s*x Chained

Dancing in the Dark

Chapter 15

"We won't be able to dance far," Chris warned as he jangled his chain. "But that's okay. We don't need to go far if we're in each others' arms."

Slowly, carefully, he tugged Nat's robe off her shoulders, then undid the sash. The sheer fabric rippled to the floor. Even though she stiffened, the assistant allowed him to expose her. Chris gave a sigh of appreciation when he observed the short negligee she wore beneath. His gaze traveled down her shapely legs to her feet encased in heeled slippers of silk mauve with little fluffy pom poms.

"Very nice," he complimented as he spied a key on the gold chain around her neck. "The color suits you. What's it called?"

"Cinnamon toast," she whispered as her gaze rose to his discerning eyes. Seconds passed until he held out his arms and Nat stepped forward.

Taking her hand in his, Chris snaked his other around her waist and pulled her closer still. She felt a hot blush work its way up as he sought to press his cheek against hers. Nat had never been this close to her boss before and almost melted against him, overwhelmed by the feel of his skin and the warm scent of his neck. Standing in her heels, she stood head to head with him, her eyes even with his. She had only to glance into those sparkling blue orbs to make her feel as if she'd melt right then and there in his arms.

As soon as the music for a two-step filled the air, Chris began their slow waltz in front of the cot. Nat knew she danced stiffly, but she had a hard time limbering up with his palpitating presence so near.

"Just relax," he coaxed in her ear as Alan Jackson cooed in her other. "You'll do just fine."

They took several turns back and forth until Chris paused and waited for the next song. With his hand on the small of her back, he pressed into her, pelvis to pelvis; and Nat immediately felt his long erection. She remembered the length and shape of his p***s, forever embedded in her mind the very first time she observed his naked form in the window. The heat that had pooled under her skin quickly settled between her legs; and Nat held a sudden vision of his enormous, masterful c**k opening and impaling her to the hilt.

Now Chris' hand kneaded her back as his turgid member pulsated against her. She tried to pull away but he held her tight... too tight. Nat felt her knees buckle, her whole body go limp, didn't dare breath as his mouth sought to caress hers in their first heady kiss, gradual, tender, only to increase in potency. Nat never felt anything so wonderful as the soft, smooth flesh of his lips; and instead of caving in, she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him for life, a parched, starving woman who had found an oasis in this man's embrace and fluid mouth. Nat understood now why Merrill Strang wanted him as badly as she did. Every part of the man cried out to be loved and caressed with a torrid passion.

Chris's astonishment at her quick, needy response faded to one of pleasure as his own desire grew and took over. He seemed to be experiencing his first time all over again, with the same exciting touch and sensations produced by a novice and hesitant partner. Although, the way Nat now swayed her hips against his groin proved she had quickly gotten over her timidity. Dammit! The kitten had turned into a female tom cat; and as she helped to stoke his heat with her own, Chris could hardly wait to assuage both their fires.

Slowly, he maneuvered her to the cot; but Nat held back, unsure if she wanted to pursue these surging feelings lest she lose control of the situation. Chris O'Connell could easily get her into a compromising position, pluck the key that hung around her neck, then free himself in one swift move. Would he turn her in, or would he forget this ever happened? Nat didn't know if she should take the chance... but Chris decided for her. His careful but firm hands pulled her down across the mattress while his lips pressed moist kisses along her neck. Soon his fingers circled her n*****s beneath the satin fabric, then cupped each breast. Nat couldn't control the quaking of her entire body, didn't want to—not until Chris began to gather the folds of her gown to expose her nakedness beneath. She reached for his arm to stop him.

"No!" she protested weakly as his mouth sought hers. "Not... this...now!"

"When?" he murmured against her lips. "Why not give in? You want this as much as I do. I won't hurt you. I won't try to get away if that's worrying you."

Nat struggled to move from under him. "This is a mistake. I don't know what I was thinking." Once she found herself away from his grasp, she breathed again, slow and easy; then moved from the bed and backed further away. "Please forgive me, Chris. I must have been out of my mind. I'm nothing more than a desperate, lonely..."

"Wait! Please, Nat, don't put yourself down like that." He propped himself on his elbow and looked at her with a gauze of tenderness in his eyes. "We all do unusual things when we feel up against the wall. You just need to talk it out, confide in someone, someone you feel comfortable with. Besides a boss, I would hope you can think of me as a friend and a confidant."

After donning her robe and cinching it tight, Nat placed her stool a respectable distance and sat. She found it difficult to gaze at him directly. "I... I just don't have any experience. I don't know how to show my feelings, and I always thought no one cared that I had any."

"I care, Nat." His voice sounded so sincere, so encouraging. "What about your family? Didn't they give you any support?"

Nat sniffed, indignant. Talking about her family life always hardened her enough so she could look outside herself with an impartial eye; not exactly in self-pity but to try and understand how others viewed her and her situation. Besides, she always preferred to see things through someone else's eyes.

"I didn't have a home life," she stated simply. "My father left us when I turned eight, and then my mother took to drinking until that's all she did. So, I was raised by my Aunt Meg. She wasn't exactly cruel but she wasn't demonstrative either. She never offered a hug of encouragement, let alone any other type of affection."

"That's cruelty in a way," Chris commented, "and you feel damaged, betrayed, even cheated. I can understand that."

"How?" Nat spat. "You have a family to go home to whenever you like."

"Out of duty," he added and sat straight. "My parents were never very demonstrative either. I had to learn to express myself simply by being me. You can too, Nat. Don't give up on yourself. I'm not going to tell you how pretty or how nice you are. You should know that about yourself by now."

Pretty? No one had ever referred to her as pretty. Nat sat forward. "Tell me, Chris, tell me what it's like to feel loved."