PrideandSurrender

by Julia Devlin

  “I will not!” I blurted the words out before I could even think about them, face flushing what was sure to be scarlet.

  “You will.” His eyes went to the small stereo system on my dresser. “The music you had on last night will work.”

  The confidence I’d experienced moments ago disappeared, replaced by horror. I scowled. “You’re ruining this for me!”

  “Take off your blouse.” His voice didn’t hold even a trace of give.

  Quickly, I shed the last two buttons and let the white silk float to my feet, my brain already working on ways to escape my fate. My fingers went to the clasp of my bra.

  “Stop. Leave it.” His gaze fell to my waistband. “Now the pants. I like the sandals, so keep them on.”

  My fingers flew as I worked to get them off as fast as possible, awkward as I maneuvered the slacks over my white sandals.

  How could I talk him out of this? I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t.

  “Christos,” I said, my voice a plea. “I don’t want this.”

  “Come here.” He crooked his finger, motioning me closer.

  Unsteady now on heels suddenly too high, I walked to stand in front of him. I looked down, and despite my position of power, we both knew who held all the cards.

  “You’re going to give me a show, Juliet.”

  I opened my mouth, but his gaze narrowed, and I shut it with a click of my teeth.

  “This isn’t a discussion or a negotiation. You wanted to tease, and that’s what you’re going to do.” He placed his hands on my hips and bent his head to kiss my stomach, his tongue dipping into the swell of my belly as the silky strands of his hair fluttered over my skin. “Stand wide.”

  I did, desire still pounding through me despite my fears. His mouth covered my mound, hidden away by satin. I gasped, tangling my hands in his hair. He licked me through the fabric, applying pressure in just the right spots. My head fell back and I closed my eyes. Then his mouth replaced the fingers he slid into my panties. He glided over my cunt, a quick fleeting touch before he was gone. “You’re wet.”

  I nodded, unable to speak. He raised his head to meet my eyes. He didn’t need to say the words You want this. It was understood. He’d made his point. “Go over there and turn on the music then come back to me. Do it now.”

  My breath came fast as panic beat at my chest.

  His hand squeezed my ass. “Go.”

  I went. I didn’t have any other option. The rational part of my brain knew I could walk away. Logic told me all I had to do was say no. But somehow that didn’t seem possible. To walk away and admit defeat was unthinkable. I couldn’t fail. Not at this. Not when I was close to something I couldn’t name that hovered right out of my grasp.

  With a press of a button, music filled the room. I closed my eyes and listened. The song was slow and melodious, completely wrong. There was nothing sexy about it, nothing to lose myself in.

  My lids snapped open. I was about to make a complete fool of myself. Embarrass myself. What the hell did it matter what kind of song it was?

  I didn’t have the nerves to flip through my iPod looking for songs that might be good to dance to, so I flipped to satellite radio, turning the dial until I came to eclectic station. I jacked up the volume until I could feel the bass pounding in rhythm with my heart, feel the beat vibrate in my body.

  It was too loud. I didn’t care. Unless the music drowned out everything, I’d never be able to get through this. And that’s when I realized I was going to do this—I was going to do this for Christos. I was going to be brave.

  I was sure I’d make a fool of myself. Sure I’d trip or fall and look like an idiot. Sure nothing about my performance would be sexy. But I was going to do it anyway, because he’d asked and I loved him.

  If I’d had a shot of whiskey sitting in front of me, I would have downed it, but I didn’t, so I settled for a deep breath and turned back to Christos.

  He watched me, arm resting on the back of the chair as he twisted to see what I was doing. The look he gave me smoldered. Dark and dangerous, he was pure carnal sin. The devil himself.

  The song changed and the cords to Fever strummed their low sexy beat. Not perfect but slow enough I wouldn’t stumble and fall on my ass.

  He smiled then with all the cocky arrogance of a man who knows he’s in the gods’ favor. He had to be, there was no other reason why everything always worked in his favor.

  The beat of the drum and snap of fingers pulsed through the air in time with my desire. If ever there was a song meant to strut through the room, it was this one. With the words Never know how much I love you I took my first step, swinging out my hip in perfect time to the music.

  His expression darkened, eyes flashing.

  Another slow, sensual stride.

  His fingers tightened on the chair.

  That power came flooding back as I walked with an exaggerated sway of my hips. By the time I’d reached him, his knuckles were white. I ran my fingers over them as I moved to stand in front of him.

  His gaze raked over my body, taking in every inch of me. Those damn nerves started again as self-consciousness reared its ugly head. I didn’t want it. I wanted to give in and lose myself in the moment. Be brave.

  Christos shifted, pulling off his shirt in one fluid motion before undoing the buckle of his pants. He unbuttoned and unzipped them, leaving them to hang open in a triangle. Long legs stretched out, he rested one hand on the edge of the bed.

  My mouth watered.

  “Give me that show,” he said, in a harsh rasp. “I want wanton slut.”

  The words inflamed me to the point my knees actually went a bit weak, but they surprised me too. Last night, even when we were at our most primal, he’d never said anything like that.

  Something must have shown in my eyes because he nodded. “Yes, I’m exactly that way.” His gaze flicked over me. “And so are you.”

  Heart beating a mile a minute, denial sat perched on my lips, but I pushed it back where it belonged. Denial had no place here in this room with us.

  I stepped forward, raising my hand to trace his mouth with my finger. “I guess I am.” I leaned down and brushed a kiss over his lips. “With you.”

  And then I began to dance.

  My hips moved, tentatively at first, before finding the rhythm of music. I closed my eyes, trying to capture that feeling of being alone as I swayed. I recalled every sexy dance scene I’d ever seen in movies, every swish of arms and legs, and let the song, this moment and Christos carry me away.

  Something happened with the music pounding through the room, my eyes closed, I transformed. My nerves melted away and my inner temptress took over. I teased. I gave him the best wanton slut I had to offer.

  Later, I’d critique my performance and rule it a disaster.

  But now I was brave.

  I opened my eyes and met his. I’d never seen anything like the expression on his face or that look in his eyes, but I was sure of one thing—he wanted me. As I swung my hips, my arms over my head, hair wild around my face, I could feel his hunger. Feel the strength of his lust. His entire body taut, his gaze raked over me with such absolute possession and passion heat flooded my cunt.

  My nipples were tight, my body straining with my movement and my desire. I wanted to fuck. I wanted to climb on top of him and ride him, but that wasn’t the way this was supposed to go so I settled for the next best thing. I ran my hands down my body, over my breasts, gasping at the pleasure.

  I moved closer, straddling him, placing my palms on his bare shoulders, the muscles twitched under my fingers. A low, guttural sound escaped his throat, and he gripped the arms of the chair. I skimmed my nails over his chest, dragging my thumbs over his nipples. He tried to grab me, but I pushed his hands back down and he let out a frustrated growl.

  Another song flipped over, something I’d never heard before, with a bluesy soulful beat. I changed the rhythm of my hips to match the vibrating thump in the room.

  Leaned d
own and licked the salt off his skin, pausing to scrape my teeth over one of his nipples. He reached for me again, and this time I let him slide his hands over my back, down my hips before pushing him away.

  I worked my body in ways I hadn’t known possible. Gyrated my hips in small circles. Swung my breasts close to his face, let my nipples graze his lips before pulling back. I ground my cunt just over his hard cock but refused us both contact. Sweat beaded my back as I worked muscles I didn’t know I had.

  I was so turned-on, so unbelievably hot I forgot to care about how I looked. Forgot to care if he liked my performance.

  His gaze was glued my oscillating hips, the strain of my thighs, my silk-covered pussy moving relentlessly. Under my fingers, his skin was hot, his chest a rapid rise and fall, his breath fast and harsh.

  The song ended and he let out a hiss. His hands came to grip my waist, stilling me. I met his gaze and gave him that wicked smile I’d learned from him. “Did I give you what you wanted, Christos?”

  He growled, his fingers tightening on my hipbones so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if he left a handprint. “Get on the bed.”

  I’ve never moved so fast. I was on the bed, spread out on my red velvet pillows before he even moved from the chair. He stood—lids half-closed, nostrils flared as he pursued my body. “Bra. Off.”

  I did as I was told, flicking it open and peeling the cups over my breasts before tossing it to the floor.

  “Panties.”

  My belly tightened and I hooked my thumb in the waistband and stripped them from my legs. He didn’t take his eyes off me as he rid himself of shoes and socks, standing up straight to slowly pull his black belt from his unzipped pants.

  “Arms.” He pointed to the headboard and motioned for me put them over my head.

  My heart leapt in my throat as wetness coated my thighs at his hard commands. I didn’t know why I liked this so much—maybe it was because no man I’d ever met would have dared—but what we were doing thrilled something deep inside me.

  “Spread them.” He trailed a finger over my calf.

  Clad in nothing but high-heeled white sandals I spread my legs open wide. He traced a path over my knee, making me jerk when he touched a sensitive spot. He moved up, pausing to stroke over my inner thigh, saying nothing at the moisture he found there.

  Arousal, hot and heady, weighed me down so all I could do was pant for breath. His fingers sank between my thighs, and he rubbed my clit in a slow, maddening circle, featherlight and oh so frustrating. Pleasure pulsed through me, and shockingly, I began to crest. Only he pulled back, denying me the orgasm with a raised a brow.

  I groaned, arching my hips up in silent offering.

  He leaned down and licked my clit, and I bowed off the bed, sharp points of my heels digging into the mattress. His tongue danced over my hot, swollen flesh, once again building me up the very pinnacle of climax only to pull away.

  I let out a frustrated scream.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw, and with a quickness that startled me, he pounced, covering me, his hard thighs straddling me. He grasped my wrists and pulled them tight against the iron bar.

  He worked his belt around my wrists, wrapping and twisting so I was bound tight, the iron pressing into the soft skin of my inner wrists.

  It didn’t hurt. Instead the soft rasp of metal on my skin when I moved made me throb with hot need. My thighs started to tremble with the force of my desire, working up to my belly. I pressed my legs together, unable to stop the rush of sensations flooding over me, rotating my hips so my clit received pressure. Impossible as it was, an orgasm welled and I threw my head back, a loud moan escaping the depths of my throat.

  Christos’ attention snapped to me, surprise flickered over his expression before he twisted around and pulled my legs apart so once again the climax faded to something just beyond my reach. He slid off the bed and shook his head at me. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

  I forced myself to meet his gaze. I knew how I looked, spread open, bound, body flushed, chest heaving. I’d never experienced arousal like this, where every touch made me sure I’d tip over the edge, where my body tingled on the very pinnacle of orgasm, where I no longer cared about how I looked or sounded like.

  I’ve never had my need so great I prayed for it to stop. Or my pleasure so intense I prayed it never would.

  “Scarves?” he asked in an almost guttural tone.

  My gaze flicked to my closet. He took a step then turned back, leaning down to my ear to whisper, “Keep those legs open.”

  I nodded, my pussy so wet now I could feel liquid trickle down my thigh.

  He palmed my breast, circling my nipple so I keened at the sharp ache. “This wasn’t the plan.” He rolled the hard bud between his thumb and forefinger.

  “What?” I managed to gasp.

  “I’m down to monosyllables, and if I squeezed your nipples just so, you’d come.”

  As if to prove his point, he took one nipple in his mouth and bit down while pinching the other, the climax swelled and threatened to carry me away. He was right. One more touch and I’d be over the edge, thrown head-first into the abyss. But of course he moved away.

  I moaned, rolling my head on the pillow.

  He shook his head. “Fucking unbelievable.”

  I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I took it as a compliment. He turned on his heel, pushing the off button on the stereo before disappearing into the closet to rummage through my things.

  The heat of my skin. The pull of muscle in my arms. The cool air on my wet nipple in contrast to the sting of the other. The metal rasping my skin. The desire in my belly. The quiver in my thighs. The way my cunt practically wept. The pounding of my pulse. The swell of my clit. The scent of my arousal.

  Never had I been so hyperaware. I rolled my hips, unable to stop myself. It was intoxicating, even with my legs spread open. I did it again. And again. Moaning. Twisting. Rocking.

  Lost in my need and desire, I was completely wanton.

  And that was how he found me.

  Chapter Eleven

  My eyes flew open and met his stunned gaze. I flushed, embarrassed by my display but unable to quell my moving body. “I, um—” I stuttered, licking my dry mouth.

  “I have never,” he said, in a strained voice, “seen you look more gorgeous.”

  He kissed the tip of each breast before he straightened, taking one foot and wrapping a silk scarf around my ankle before fastening me to the bed. In silence, he walked around to the other side and repeated his actions.

  I was completely helpless now. Tied. Bound. At his mercy.

  And I loved it.

  He walked to the center of the footboard and stared at me, face dark with lust.

  I raised my hips and offered myself to him.

  He pulled his cock free from his boxer briefs. He dripped with pre-come. He stroked, and my mouth watered. I moaned. Straining against my bonds. His shaft disappeared into his fist. “I want to keep you like this for hours.” The head of his cock appeared again through the circle of his fingers. “But that’s not possible.”

  He walked around the bed, grabbed a condom and stripped off his briefs. I kept my eyes glued to his erection, watching as he slid the latex ring down his erection. He climbed onto the bed and kneeled between my legs.

  Bending over, he licked my cunt. Featherlight. Over and over. His tongue circled my clit and I cried out. He exerted hardly any pressure, but it didn’t matter, my body was on a mission. Desperate to come. Bright and sharp, the climax began to roll through me only for him to pull back once again.

  I twisted, lifting my hips, blowing out a frustrated, “Christos.”

  “I had plans.” He stared at me with hooded lids. “But I can’t help it, Juliet. I have to fuck you.”

  “Yes please,” I hissed, raising my hips as best I could.

  The head of his cock pressed against my wet, swollen cunt. “You make me crazy,” he said in a strangled voice and
drove deep within in one strong, fluid thrust, pushing me into the mattress.

  I came. Hot rushes of screeching pleasure crashed in on me.

  “Oh god, yes!” I yelled so loud I was sure my neighbors would hear me and I’d have to move.

  Over and over, he fucked me, his cock stroking my pussy. Our hips slamming together. Another wave of vicious contractions rolled over me, just when the last ones were fading out and I screamed as it threatened to consume me, burn me up until there was nothing left but ash.

  He was right behind me, roaring as he pounded into me with such a force I was surprised we didn’t break my bed. There was no finesse. No choreographed tenderness. It was a hard, fast, furious fuck. It was the brutal mating of two people who’d been pushed over the edge of passion.

  I panted for breath as he collapsed on top of me. Into the crook of my neck, he mumbled, “Jesus Christ.”

  I laughed, and he said, “This isn’t funny, Juliet.”

  He reached over my head and worked me free of his belt, stopping as soon as my hands were loose enough to slip free. They tingled as blood rushed back to my hands, and I wrapped my arms around him.

  He raised his head and kissed me, pushing my sweat-damp hair off my cheek. He grunted and moved to untie me, slipping off my shoes and tossing them with a thump onto the floor before rolling next to me and pulling me close. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

  My cheeks grew hot. That knee-jerk part of me, so used to self-preservation at any cost, thought I should be mortified by my behavior. Images of my actions flashed through my head like a slide show so I was able to point out every flaw in what I’d done.

  But I was riding on some sort of euphoric high and I kicked that bitch to the curb, slamming the door on her face and locking the deadbolt. I knew she’d be back, after all she’d been with me for a long time, but for now I wanted to be free and enjoy the peace and quiet.

  I shivered as Christos’ fingers traced a path over my back, kissing my temple. “You know, that was supposed to go much differently.”