Best Laid Plans by Robyn Kelly (robert munsch read aloud txt) 📖

I roll the comforter down and hear Jackson mumble, “We definitely need a French maid uniform.” I don’t care if he thinks I’m prissy, these things are a pain to wash and I suspect we might be having some sweaty sex soon.

He pushes me down on the bed, drops his boxers to the floor, and kneels between my splayed legs. His hands land above my shoulders as he hovers over me on all fours.

“When we are having a scene, thinking is bad and feeling is good.” His gaze is so intense, I almost want to look away. “This is how we’re going to play. It should be easy for someone who loves to be in control as much as you do.”

I know better than to interrupt him right now, so I only roll my eyes.

“I want you to take your arms and raise them over your head. Grab hold of the rods in the headboard.” I do as he says. “Good girl. Now don’t let go. Keep your legs open and your eyes always on me. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Is that the right answer?

“You’re thinking. Thinking is bad. What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know if I’m supposed to say ‘yes, sir.’”

“So eager.” He gives me a quick kiss on the lips. “I’ll tell you what I want. You don’t have to think—you just have to be honest. There’s no punishment here. There is only the first lesson. And now, one more thing—I don’t want you making any noise. You can answer if I ask you a question, but no other sounds. If you make a sound, I stop—and you won’t want me to stop.”

He nibbles on my ear. He’s so close, hovering over me. I can feel the heat radiate off his body, but I can’t touch him. He trails his tongue down my neck and I shiver. I never knew that was an erogenous zone, and I surrender to the sensation.

“Open your eyes, Jillian.”

My eyes fly open. When did I close them?

“What did I tell you?”

“Keep my eyes on you.”

“And?”

“Don’t let go of the headboard. And keep my legs open. And don’t make a sound.” My mind races. What else? “Don’t think.”

“And?”

What else did he tell me? Isn’t that everything?

“I want you to always be honest,” he gently reminds me.

Well, if I was honest, I’d tell him this is a lot harder than it looks.

His mouth descends on my left breast. He suckles it, and I want to close my eyes and moan, but I clamp those reactions down tight. I’m doing pretty well until his teeth capture my nipple, and I make a sound I couldn’t repeat if my life depended on it. Jackson raises his head.

“Why did I stop?”

“Because I made a sound,” I manage in a strangled voice.

“And haven’t we discussed this, Jillian? What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Answer the question. What were you thinking? Be honest.”

“I wasn’t making any sounds and I wasn’t moving anything and I was looking at the top of your head and it felt wonderful. Then you bit my nipple and I lost control.”

“You didn’t lose control. You let go of it. For a few seconds, I made you let go of control, and the world did not come to an end. You have it back now, don’t you?”

Do I? “I think I’m going to disappoint you.”

His sudden laugh is like a bark. “Look at me. All of me. Do I look disappointed?”

He straightens, and I move my eyes down the length of him to…the length of him. He is hard, and straight, and certainly not disappointed. In fact, over-enthusiastic is a better description.

“Your mind doesn’t like giving up control. It’s going to try to distract you—to make you feel ridiculous, or frightened, or shamed. None of those things are true. All that is true is that you are laying here on your bed, unrestrained, receiving a lesson from a teacher who only wants you to be an excellent pupil.”

He kisses me between my breasts. “The lesson is almost over. I just need you to focus a little harder.” He moves to my right side and lays on his side, pressing against me. He positions his head over my right breast, while his hand strokes my thigh.

I can feel his erection pressed against my hip. He slides a finger into me and my arms move reflexively.

I blurt out, “Sorry,” before I remember I’m not supposed to speak. I silently mouth Sorry to apologize for saying the word.

He chuckles that same low rumble he did in my doorway. “It’s hard having to control yourself around me, isn’t it?” I nod my head, never taking my eyes off him. “If your hands were restrained, you wouldn’t have to remember to grip the headboard.” His finger slips in and out, slowly circling. “If your legs were restrained, you could forget about keeping them spread. If I blindfolded you, you wouldn’t have to focus on my face. You could just let go and feel every sensation.”

His finger slides out of me, and he holds it in front of my face. “See how wet you are. You must be really turned on by this. I bet that makes it harder to control yourself.” Then his voice drops an octave. “Open your mouth.”

His eyes are like two hypnotic spirals and, without thinking, my jaw drops open while my tongue moves toward his hand. He places his finger in my mouth and orders, “Suck it.”

I wrap my lips around his finger, as his head descends on my breast. I stroke his finger with my tongue and feel him do the same to my nipple. His mouth mirrors mine, letting me signal how hard he can play with it. I flick my tongue against his finger repeatedly, and enjoy the sensations from his mimicking tongue. I close my jaw a little, and scrape my teeth against his finger. When his teeth scrape against me, I moan. His finger slips out of my mouth, and presses into my sex. His teeth continue to fondle my nipple while he slips a second finger deep into me. My breathing crumbles into short, shallow gulps until he opens his mouth and releases the tight bud.

He turns his face toward me, and there is a possessive gleam in his eyes. “I don’t think I would gag you. You suffer so erotically.”

He pushes up on his elbow and glides on top of me. “You can touch me if you want,” he whispers. My mind is confused but my body responds instinctively; my arms wrap around him and I mold myself against his muscular frame. I want to feel his naked body pressed against me so much that I’m clinging.

He brushes a curl off my forehead. “This is a pleasant surprise. You’ve been so stop-and-go all night, I was afraid we’d never get here.” He nibbles on my lower lip. I pull it free from his teeth and place my hands on his head, raising up to kiss him. His lesson has made me bolder, or am I just too excited to be self-conscious about what I’m doing? My hands need to feel his hair, the muscles in his back, his arms—every part of him.

I don’t know how long we spend like this, but when he pulls his mouth free I still want more.

“This is what I was waiting for. You’re a passionate woman, Jillian, but you hold everything in so tightly. Always controlling what you say, what you do, and second-guessing yourself. I want you to learn how to surrender when we’re like this. I want to set you free.” He reaches for the night stand. “But right now I need to fuck you. Luckily, I have a condom from this century. You can move your arms, you can move your legs, and you can make as much noise as you want. Just don’t think. Follow my lead and trust me. And use the safe words if you can’t.”

He pulls himself off me and lifts up on his knees, hovering over my chest. He tosses the condom between my breasts. “Put it on me.”

I open the package and pull out the latex ring. I take hold of him with my left hand. He’s big and straight and beautifully shaped. He’s so hard, yet the skin feels wonderfully smooth and very warm. There isn’t anything that isn’t hot about this man. I roll the condom down his shaft, and hear his sharp intake of breath. When I look in his face, it’s obvious he isn’t trying to control his expression anymore.

“You seem to have some experience with this.”

“I’ve decorated a lot of parties with condom balloons.”

He chuckles under his breath. “So much experience, and all of it the wrong kind. Why does that turn me on?”

His lips lock on mine, and I feel the need again. It’s not quite as strong now that I’m a little worried about fitting him inside me. He presses his fists into the mattress as he lowers himself down, and it makes me want to lick his tensed chest muscles.

He presses between my legs. I stare into his darkened eyes and we communicate through this silent connection. “Tell me you want me, Jillian.” His voice is low but so controlled.

Right now there isn’t anything I want more. “I want you,” I whisper.

“Tell me how badly you want me. Don’t think. Your pleasure is so close. Your release. But you’re going to have to convince me you want it.”

This isn’t the time for shyness. “I want it.”

“You made me wait outside your door and sell you on coming in. Now it’s your turn. Sell me.”

He moves his mouth to my neck while a