Warmth

Anabella shivered as she pulled her scarlet peacoat tighter around her in a vain attempt to block out the bitter cold of the early evening. She hurried down the old cobblestone street illuminated by the soft glow of historically accurate gas lamps along the road. Although the sun had barely set, the sidewalks quickly filled with fellow pedestrians seeking to kick off their Friday night. She shook her head, muttering softly as the heels of her riding boots clicked against the sidewalk. She shook her head, muttering softly as the heels of her riding boots clicked against the sidewalk.

"Oh, Charleston sounds perfect," she mimicked herself. "It never gets cold in Charleston, not to mention the city is old, beautiful, full of life, and by the sea. It would be perfect!"

She snorted as she remembered her brash decision to move across the country from Colorado after a nasty breakup. She wanted to get as far away from her ex-fiance and the cold as possible. Although she'd gone to law school in Colorado and spent many years after, she was still unacclimated to the harsh winters. She'd seen pictures and read numerous articles highlighting the city of Charleston as one of the friendliest and most beautiful cities in the world. She'd always wanted to live near the ocean, and after finding her ex in bed with her best friend, it seemed like the perfect time to get a new start. Typically, the winters were pretty mild in Charleston, but this winter, although in its infancy, was unusually harsh.

A sigh escaped her as her frustration with the weather slowly gave way to thankfulness. The move to Charleston was probably the best thing she could have done for herself. Just days after arriving in the city, she'd become enamored with the people, food, and culture. She'd fallen in love with a newly renovated pink cottage in a row of brightly colored houses in the heart of the historic French Quarter and was elated to discover it was for rent. Her career had seen a boost at one of the top law firms in the state, where she'd quickly earned respect and friendship of her co-workers and fellow counselors. And, of course, there was him. Tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed him.

Naturally, she was cautious at first when they'd literally bumped into one another during a hectic Saturday afternoon in the Old Market. She'd been in the city for six months, still licking her wounds. She'd wandered aimlessly through the crowd. As tall as he was, she'd never figured out how she didn't see him. He'd caught her easily when the collision knocked her off balance. The power and confidence he carried, along with the light scent of sandalwood that clung to him, assaulted her senses. She glanced up, and up, into cobalt blue eyes as he spoke, his southern charm enough to rival Rhett Butler. It was impossible to turn him down when he'd offered to buy her another box of chocolate truffles after the one she'd been carrying crashed to the ground spilling her spoils. Little did she know at that moment that he would use all that power, confidence, and charm to awaken something inside her she'd never realized existed.

Smiling at the memory, Anabella retrieved her keys from her purse as she turned down her quiet alley and walked up the stairs to her front door. Stepping inside the welcoming warmth of her home, she noticed the amber glow of light and the smell of burning wood coming from the living room. The rest of the house remained dark. Smiling, she removed her coat and hung it along with her purse and briefcase on the coat rack. She deposited her keys on the small table as she walked past the coat rack down the hall toward the living room. There she found the living room awash with light and warmth from a roaring fire. Unable to help herself, she quickly moved to the fireplace holding her hands out to the heat. She stopped short just before reaching the crackling blaze as her eyes fell upon the single deep red rose lying atop the mantle. Carefully, she retrieved the rose, closing her eyes as she brought it to her nose, inhaling the scent as bliss filled her.

"How was your day, baby girl?" a deep, whiskey-smooth voice called behind her.

"Infinitely better, "she replied, unable to keep the smile from her face as she turned to face him.Instantly her heart sped up, and butterflies found their way into her tummy as they always did when she was around him. Damn, if he wasn't six feet and four inches of the very definition of sexy. His chocolate hair was expertly cut into a fade that left dark, voluminous waves longer at the top. His five o'clock shadow darkened his angular jaw showcasing his straight nose and full sensual lips. Gunmetal gray slacks and a navy blue shirt encased his muscular frame, and the firelight glowed on his tanned skin. He walked towards her, his long stride confident and sure, bespeaking of a man who was more than comfortable in his own skin and reveled in his manhood. His walk was predatory, his blue gaze never leaving hers as he set his glass of brandy on the coffee table. Sexual energy and power seeped from his very pores.

Pausing in front of her, he reached out to capture her chin between his thumb and index finger, lifting her gaze to his. "Are you warm enough, princess?" he asked, his gaze sparkling like sapphires in the firelight.

A shiver made its way down her spine, just as it always did when he addressed her in such a way. A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard.

"Yes, Sir," she replied, her voice breathy as she reveled in his touch. "I am now."

"Good," he whispered, lowering his lips to hers. It was less of a kiss and more of a claiming as his tongue explored the depth and taste of her mouth. He kissed her thoroughly, taking her breath away and breathing his desire into her. Her lips felt cold and swollen when he lifted his head, his stormy eyes taking her in.

He released her chin, turned away from her, retrieved his brandy, and settled into a plush leather armchair across the room. Crossing one ankle over the opposite knee, he took a sip of the brandy and balanced the glass on the armrest.

"Now, strip for me and tell me about your day, "he commanded, his voice even and smooth.

"Yes, Sir," she replied, replacing the rose back onto the mantle.

Turning back to him, she began recounting the day's events as she reached behind her and unzipped her dark teal high-waisted pencil skirt. Pushing the material over her heart-shaped hips and thighs, she revealed the lace tops of her black stockings and matching black and pink lace garters and thong.

He observed her, taking in every word as she told him of her secretary's latest fiasco with "boyfriend-of-the-week, "her lunch meeting with a new high-profile client, and her boss's pressure on her to please said client at all costs. His eyes followed her hands as her fingers undid the jeweled buttons of her black silk shirt, revealing her bra's black and pink lace. She told him how the drama had escalated between two opposing lawyers in the office as she reached behind herself and unhooked her bra, sliding the straps from her shoulders and freeing her full breast.

"In all, it was an ok day," she concluded as she slid her panties from her hips, leaving behind the garters and stockings.

"I'm glad to hear that," he replied with a satisfied nod.

She smiled, her heart soaring at seeing him pleased. Her smile grew wider when she noticed the prominent bulge tenting his slacks. Eyes fastened on his crotch, she licked her lips as she sank to her knees, lowering her head and resting her palms face up on her thighs. Patiently she waited, her heart beating wildly. Her body hummed with desire and anticipation.

The blaze of the fire warmed her skin, and the occasional firewood popping broke the room's silence. She waited as the seconds turned to minutes. Finally, she heard leather creaking as he rose from the chair. She felt the vibration and listened to the echo of his heavy footsteps through the hardwood floor as he approached her. He stopped just before her, the toes of his perfectly polished black shoes coming into her sight.

He bent slightly, reaching out to her head. His fingers wrapped around the brass hairpin, holding her bun in place, and slid it free of her hair. A wild mass of blue-black curls tumbled down from the top of her head, creating a cascade shrouding her face and shoulders like a thick curtain. She sucked in a breath as the tip of her curls danced across her hardened sensitive nipples.

"Good girl," he praised, tucking the rose-shaped hairpin into his back pocket. His words sent warmth and wetness to her core and caused her nipples to tighten near the point of pain.

"Touch me, please," she silently begged, her body craving his touch and the exquisite pleasure and pain that came with it. Instead, she said, "How was your day, Sir?"

"Your Sir had a good day as well, princess," he answered, gently running his fingers through her curls. Instinctively she leaned into his touch, nearly purring. "In fact," he continued. "You occupied my thoughts much of my day today, so much it distracted me sometimes."

She smiled, brushing a kiss against the palm of his hand, inhaling his scent deeply.

"Stand up, Princess, and turn around, "he commanded, his hand returning to her scalp and tightening in her curls. He gave a firm tug upwards, emphasizing the command, while the other hand reached into his pocket, retrieving a long piece of bright red rope. She stood as she was told, presenting him with her back. He released her hair and groaned softly, allowing his appreciation to be known.

"I love your beautiful ass," he commented as he traced a finger over a rounded cheek. Without warning, a hard slap came across the cheek, nearly knocking her off balance. She couldn't contain the yelp of surprise that escaped from her throat.

"Hands behind your back, lace your fingers, elbows touching. Up on your toes," he commanded, waiting patiently for her to assume the position.

He assessed her position with a keen eye before sending another slap across her bottom, so hard tears sprang to her eyes, and she stumbled again.

"Posture, Princess. Straighten your back," he commanded, irritation in his voice.

"Yes, Sir," she replied, her bottom on fire from his contact. Going back to her tiptoes, she assumed the required position. She straightened her back so her shoulder blades squeezed together and her breast stuck out full and high.

"Much better," he praised as he began tying her elbows together, working his way down to her wrists, the crimson of the rope a stark contrast to her dark skin. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes, and concentrating on maintaining balance on her toes. When he finally tied the ends of the rope around her wrist, he paused to double-check her circulation before moving on.

"Turn around, on your toes," he commanded. Carefully, she turned on her toes, her head down, her hair again curling around her face.

"Now, feet apart. Do you want to know what I thought about, Princess?" he asked, watching as she widened her stance.

"Yes, Sir," she replied, adjusting her stance, her eyes on his shoes.

Suddenly, a hand found its way back in her hair and tightened into a fist, jerking her head back and forcing her eyes to meet his. "I thought about how hard I am going to make that sweet pussy of yours come for me tonight," replied his voice a dark rumble.

Without warning, his free hand found its way to her hairless mound. He growled a low approval as his fingers met considerable wetness. She whimpered as he probed her folds, seeking out her most sensitive spot. Her knees buckled slightly when he made contact.

"Oh no, no, no," he replied, his blue eyes blazing into her dark chocolate eyes. "Stay on your toes, Princess. Stay on your toes while I play with your pussy."

"Yes, Sir," she panted, her breath leaving her body.

"Your practically dripping, Princess. Tell me how much you missed me today," he commanded, his lips a breath from hers as he slid two fingers into her pussy, his thumb expertly circling her clit, a hand still fisted in her hair.

"I thought about the shower this morning, and I missed your touch today," she panted, her mind struggling to form words as he teased her clit and massaged her G-spot. She shuffled her weight in the fight to keep her hips from rocking into his hand and her balance on her toes. She silently chanted the commands of her ballet teacher in her mind to help herself, but he would not let her attention slip from him.

"And where did you miss my touch?" he asked, closing the small gap of space between their lips to bite her full lower lip.

"E-everywhere," her words were cut short by a moan. "Especially there, Sir."

"Here, princess?" he replied, moving his hand harder and faster.

She cried out, eyes wide as she nearly danced on her toes from his touch. Heat spiraled at her core and shot to her spine and breast. The tight circles on her clit seized her body, causing her to jerk against his hands. She cried out once more.

"Oh yes, definitely here. Stay on your toes, Princess," he warned, biting her lip again. "Eyes with mine."

The sensations swarmed her and a throbbing burn pulsed through her. He'd snatched control of her body, using it as an instrument like a masterful musician. She felt her muscles tighten around his fingers and throughout her body. She wouldn't last much longer, and they both knew it. "S-Sir," she pleaded, her voice straining.

"Yes, darlin'?" he answered casually, arching a dark brow, his deep voice rolling over her

"Please," she pleaded, her calves burning with the strain of maintaining her posture and fighting off her orgasm.

"Please what?" he asked, nibbling her lip once more.

"Please, Sir, may I come?!" she blurted out in a rush of air.

"No, snow princess," he replied, moving his hand faster.

She cried out in a mixture of pleasure and frustration. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails biting into the palms of her hand.

"Please," she begged, her eyes pleading and her skin holding a slight sheen from her efforts.

"I know, darlin'. I know it's hard, but hold on a little longer. I am not ready for you to cum yet," he replied, pulling her hair harder and craning her head further. His lips closed on the pulse at her throat as he began kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there. A strangled scream sounded in the room as his fingers pinched her clit while his teeth bit her neck.

"God! Please," she sobbed, swaying against him, shuffling her feet to keep her balance. "Please, Sir, Please!!"

He lifted his head, his eyes finding hers, a slight smile playing across his lips. "That's it, baby girl. Your Sir loves to hear you beg, "he growled. "You can come for me when I countdown from ten."

"Sir," she pleaded. Jerking her head back, he leaned to rest his forehead against hers.

"Ten. Nine. Eight," he counted, his voice a low growl. "Stay on your toes, Princess. Don't you dare lose balance."

She cried out, feeling the force of her orgasm building inside her.

"Seven, six. You'd better hold it," he warned. "Five, four, three."

Her eyes fluttered closed as the tide of orgasm coiled within her.

"Don't you dare fucking close your eyes, or I will stop right now and turn that lovely chocolate ass black and blue," he admonished, jerking hard on her hair. Instantly her eyes snapped back open, and her teeth sank into her bottom lip from the strain.

"Two," he continued showing no mercy with his sensual assault to her core. "One. Now! Cum for me! Right now!"

At his words alone, the damn holding back her orgasm broke loose. She screamed, her body jerking violently as her orgasm blazed through her, her juices coating his hand and wrist. Her body jolted, her muscles seeming to catch fire. She swayed as the intensity of her orgasm eased. He caught her easily to him, his body supporting hers as one arm wrapped around her locking her to him. Lifting his hand covered in her juices, he brought it to his lips and licked them clean.

"Mmm, good girl," he praised, savoring her sweetness as her cries died to soft whimpers. "But I am not done with you yet."

Bending slightly, he repositioned his arms and shifted her weight, quickly lifting her over his shoulder as he stood and exited the living room. Taking the stairs two at a time, his long strides rapidly brought them to the master bedroom.

He tossed her onto the king-sized four-poster bed and flipped her onto her stomach. "Face down and ass up, darlin'," he replied, making short work of his clothing.

His words penetrated the sexual haze lodged in her brain, and she positioned herself just in time to feel the bed dip under his weight as one hand grasped her hip and the other found its way to her hair again.

"I have no intention of being gentle tonight, princess," he replied, wrapping her hair around his fist and her cheek buried into the mattress. He leaned over her shoulder, bringing his lips to her ear. "I need to let my monster out," he whispered before biting her ear.

He settled between her legs behind her. He gave her no warning before jerking hard on her hair and brutally burying himself to the hilt within her. His growl filled the room as he invaded her tightness. She screamed at the sensation of his thickness surging deep within her silken sheath. She cried out, unable to catch her breath as his hips thrust powerfully deep within her, giving her body no time to adjust. The pleasure of his cock mixed with the pain in her shoulders and scalp, creating an intoxicating mixture. His hands released her hip to grab two handfuls of her hair. His thrusts quickened, his hips snapping savagely against her. His growls mixed with her cries as he rode her with hard, punishing thrusts.

"You love this, don't you, princess?" he growled, tugging hard on her hair. "Say you love this cock!"

"Yes!! I love this cock!" she cried out, the pain biting into her scalp.

"Who's pussy is this?" he demanded, his member ravaging her sex with its steely thickness.

Her mind briefly left as she began undulating against him, her cries spurring him on.

He jerked at her hair, his hand coming down hard against her ass. "I said, 'Who's fucking pussy is this?'", he demanded.

"Yours!" she screamed. "Sir, it's yours!!"

"Then come with me, "he demanded. "I want to hear you scream."

And then he spoke no more, giving his total concentration to the task at hand. He shifted his weight, no longer pulling her head back but now shoving her cheek into the bed with one hand and bracing his weight on the bed with his free hand. He rode her mercilessly, their hunger for each other consuming them both. He felt the tension in the base of his cock and his spine as her walls clamped tightly, quivering around him. Her desperate cries of pleasure were muffled by the bed as she welcomed his assault.

"That's it, darlin'," he encouraged. "Tighten it up and come for me!"

With a cry of pleasure, her orgasm shot through her body, and he echoed. Together they came, their cries mingling into a symphony of carnal pleasure as their bodies shot to the stars and shattered into millions of pieces. Slowly they returned to the Earth, their hunger momentarily appeased. She felt the bed shift with his weight as he nearly collapsed on the bed beside her. He worked to slow his breathing as he undid the rope from her arms and tossed it to the bedroom floor. With a deep breath and heavy sigh, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. She allowed her body to melt into the warmth and safety of his. She closed her eyes and sighed contently as he wrapped his arms around her still trembling body. His fingers found their way into her hair and kissing her forehead, he gently massaged her burning scalp.

"Mmm, such a good girl, darlin'. You make your Sir so happy," he whispered, his lips against her forehead.

She snuggled closer to him, wanting to bury herself in his skin's warmth. Her heart soared at his confession. She'd always considered herself an independent woman, and many considered her a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom. However, when it came to him, to this man who so lovingly held her in his arms, she wanted nothing more than to please and make him happy, giving control entirely to him. The freedom she found kneeling at his feet after hours of battle in the courtroom was indescribable. He understood her in ways she'd never imagined and gave her more than she'd ever dreamed, and for that, she would gladly serve him, seeking to please him in every way.

She smiled, nuzzling her cheek against his chest. "I'm glad because you make me happy too."

He kissed her forehead once again. "That's what Sirs do for their warrior princesses," he replied, lightly tugging at a raven curl. "Keep them happy, safe, protected, and in line."

She laughed. She was about to make a witty remark that probably would have earned her a spanking when a growl from her tummy stopped her short.

He looked down at her, one eyebrow cocked as he studied her. "I suppose I'd better feed you," he said with a slight grin. "You're going to need your energy. I'm still not done with you, Princess. I think you'll love my she-crab soup."

"I don't think I've ever had that," she replied thoughtfully, lifting her head to meet his gaze.

"Why my dear baby girl, "he replied, deliberately thickening his smooth southern accent, a perfect rendition of Rhett Butler. "You cannot spend another second in Charleston without having she-crab soup. It naturally warms that luscious body and your soul."

She laughed, wiggling up his body to nuzzle her nose against his neck. "Oh no, Sir," she smiled, placing a butterfly kiss against his pulse. "It's you that warms my body and soul."