by Lilly Atlas
“I’m sorry about that,” she said in a low voice as shame washed over her. Convinced at the very least he wasn’t about to spring from the bed and attack her, she lowered her purse and let it drop to the ground. Ten steps brought her to the foot of the bed.
“Are you?” He tilted his head, studying her. She had the distinct impression he could see straight through her skull to all the fucked-up messiness swirling around inside. That had to stop. No one was allowed to know what went on between her ears these days. Way too scary.
“Why are you here? Are you stalking me?” Would someone admit to being a stalker if they were in fact a stalker? Good thing she wasn’t a detective, she’d be out of a job in no time.
He grunted out a laugh. “I’m not stalking you. I’ve seen you out a few times on the weekends. You seem to do the same thing every time. You come in, have one drink, find one man, stay until the drink is gone then leave with your new…friend. It wasn’t too far a stretch to think you went to the same motel room as well.”
Jesus, she hadn’t realized using a routine would make her so predictable and easy to prey on. A chill ran down her spine. She needed to be more careful. More observant of her surroundings. He’d seen her more than once? Shit, she’d never even noticed him. Last week she would have thought it impossible to miss someone with his strong presence. Apparently, she was dead wrong. Still…
“That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
“You intrigued me last week.” Not one note of apology in his tone.
“I thought I’d have angered you.”
He snickered. “I wasn’t thrilled to be stuck here, chained to the bed with my dick hanging out, but I admired your lady balls for doing it. I broke your rules, you made me pay. I like a woman who’s not a wilting flower.”
He liked her? She forced herself to ignore the part of her that warmed at his words. “And you’re here because? It’s not exactly normal to sneak in a woman’s hotel room and handcuff yourself to her bed. Especially a woman you’ve only met once.”
Now his laugh was loud and full of real amusement. “And it’s normal to tie random men to your bed and fuck them?” Despite the words, his tone held no judgment. As abnormal as he might have found it, he seemed totally at ease with her. “Told you, you intrigued me. You walk in the bar all full of sass and confidence, like you own the damn place and every man in there. It’s sexy as fuck. But there’s something behind your eyes that contradicts your actions. I wouldn’t say you’re broken, but maybe bent pretty far out of whack.”
He had no freaking clue, yet he’d hit the nail way too close to the head. Chloe swallowed a golf ball sized lump in her throat, suddenly feeling as naked as he was.
“Top all that off with the tightest pussy I’ve ever worked my way in and, well, here I am. Game for round two. Ready and willing to follow your rules this time. See?” He jangled the cuffs above the bed. Even when he was slightly playful, his face still held a seriousness that would make most uncomfortable. Not exactly resting bitch face, but maybe resting growly bear face. Still, somehow, it fit him and didn’t quite scare her as much as it probably should have.
“What makes you think I want a second go-around?”
“I made you come. Hard,” he said in a manner that would have been arrogant from anyone else, but from him it was just a statement of fact.
“S-so?” she asked, mutant butterflies flitting around her stomach. Her damn body betrayed her as well, softening and aching for what he’d provided last time. “That makes you special?”
“It does.”
“What makes you think I don’t come every day?”
He shrugged. Not much else he could do, all bound to the bed. “I don’t. But I know you put on an Oscar-worthy performance at first and were gonna leave it at that. Then, when the real thing happened you looked completely shocked and jumped off my cock like it was on fire. Guessing it’s been a long time for you. Guessing you might have even had some kind of problem coming in the recent past. That makes my last guess that you want it to happen again. And again.”
He was some kind of wizard. Had to be. Otherwise, how could he know so much? Like the fact that she’d relived that orgasm at least two hundred times throughout the week. And how very badly she wanted it to happen again. But this was so far from her usual routine, she wasn’t sure she could go through it. No matter how much her body craved release.
“You said you didn’t live around here.” What else had the man lied about?
“So did you.”
Well, he had her there. Guess those lies canceled each other out. Chloe blew out a breath. “Now what?”
“You’re here, I’m helpless, the way you like your men. Whatever dipshit you picked up for the night seems to have taken the hint, tucked his tail between his legs, and left. Why don’t you climb on board and we’ll see if we can get you off again? I’ve thought of nothing but your pussy all week.”
Chloe stared at him, her riotous body completely on board with his plan. Under the heat of his gaze, her nipples beaded, and her thong grew damp. Frozen in place, she clenched and unclenched her hands at her sides.
Logan, who’d spoken more in the past five minutes than he had the entire time last weekend, lifted his right hand. “I’m cuffed. The key is in the top dresser drawer. I’m totally at your mercy, gorgeous. All I ask is that you don’t leave me here this time.”
Chloe’s face would have heated with embarrassment if her entire body wasn’t already hotter than freakin’ fire. Still, she couldn’t get herself to make a decision.
Then Logan’s cock twitched, and she swore she could feel it inside her. “It’s Chloe,” she said. “My name is Chloe, not gorgeous.” There went the last thread of her sanity. Snapped by a sexy man who now wore a smug grin. Before she could talk herself out of it, she ripped the deep purple dress over her head, leaving her in a matching baby blue lace bra and thong. “I’ve got condoms and the lube in my bag.”
She took a step back toward where she’d dropped her purse just as Logan’s barked, “No,” cut through the room.
Chloe halted, her gaze meeting his. “No?”
His mouth curled up in a sinful smile that had her pussy spasming. Damn, the man was something to look at. But she’d still need the lube. Even though Logan had her wetter than she’d been since she started this DIY form of therapy, experience told her she’d dry up shortly after penetration. Just a side effect of not being overly into any of the men she took back to the hotel. That and the fact that the most horrible night of her life was always lurking somewhere in her subconscious.
“Just a condom. Then how about you climb up here and straddle my face? We’ll see if we can’t get you lubed up the old-fashioned way.”
Faltering mid-step, Chloe nearly fell on her face. His request stole her breath. Deep down, she knew if this man got his mouth on her, it’d be mind-blowing.
But it was against the rules. The rules she set up to remain in control and avoid a panic attack. The rules that kept her sane and moving somewhat forward in life. Even if the thought of it had her wetter than she’d been since long before she was kidnapped, she couldn’t do it.
Could she?
He was restrained. He couldn’t steal her control. Couldn’t take over and dominate her.
Couldn’t hurt her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHLOE WAS GONNA bolt. She had that wide-eyed panicked look a deer got when staring into the headlights of a truck barreling down at seventy miles per hour. Any second now, her fight or flight juices would shoot through her system and he’d be left staring at the smoke rising from the skid marks where she once stood.
She blinked, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm slightly faster than normal. Rocket’s attention fell to her tits as they moved with her breath. Both nipples were puckered to tight points. The room wasn’t cold. He dropped his focus even lower, to the swatch of lace at the juncture of her thighs. Right where the fabric was slightly darker than the rest of her panti
es.
Because it was wet. Which meant her body liked his offer, but her mind was too afraid to reach out and take it.
She swallowed, shoulders straightening a hair as though she was injecting some starch in her spine. Maybe she wouldn’t flee. Here he was thinking he’d pushed too hard and too far when maybe what she actually needed was another nudge. “Come on,” he said, issuing the challenge. “Bring that pussy to me. I’ve been dying for a taste of it since I felt you come on my cock last week.”
Her breathing grew even more ragged, and she licked her lips. Damn, she had no idea how sexy that tiny action was.
And Rocket had no clue why he’d made Chloe’s pleasure his number one goal in life. But there he was, tying himself to a fucking bed for a woman when all he wanted to do was toss her on her back, dive between her legs and not come up for air until she was screaming for mercy. The good kind of screams.
“I-I don’t think so. That’s not what I like.”
They were a long way from his fantasy scenario. Not that they’d ever get there. This was it. Had to be it. Not only could his association with her put his club at risk, it was utterly insane to form any kind of attachment with her. Rocket’s past was too fucked up to bring a woman, any woman, too deeply into his life. Esposito hounding his ass was a reminder of that fact.
“You don’t like it? Which part don’t you like? Having a man tongue your clit? Suck it? Straight up fucking you with their tongue?” The idea of another man doing any of those things to her had murderous thoughts he had no business thinking trying to worm their way to the forefront of his mind.
“No, I—” She blinked, opened her mouth to say something else but snapped it shut again. Yeah, she hadn’t expected him to call her bluff.
Come on, baby. You know you want it.
Chloe might be playing the part of a dominant ever since she was assaulted, but Rocket was almost certain the role wasn’t who she was pre-kidnapping. He’d bet his fucking Fat Boy, before her safety was shattered, she’d preferred a man to take charge in the bedroom, maybe even needed it to get off. Nothing about their previous encounter was actually about sex. It was strictly Chloe needing power over men. She just knew no other way to capture that feeling than fucking. Take the same act used against her and turn it on its head. She was doing it to survive, to heal. Yet the only time she’d been able to come was when he stole that control and fucked her into oblivion.
“I’ve been in agony all week wondering if your pussy would feel as incredible around my tongue as it did on my cock. Put me out of my misery and bring that soaking wet cunt over here.”
Her eyes flared. She was practically panting at this point. The order he issued was wrapped in a layer of false submission. Let her think he was begging for what he wanted, what she had the power to grant him, when really, she was submitting to her own desires. Allowing him to give her what she needed.
Rocket was no psychiatrist, but he’d guess Chloe would only find true peace and healing in the renewed ability to surrender. That desire had been ripped from her, turned into something ugly, horrifying, and painful. Now, rightfully so, she was petrified of the prospect. Many, possibly even most women in her position would be paralyzed by that fear. Unable to be with a man until they found a method to deal with the trauma. At first, Rocket assumed Chloe’s weekend activities were her taking the trauma and facing it head on. Getting naked, touching, fucking, proving the bastards hadn’t damaged her sexuality and needs as a woman.
Now he knew different. She was just the same as the others. Terrified, scarred, dealing with a pain so deep it changed the core of who she was. Because Chloe was just as afraid of being with a man. Just as petrified to be trapped under a man, to have her control taken, to be hurt again. He was pretty sure she didn’t even count what went down in this motel room as sex.
Hence why she never orgasmed. Never found physical pleasure in the act.
Until him.
And damn if that didn’t make him even fucking harder.
Slowly, she closed the distance to the foot of the bed once again.
Rocket held his breath, the pulsing ache in his cock a match for his pounding heart.
“Y-your mouth stays between my legs,” she said, one knee landing on the bed to the side of his foot.
“Deal.”
She wasn’t done. “You don’t try to see if your hands can reach any part of my body.” The other knee hit the mattress. She was officially straddling him, although a good few feet south of the end goal.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Not even so much as a flicker of happiness. In fact, her spine was so straight and her body so rigid, she’d probably snap in two if a stiff breeze blew through the room. What he’d mistaken for a steel spine was clearly anxiety and fear.
Normally, he wouldn’t push a terrified woman so far, but he was pretty damn sure she wouldn’t be feeling anything but fucking bliss in the next few minutes.
“And if and when I tell you to stop, you do it. No questions asked.”
He almost snorted. No way in fucking hell would she beg him to stop. Not once he got his tongue on her clit. She might beg, but it’d just be for more. “Understood. Anything else?”
Chloe stared a minute then shook her head.
“Then scoot on up here because as skilled as I am, even I can’t get you off when your pussy is that far away.”
She did, inching her way up his body as though making her way to the end of a plank instead of an orgasm. Had the reason for her trepidation not been so sad, the situation might have been comical. As it was, Rocket felt a strange urge to wrap his arms around her and shield her from anything else the world might throw her way.
When she reached his shoulders, she had to widen her legs to continue given the slightly awkward positioning of his bound arms. But they made it work. Finally, she was where she needed to be.
Chloe gripped the headboard, her arms visibly trembling. To keep from embarrassing her, Rocket shifted his focus to her pussy, hovering right above his mouth. Not that it was any kind of hardship to stare at her. She was wet, pink, and shaved to just a small triangle of neatly trimmed auburn hair.
A beautiful sight.
“W-why aren’t you doing anything?” she asked, voice quivering with each word.
“Shh, can’t rush a master.”
A strangled laugh escaped, and he flicked his gaze to her face.
“A master, huh?” Her right eyebrow was arched high into her forehead. “Think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”
Rocket couldn’t keep the smile off his face if he was paid to frown. This was the first sign of any playfulness she’d exhibited since he’d met her. Hell, since he’d been tailing her. And it made her even more striking. Even harder to resist.
“Guess you’re about to find out.”
With that. He darted his tongue out, making a quick swipe directly over her clit.
Chloe gasped, her hips bucking at the shock of sensation.
“Just making sure you’re paying attention,” he quipped right before taking a quick nip of her thigh.
This time her laugh was shaky at best, but she widened her knees ever so slightly bringing herself closer to his mouth.
That’s my girl.
A girl. Not his girl. To curtail the outrageous direction his mind was veering, he put himself to work getting Chloe off. He licked straight through her folds before circling her clit once, then once again in the opposite direction followed by a slow slide back down to her pussy. Again, and again he repeated the pattern until Chloe was squirming and practically grinding herself on his face.
With her eyes still open, gaze fixated on the wall above the headboard, she hadn’t fully relaxed, hadn’t lost herself in the sensations.
That was about to change.
This time, instead of ringing her swollen clit, he wrapped his lips around it and sucked enough to make her yelp.
“Oh, my God,” she cried.
Still sucking, he glanced at
her face once again. Now they were getting somewhere. Head tipped back, cheeks and chest flushed a pretty pink, eyes closed, she shamelessly bore down on his face.
The taste of her had completely overwhelmed his senses and fuck if he didn’t want to drown in her essence. Sweet and spicy, he imagined it was a direct reflection of her personality if she ever let the real Chloe out to play anymore.
“Fuck, baby, you taste so good.”
She moaned, finally lost in the act. “More.” The command was soft, uncertain, but heard and understood.
Rocket wanted more too. Time to take this to the next level. Abandoning her clit, he went straight for her pussy. His tongue slid in with ease and he went to town fucking her with it.
“Shit,” she whispered as she canted her hips to receive more. Whimpers and moans flew from her with increasing volume as her hips picked up speed. Chloe was fully immersed in the experience and aiding him by fucking herself on his tongue.
As she thrust forward, her clit bumped his nose causing her to cry out and jolt so hard she lost the rhythm.
God, what he wouldn’t give to have access to his hands. To be able to grab the soft flesh of her hip and help her find her tempo once again. Maybe pump two fingers into her sex while his lips returned to her clit.
Chloe didn’t seem to need much assistance though. She got right back into the groove, this time making sure her clit got some action with each roll of her hips.
She was getting close if the gentle fluttering of her walls was any indication. Rocket kept up the assault until she groaned a frustrated sound.
“Logan,” she said, squeezing the headboard so hard, the underside of her palms was a stark white.
She was fighting it. Afraid to allow the monster orgasm to consume her.
“Let go,” he growled against her. “I’m cuffed, just how you like it. You’ve got the upper hand here. I’m bound and at your mercy. Let. Go.”
His words combined with the tongue lashing he gave her clit seemed to be exactly what she needed to free herself from the chains of uncertainty.
