Toni's Dilemma

Excerpt

It almost came down to the snap of a wishbone.

The problem began the morning Peter told her Rick was coming to Christmas dinner that evening. Toni had been lying in their four-poster bed, idly rubbing her body. The remains of her gardenia perfume scented the air. At Peter's announcement, she sat up. "Rick? I don't want to see Rick. He probably hates me for leaving him."

Peter put his muscular hand on her breast. "Seeing him will be fine," he said. "I've smoothed over any misunderstanding. Besides, it's his first month back from Afghanistan. You don't want the poor man to eat alone, do you? He's got no family nearby." He began to toy with her nipple.

"I don't want to have him here." She pushed his hand off her breast and started to get up. She'd have to find a way to convince Peter to uninvite Rick.

He grabbed her and pulled her back to the bed. "You promised you'd obey me when you moved in." His dark eyes pinned her down. "Rick is coming." He smiled, and she could see the devil in his grin. "And so are you. Satisfaction will make you more obedient."

He pulled her close and tweaked her nipple, sending a spasm to her clit. She ran her fingers over his close-cropped gray hair, urging him closer. He complied, replacing his fingers with his mouth, His ardent sucking built an ache in her left breast, and she thrust her hips upward, begging for relief. He trailed his hand in an S from her right nipple to the shaved mound between her legs before parting the folds to tease the hard nub. Heat intensified as he tugged and caressed it, sending waves of pleasure that erased any thought of disobedience... or of Rick.

Every muscle tightened, and she longed for release, fighting her orgasm while Peter continued his assault on her breast. He switched his mouth to her other nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth until her body spasmed with pleasure. But still she kept herself from giving into a final release. He'd trained her well.

But coming was all her mind was capable of focusing on. "Please," she whispered.

A few more hard sucks on her nipple and a twitch on her clit.

She moaned.

Finally he lifted his head and said, "Come."

She exploded.

The ebb of her orgasm was greeted with the thrust of his cock. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, pulling him into her. "No," he said, and she released him. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head. A second wave began to build in her body. She looked into his eyes as he'd taught her, watching his expression, holding off on her second orgasm until she received permission to come. She concentrated on the feel of his cock pushing inside her, clenching his organ with her muscles and pulling him deeper into her. His eyes narrowed in concentration, and she began to squeeze harder. He began to pant, and then gave a brief nod. She let herself go, reveling in the pulsing beat of his release.

He lay on top of her for a few moments before he shifted his strong, sweaty body off hers. "Time to go make dinner." His eyes were closed and his lips upturned.

She lay back in the salty sweat of their lovemaking. Should she bring up Rick again? Damn it, why had she fallen for her ex-lover's boss?

She glanced at his strong-jawed face from the corner of her eye. He wasn't going to change his mind. She'd have to figure out some way to deal with Rick.

"Turkey," he said, his eyes still shut. His hand snaked over and tweaked her nipple.

Sighing, she got up.

"No bra today."

"But..."

"No bra. Now go."

Oh good. Not only was her ex-lover coming to dinner, but her double Ds were going to be bouncing in front of his face.

"That's not fair to Rick," she said.

"It's all part of the plan."

"What plan?"

He lifted his head and propped it up with his crooked arm. "You'll have to trust me."

Did she?

She'd been a bookish freelance CPA who handled several corporations in the Philadelphia bedroom community of Harper's Grove when she started dating Peter. She'd taken care to dress conservatively, minimizing her bust line and developing a glare to force straying male eyes back to the business at hand.

As she looked at herself in the mirror, she could no longer see the dowdy accountant. According to Peter's wishes, her curly brunette hair reached her shoulders, her angular face shown with light make-up, and her nails were polished. Her office shoes bore four-inch heels, and her skirts were short. Instead of chiding men for staring, she invited a look with low-cut, clingy blouses.

She sighed and put her mascara tube down. A long day lay ahead. She didn't want to go back to who she was before Peter uncovered her submissive longings and guided her into a more satisfied life. She'd just have to put on a happy face and get through the day.

Barefoot, she made her way to the kitchen. Peter had helped her prep on Christmas Eve, before they'd exchanged gifts. She loved the sapphire earrings he'd given her, but none of the boxes had held the gift she really hoped for--a collar.

She was emptying the dishwasher a few hours later when she heard low male murmurs from the living room. Taking in a deep breath, she slapped a smile on her face and sashayed into the living room, her braless breasts swaying against her deep blue silk blouse, her short floral skirt swishing.

"Wow," said Rick. He gave her a chaste kiss on her cheek, and then stepped back to look her up and down. "I like the look. You've done wonders with her."

What the hell does that mean?