Could Have Been Me Pt. 02

They sat like that for a long minute, breathing, touching, staring into one another's eyes. Then, she disentangled herself from him and went back to the passenger seat.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His house was big.

Like cry your eyes out because you'll never be able to afford something like this big. Morgan's mouth hung open, not believing her eyes. It was massive, set far enough back off of the highway so wandering eyes would never think to look, with large windows and an expansive yard. Clearly, the man had money and Morgan was dating the wrong guy.

He pulled up his long graveled driveway that circled around to the front door. His house was very modern looking with a flat roof and tall walls. From the floor to ceiling windows, Morgan could see all the way through from the front wall to the backyard that housed numerous weeping trees overlooking a fairy garden with stone benches and a matching fire pit. Man, she could spend hours out there, curled up with her favorite book or even...Ian.

She flushed profusely and exited his vehicle after he pulled into a garage that had both several cars and crossovers occupying it.

He led her into a side door, heading towards the back of the house where a set of stairs took up a wall. She walked mutely behind him, memorizing the contours and corners of his house. For later perhaps. Up the stairs they went and over a landing that overlooked the center of the bottom floor, to a room that seemed to be the entire east wing.

He pushed her inside then forced her to a lavish California king sized bed of white and red sheets with a dark blue comforter. It was very bachelor-esque with minimal furnishings and a small closet. But, what caught her eye, had her heart racing.

"Punishment. And your apology," he pointed over her shoulder to a set of bondage ropes laced at the corners of his bed.

A rip had her gasping. He had torn her shirt off from the back and tossed it to the side, revealing a pink bra. Deftly, his fingers worked that free and out she spilled, standing with her bare back to him, topless with jeans on.

"Take these off," he ordered in her ear and she quietly obliged, removing her jeans basically both legs at the same time, along with her nude undies and glasses, tossing them in to a heap at the foot of his bed.

Oh, this had always been a fantasy of hers. But whenever she expressed that to Drake, he simply shrugged her off and just ignored her. She wanted to be taken, to be controlled, to be forced. To be helpless as a man had his way with her. Well, maybe not too forceful but enough to where she still felt pleasure.

"Bed, now."

Nodding, she crawled onto the bed, knees on the mattress, sitting up. He lightly touched her bottom, massaging it before he smacked it, sending a loud thwack throughout the room. She winced but didn't yelp or say anything. Instead she bit her lip. Another slap followed by one, two, three more before he pushed her onto her back, pulling her wrists above her head. He tied each one firmly yet loosely making sure to not cause discomfort. He then went to her ankles, spacing them out enough to where she was in the spread eagle position.

Walking over to a set of drawers, he opened one up and pulled out something long and red. It looked shiny and smooth and that was just how it felt as he draped the cloth over Morgan's face to cover her yes. Now, every sense was amplified and she felt vulnerable.

With all sound and sights gone, the room went silent. Was he making her apologize by just letting her hang here, tied up like a prisoner so he could do Lord knows what? She shuddered at the thought of what he might do.

Feather light touches here and there, all over her midsection and breasts, down to her thighs and up to her neck. Some lingered over her hardened nipples while one touch swiped over her clit. She jumped and jerked, pulling against the binds that held her fast. Another touch and then another had her wrists nearly bleeding from her moving.

Then, a harsh breath was near her ear. "You left me on the side of the highway," he whispered, voice hoarse and thick with want. He pinched her clit, this time with his fingers. "I was still hard and needed to fuck you again." Another pinch and she cried out. Though she couldn't see him, she knew he was angled over her body where his erection ground into her hip; she felt it through the rough material of his pants. "You ignored me for months," he nipped her left earlobe. "Made me wait to feel you wrapped around me again and now," he clamped two fingers down on her clit and rubbed vigorously. "I'm going to torture the come out of you to make you pay for what you did. You'll leave here needing more and wanting me," he viciously promised and sucked her lobe into his mouth, using his teeth to roll the meaty flesh back and forth.

She squirmed and opened her mouth in a silent scream. A soft sound came out but he pressed a hand to her mouth.

"Shh. You'll be quiet. If you scream or make a sound I will stop. Understand?"

She nodded quietly and whimpered biting a lip. He continued at her muteness and she wanted to cry out so badly, she just held it in. She panted and held her breath, willing that orgasm to rear its head. But, just as she was so close, he pulled away.

She grunted and he slapped her face. "I said no sound."

It wasn't painful but it wasn't soft either. Nodding again, she let him do whatever he wanted.

There was a rummaging sound of things clinking together and then the bed dipped under his weight and something wet and rough landed on her stomach. A tongue, perhaps? It was cold as well, like freezing but it had her overheated body begging for more. It slid up her belly, over the area where her rib cage ended to the place between her breasts. His tongue circled over her nipples, pausing to suckle lightly and equally on each. She gasped and he paused. He then slapped her thigh before slapping the side of her left breast.

She quieted down and he continued licking his way up her sternum to her throat, the little hollow where he spent a little bit of time in. Then, up one side and the other before he reached her chin to her mouth. He kissed her, using his tongue to dip low into her mouth, nearly reaching the back of her own tongue. His mouth was cold, tongue smooth. He deposited something; an ice cube fell into her mouth. She took it greedily from him and they swapped it back and forth until it became nothing more than its first form: water.

He sat beside her and she could feel his cock pressing into her ribs. They continued to kiss for quite some time until his hands feathered over body once more. Then, they stopped and there was a pop. A wine bottle? And suddenly, something cool was running over her skin, down her tummy to her thighs and between her breasts. She shivered but elected not to make a peep. Whatever it was fizzed as it made its way down her sides to pool in the sheets below her.

The lip of the bottle parted her open lips and she drank, feeling the bite and dryness from maybe a white wine entering her throat. It was nice and aged. She knew she would be sticky later but this was really turning her on. He took away the bottle and she heard him gulp some down.

Then, his lips ravaged hers again and he tasted just like the wine, his tongue circling hers and creating a cacophony of aged grapes and saliva. God, he tasted divine.

Before she could even think, his lips ripped from hers and she felt the head of his cock trying to gain entrance into her cunt. She whimpered at his size and he paused, waiting for her to grow silent. Even though he had been in her not an hour earlier, he would still stretch her. He rubbed his cock over her clit, teasing her endlessly. One hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing lightly, not enough to cut off her air but enough to cause wonderful pleasure.

She was close again and he knew it. So, he pulled back and untied her, forcing her to turn onto her front. He then retied her wrists so she couldn't move along with loosely binding her ankles to keep her in an upright position. "I want to try something," he muttered, probably more to himself than to her.

He rammed her from behind and she wasn't expecting that. She loved the doggy style position and he was pounding her perfectly, pressing her face into the bed. Then, he pulled back and the head of his cock was probing another entrance. One much tighter and more reluctant.

"No," she gasped but he only smacked her ass.

"Quiet. You owe me."

She felt him reach forward, the blindfold still over her eyes, and he gently massaged her clit. She moaned and allowed him to press further into the tight muscle where he stopped due to her lack of listening. It was unusual but not super uncomfortable. It was very snug though. And she sucked in a breath as he pressed in even more, about halfway with his girth and length.

With him paying attention to her clit, she barely noticed the soft rocking motion he generated. It felt...amazing. She rolled her eyes behind the silk tie and bit at the bunched up comforter. Thought it was starting to grow uncomfortable, she was beginning to enjoy it.

He went further in and a fire flared within her bottom. She sucked in another harsh breath and he paused, allowing her to grow accustomed to his size. She had never tried anal before other than the little bit of play Ian had experienced with during their tryst.

They sat like that for a few minutes and slowly, the pain ebbed away to pleasure building within her core, something like she never felt before. He pumped slowly, sliding in and out ever so slightly, creating an incredible feeling to surface. His movements picked up and she had the comforter nearly in her throat, it felt that great.

His fingers on her clit squeezed harder and faster, matching his quickening thrusts. She felt a pressure building in her middle, coming from her cunt, reaching around to her clit, needing to explode. She pressed back against him, urging his thrusts to go faster. He obliged and soon, she was holding her cries as he pounded into her ass, knowing that if she made a noise, he would stop and so would her orgasm.

It hurt somewhat but it also felt sensational.

He was jarring her back and forth, her head nearing the solid wood headboard as he pumped into her. His grunts echoed around the room and she met him with her rear, pressing back against him with each pump. She released herself after one final thrust of his cock, an unbelievable orgasm overtaking her entire body.

She came so hard that she finally screamed and he jerked one last time before groaning and pulling out, emptying himself on her back. Hot spurts landed above the two dimples, sluicing down her skin. His fingers still massaged her clit, riding out the rest of her incredible orgasm. She sighed and was still moving her hips back and forth.

After a moment or two of him gripping her waist, he untied her and flipped her over, kissing her deeply. She felt him running down into her crack but she didn't care. She liked this. And could get used to this kind of fucking. She smiled against his lips and he smiled back, their tongues mingling with one another.

He moved away and took off the blindfold. His face was just inches away and his grin was infectious. She giggled when he grabbed her to wrap her up in his arms. He was nearly naked save for a set of red boxer briefs he sported, showcasing his impressive package that was now semi-hard. His warm chest was to her back, an arm over her side, an ankle between her calves.

The two just cuddled as the night passed on and sleep overtook them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgan awoke to something wet down there.

Sunlight filtered in through the massive windows, lighting her up like birthday candles. She glanced down and saw Ian with his tongue on her clit and a wicked smirk on his handsome face. In this perfect lighting, she could see his face more clearly.

She could see the slight aging around his eyes, the long lashes that created shadows over his high cheekbones, the sky blue eyes peering at her. His hair was blonde and a little longer than the last time she saw him. Which, she noticed, had streaks of light silver at the temples, giving him a "Mr. Fantastic" look.

He was still hot as hell with a straight nose and full lips. His jaw was hard and square and it was working her to a morning orgasm. She opened her mouth to cry out as it built within her. She arched her back, clutching at the sheets as he ate her out, using his tongue to swirl around her clit and to dip inside of her. She moaned his name and squeezed his head with her thighs.

He continued his onslaught and she finally let loose, coming all over his tongue.

She came down from her high to notice he was standing with a boner, naked, cock jutting out from his pelvis beautifully. "Let's get you cleaned up," he held out a hand.

So, this was a man who could take control and be rough when he wanted to but was still a total sweetheart in the bedroom. Hmm, this could be something. She let him lead her into his modern bathroom where he turned her around on the concrete countertop and kissed her roughly. He picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, immediately impaling her as he used the counter for balance.

He thrusted into her and used his tongue to scrape across her teeth. She didn't notice him reaching behind them to turn on the massive shower with clear doors and stone flooring. Steam filled the entire room and he promptly stepped in, taking her with him, cock still buried deep inside of her.

He pressed her back against the cold stone, still kissing her all the way. Then, he released her and turned her around, pressing into her from behind and sucked on her neck, the water running down to his cock to lubricate the process. He reached to her front and gripped her shoulders, pumping slowly into her, creating long, deep thrusts.

She pressed back into him, her back to his chest and moaned as he continued fucking her. She brought her hands up and over to cling to his neck before she slid them down his arms that held her front. She clawed at his forearms and he pumped harder, still keeping his lips on her neck. Their flesh slapped against one another, his thighs to her thighs, the water creating suctioning sounds.

He groaned in her ear and she cried out when he reached down to massage her clit. She came again, hard on his cock, milking him for all he was worth. He halted and bucked his hips, seed spilling deeply into her.

They stood like that and she kissed him, craning her neck to grasp his mouth. The water ran over them, mixing with their bodily fluid before they untangled and began washing one another. She scrubbed at his back, occasionally kissing him while he washed her hair, massaging her scalp and cleaning her up well.

Once done, they exited and made out some more. God, he was such a great kisser.

Finally, they ceased once Morgan's stomach growled angrily. He wrapped a robe around her and himself before taking her down to the kitchen with him where he made her pancakes and eggs and bacon.

Not even Drake had cooked for her. Like ever. He normally would make her cook and she didn't like that. She loved to cook but only for pleasure not because she had to.

They lounged about in his large living room with a huge TV and watched movies all day long, just them two wrapped up in one another. She had her legs on top of his lap and he had a hand on her exposed thigh. She really liked this. Though, she didn't know Ian too well, she could enjoy this even if it was for the time being.

"This is nice," she commented after he made them some tea and they sipped it, sitting out in his little fairy like garden. The weather was warm but not uncomfortable or stuffy. "Listen, I'm sorry I never responded. I wasn't sure of how I felt..." she trailed off, listening to his heartbeat.

They were snuggled up on a wooden bench, her head on his chest, his arms around her. "I get it. I do. When my wife passed away, I was too afraid to move on and still am."

Morgan pulled away. "You must have really loved her, huh?"

He looked down at her. "I did. We were high school sweethearts, you know."

"Oh?" Morgan cocked a brow and sat up, straddling his thigh to gain better leverage on the tiny seating. "How-how old are you?" She stammered the question after he started moving her back and forth, creating friction between her legs. She moaned and closed her eyes, the sensation wonderful and completely random.

He smiled. "Old enough to be your father, that's for sure, Miss Daniels," he winked at her.

Wait. She halted his movements with her hands on his. Hold the motherfucking phone. Ian Rhett. Ian. Rhett. "Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no," she leapt up and began pacing around on the small stone path. Ian Rhett and Associates. The lawyer who won the case against her father many years ago when his business was booming. He had been sued for copyright reasons on an architectural plan that wasn't his own. Well, it was, but some dirty politics had taken place and he lost almost everything. Thankfully, her father was a smart man and had plenty saved up for cushion.

And he was the reason Ian had this house and money. Ian was an unlawful lawyer, having protected the city's notorious ex-gang leader Niko Vestrov, a Russian immigrant who specialized in arms dealing with various mafias around the country. He was now older, in his late seventies but his eldest daughter still ran the family business while his only son wanted nothing to do with his father. "What's wrong?" He asked, his brows drawing close to his deceitful eyes.

God, why did her heart want him so badly but her mind knew better. "You," she whispered. "Y-you ruined my father!" She cried out and backed away from him slowly, hands up as if he were dangerous. Tears threatened to fall as the memories flooded her mind. The court rooms, Ian's smug face in the plaintiff's section while her father sat with his head hanging in the defendant's corner. Because of Ian, her parents had gotten divorced, their marriage crumbling under the stress and weight of the trial. Her relationship with her father changed immensely, with her nearly despising the man. "My family," she whispered and stood there, shoulders shaking.

"Morgan," Ian calmly warned and crossed over to her. He took her by the elbow and led her inside his house and she let him, unsure of the roiling and mixed emotions inside of her.

He sat her down at his bar that ended just by the backdoor. It was cemented, giving the kitchen a nice modern and sleek look. While she just sat there, he went to his pantry and started rummaging around. She should leave, she knew that. But why couldn't she? After all, this man destroyed her father's career thankful he still had some faithful clients who took him up on his offers.

She sat there, a single tear streaming down her cheek when Ian came back with two cups of black tea. He placed one in front of her before joining the bar stool next to her. Wrapping an arm about her waist, he pulled her to him, her back to his front. She sighed and settled against him. He kissed her hair just above her ear and whispered, "I'm sorry for what I have done. That suit was right around the time my wife and son...were killed and I wanted somebody to pay."

She nodded mutely. "But why destroy an innocent man?"

"Innocent? Michael Daniels was far from not guilty, baby. I won't delve into all that he has done because that is not my bridge to burn," he whispered, lips against her scalp. Tugging her closer, she now sat between his open thighs. "But, I do apologize for what you had to go through. It was never my intent to harm you or your family. Just doing what I thought needed to be done."

But did he really? Or was there some sinister plot afoot? Something much deeper than what was on the surface. What was Ian really hiding? A much needed call had to be made to her father. Speaking of phone calls, she never told Drake where she was. "Oh shit!"