, tasting her, absorbing every fucking sound. “Tell me something, Esme. Tell me something you think will shock me. Maybe if we get some of it out of the way you’ll believe me.”

I stood then, stripped off my jacket, got rid of my tie, and waited for her confession.

“I use sex as a way to escape.”

“I already know that, darling. Tell me something I don’t know.”

She watched with wide, hungry eyes as I undid my cuffs and rolled my sleeves. She swallowed hard. “I use sex to clear my mind. Sometimes it gets really wild in there. Really wild, Leo. And the only thing I’ve found that clears it is a certain kind of sex.”

I wanted answers to two things now. “Have you tried medication?”

“Of course. But it fogs up my mind and makes it hard to work. I don’t feel like myself anymore. Besides . . . I have a method that works wonders.”

I unbuttoned my first two buttons and cracked my neck. “And it is?”

“Being consumed.” She blinked from my neck to my eyes. “Tied up, dominated, humiliated . . . there are plenty of options, but the important factor is being so overwhelmed by pleasure, having control taken from me so I can clear my mind.”

“I already know that about you, as well.” Our first night together she became a different person when I held her down. The more I restricted her movements the faster and harder orgasms came.

She took a long, deep breath then and it appeared she was resigning herself to telling me something much bigger; something she genuinely thought would give me pause.

“I told you I became rebellious. Terribly rebellious, actually. I’ve done things I regret, illegal things. I’ve used and abused. And I’ve done things solely because I knew they would horrify my father if he found out. I’m not that person anymore. I,” she looked away, embarrassed, “I hurt people I loved because I was so focused on my rebellion.”

I stepped up to the desk and grabbed her left leg, bending it until her heel rested on the edge. Then I did the same to her right leg. “We all do things when we’re young and hurt. We learn from them and we grow up. We do better when we know better. How long will you have me, Esme?” She’d said enough for one day. I’d take her confessions and promise her forever.

“Six months. I won’t hold you to any more.”

“What if I want more?” I couldn’t help but admire the sight of her flushed and needy, spread before me on her desk. I couldn’t hold out any longer. I needed to be inside her, needed to feel her come on my cock.

So I loosened my belt, unbuttoned my slacks, and slid down my zip.

“If, after you know me you still want more, we’ll decide how to proceed.” Her eyes slid to the erection in my hand as I rolled on a condom. “What are you going to do to me now?”

“We’re going to debauch your office in celebration of our new relationship. You’ll remember every day when you come into work that I fucked you on this ridiculously clear desk, with your fancy dress around your hips and your tits out for me to enjoy. You’ll remember I was fully clothed.”



Thank you for reading episode 13 of Reckless Kiss! New episodes will release in my newsletter every Tuesday. If you enjoy this story please check out my free book Tease. It has a very similar style, level of heat, and types of characters and I think you’ll really enjoy it.

Some characters from my previous books will be appearing in this serial. If you haven’t already, check out When Lighting Strikes, to read Marie Bancroft Hamilton’s story, Summer Heat, Night Games, and Last Fall to meet more of the Bancroft Sports gang. (But you absolutely do not need to in order to enjoy Reckless Kiss. This book is 100% it’s own story!)

EPISODE ONEEPISODE TWOEPISODE THREE | Episode Four | Episode Five | Episode Six | Episode Seven | Episode Eight | Episode Nine | Episode Ten | Episode Eleven | Episode Twelve | Episode Thirteen | Episode Fourteen | Episode 15