Crave by Sierra Cartwright Read Free Book Online

insides.
    It was unusual for him to leave her alone after a scene. He never had before. Angst churned inside her.
    Frustrated on all levels, she went into the bathroom, unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it from her shoulders. For a few seconds, she held the lightweight material against her nose and breathed in the scent of him—expectation, determination and a warm, tropical breeze.
    Telling herself that she was being fanciful, she dropped the garment, letting it pool onto the floor. Then she realized she hadn’t been fanciful. The same scent clung to her skin. It was as familiar as her own name.
    She turned and caught sight of a welt on her backside. The beating had barely been an appetizer. She was horny, and she wanted him.
    Damn it.
    Sarah stepped beneath the shower’s spray, rested her forehead against the tile, closed her eyes then slid her hand between her legs.
    Recalling the image of the flogger in Reece’s strong hand, she rubbed her forefinger across her clit. Then she reimagined the jolt from the first strike. No matter how much she was expecting the impact, the first stroke always caught her somewhat off guard. This time it had been magnified by the fact that it had been so long since she’d scened with him.
    Until he’d had her reach for the straps, she hadn’t been sure that he’d even play with her. That emotional uncertainty had added to the nerves holding her rigid.
    The delicious, biting caress of fifty leather strands on her bare skin had brought tears to her eyes, but only partially from the pain. For weeks, she’d been fantasizing, hoping, wishing that she could be with him again. Then, when it had happened, she’d been overcome with joy and relief.
    That the lashes had been delivered by the only man she’d ever loved had been divine.
    Sarah rubbed her clitoris faster and faster.
    Her knees wobbled as the orgasm built. How had she ever thought life would be okay without Reece? And, worse, how had she let herself believe that one scene with him would help her to forget him?
    When the hell had she become a master of self-deception?
    With her left hand, she pinched her right nipple. The physical spike of endorphins from the momentary pain was all she needed, and she cried out his name as she orgasmed.
    For a few minutes she stayed there, until she could stand up and draw a full breath.
    She soaped her body and rinsed off in cool water, hoping that she’d look more collected than she felt when she met Reece.
    She was still in the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, when she heard a knock on the door.
    Her heart leaped, and she was half worried, half hoping that Reece had come looking for her.
    Instead, a smiling housekeeper held her skirt, corset and thong. As always, Julien had gotten results. Sarah thanked the woman, gave her a tip then checked the time.
    Realizing she had to hurry in order to not keep Reece waiting, she dumped the pile of clothes on the bed then dropped the towel on the floor. She reached for a lacy bra while she debated what to do about the panties. Reece had chastised her for wearing them. But then he’d been offended when Julien had pointed out her lack of underwear.
    It probably didn’t matter, she thought as she wriggled her slightly damp body into a pair of boy shorts. Reece had seen her naked and had obviously not been tempted. That she’d had to take care of her own orgasm stung much more than his whip had. The approving note in his voice when she’d removed the corset had given her hope. But he had avoided her pussy when he’d run his fingers up the inside of her thighs. When he’d sucked on her nipples, her expectations had soared. But since he hadn’t touched her and he had passed up an unspoken invitation to fuck her, she suspected that he’d never know what she wore next to her skin.
    She stepped into a long, flowing sundress and put on a pair of sandals. After piling her hair on top of her head and securing it with a clip, she applied a coat of mascara.