Bleeding Hearts: The Complete Duet

by A. Zavarelli

  His hands clutched the arms of the chair as I swirled my tongue around the head, collecting the clear liquid that had gathered there. His cock jumped as I licked him from root to tip in one long motion.

  I didn’t think it possible, but the rigid flesh grew even more as it fell back against his belly, visibly pulsing with need. I still wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I decided to go with my gut and play with the soft sack resting at the base. I’d had the urge to taste that velvety skin ever since the first time I’d brushed it with my hand.

  It was just as soft as I remembered. His head fell back on a sigh as I explored him with my tongue. His eyes drifted shut and his mouth parted, and it was then that I knew I had him. And it wasn’t a point for my game, it was a point for me.

  I sucked him back into my mouth and played around with different techniques, listening to his breathing to see what he liked best. His hands threaded through my hair, but this time he wasn’t trying to take control. He simply let me do what I wanted, appreciating every second of it.

  When he came, it was with a long and ragged groan. The difference in his posture was obvious, and my heart skipped a beat knowing I had the power to ease his tension.

  “Come up here.” He patted his lap.

  I climbed into his lap and relaxed in his arms while he stroked my back and kissed my neck.

  “You look tired,” I murmured against him.

  “That’s because I am, baby girl.”

  The ocean between us grew smaller by the moment, and when my eyes locked with his, I was afraid of what that meant for me. For my heart that I was supposed to be keeping out of this.

  I reached up to clasp his face in mine while I stared into his eyes.

  “Still mad at me?”

  He blew out a breath and clutched me tighter. “I don’t like to worry about you.”

  “Am I in danger?” I asked.

  Ryland stiffened beneath me. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Because last week, you said you thought I was dead. And the rule about my safety. Is there something I should know?”

  He dropped his gaze and shook his head.

  “No, you’re not in danger.”

  His voice held conviction, but there was something else there too. And if I wasn’t in danger, I couldn’t understand his reaction. Why he’d immediately assumed I was dead when I’d gone missing for a few hours. If it were any other time, I might have pushed the issue, but we were already on shaky ground.

  “Stay the weekend with me,” he said.

  I didn’t know if I had a choice or not, but either way, I nodded my assent.

  “I have to go to my apartment to get my things.”

  He picked me up and set me on my feet. “I’ll buy you whatever you need on the way.”

  “I don’t want you to buy me anything,” I argued. “I have everything I need at my apartment.”

  He gave me a look that told me it was not up for discussion as he threaded his fingers through mine and led me from the office.

  ***

  It was ten minutes past eight, and the store was now officially closed. The retail assistant kept giving me dirty looks while Ryland typed away on his phone. Yet, she’d insisted she was more than happy to keep the store open late for him.

  I glanced at another price tag and frowned.

  “Ryland,” I whispered.

  He blinked up at me as though he couldn’t possibly understand what the problem was.

  “I can’t buy anything here. This is crazy.”

  This little statement earned me another scowl from pouty Patricia with her perfect hair and tailored skirt suit.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t like the clothing. I’d dreamed of nothing but wearing this kind of clothing for as long as I could remember. It was why I collected every fashion magazine I could ever afford with my meager income. It was the reason I learned to sew. I wanted to design my own creations and have something great instead of another bargain bin special. But allowing someone else to buy me these kinds of garments made me feel cheap somehow.

  Ryland simply grunted at my statement as he pulled me into his side and barked off his orders to Patricia.

  “She needs an assortment of clothing to last the weekend. Size eight. Makeup, bath products, whatever else women usually need. And shoes. Can you handle that, Patricia, within the next ten minutes?”

  “Of course.” She gave him a feline smile. “I’d be delighted, Mr. Bennett.”

  “Thank you.” He nodded, forking over his shiny black credit card. “We’ll wait up the front.”

  Patricia was punctual, I had to give her that. She arrived exactly nine minutes later, loaded down with three other shop assistants and more bags than I could count.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at the ground as Ryland signed off on the whole transaction. I couldn’t see that amount and still look at my face in the mirror every day, so I chose to pretend it wasn’t happening.

  Once we were back out on the curb, I climbed into the black Jaguar he’d driven us in. I didn’t know much about cars, but this one was all sleek lines and quiet power. It had a beauty that snuck up on you unexpectedly, and you could tell Ryland was proud of it as he cruised through the streets of San Francisco. He’d mentioned that this model was completely customized for him, and it was the only one in the world like it.

  When I asked him how he managed to acquire it, he gave me a wolfish smile that smacked of sarcasm for two reasons. One, he’d never tell me, and two, I should have been smart enough not to ask in the first place.

  I sank into the buttery soft seats and observed the flashing lights pass us by as we edged towards the sea. The experience couldn’t be dulled. At least now I could say I’d ridden in a luxury sport’s car with one of the worlds’ one percenters. My mother would choke on her cigarette if she saw me now.

  When we pulled into the marina, I shot Ryland a questioning glance, but he simply went about removing all my bags from the trunk. Ted was at the ready to take the car and zipped off at Ryland’s go ahead.

  I followed him on wobbly legs across the docks until we reached what I was certain must be a joke.

  “There she is.” Ryland gestured to a tiny vessel bobbing in the sea.

  I didn’t know much about boats either, but this one was old and weathered and rather small. It was the polar opposite of the car he drove, and I couldn’t see the comparison.

  Of course, I took his outstretched hand after he unloaded the bags and stepped onboard. I wasn’t about to be a snob about the type of boat ride I would accept, especially when I’d never been on one to begin with.

  But as the boat rocked to and fro in the gentle sway of the ocean, I gripped the leather seat with white knuckles and a certain look of terror on my face. It occurred to me that we were venturing out into the open water on this tiny vessel. I’d never swum in the ocean, but I knew there were creatures lurking in there much bigger than this. I had on occasion been forced to watch the Discovery channel when Brayden managed to scab some free cable. All I could think about now were killer whales coming up beneath us.

  Ryland buckled me in with an amused grin before prying my hands from the sides of the seat and placing them in my lap.

  “First time on a boat?”

  “Gee, how’d you guess?” I quipped.

  “You’re going to be fine,” he assured me. “You’re in competent hands.”

  I wanted to tell him that made him sound arrogant, but I kept my mouth shut as he messed with all the doohickeys by the steering wheel. I figured he would probably need all of his focus not to kill us, so I didn’t want to give him any distractions.

  The motor roared to life, and Ryland came alive as he pushed us out to sea. It was the strangest transformation, all of his tension and stress rolling off of him as he took on the open water.

  Once I calmed down enough to look around me, I started to enjoy myself. The Bay area was a sight to behold with the twinkling lights of the city falling into the
backdrop and the Golden Gate Bridge off to the side.

  The salt air cooled my face and refreshed me in a way I was unfamiliar with. I closed my eyes and inhaled, adding another first to my memory bank. When I opened them again, I caught a glimpse of Ryland as he messed with the old-fashioned knobs on his radio. For someone so tech savvy, I couldn’t believe how much he fit into this picture. He was in his element, and I was in awe of the sight before me.

  The moonlight shimmered off the open water and reflected the lights of an unknown place up ahead. But it was Ryland’s profile that I drank in, seeing one of those rare candid moments when he was simply Ryland. Not Ryland Bennett, billionaire. Not Ryland, the ruthless businessman. Not even Ryland the puppet master who had control of my fate.

  This was the face of the Ryland I had first glimpsed on my front porch. The man who had an appeal to him I could never quite put my finger on. He was obviously handsome, but that was never what did it to me. With my family, I never had too many high hopes for attracting a good-looking boyfriend. The best I could have hoped for was that he was sweet and could handle the crazy of Norma-Jean and an overly protective Brayden. But Ryland was none of those things. He was dark and mysterious, and the type of man my mother warned me was bad for a woman’s heart.

  I could still hear her gravelly voice in my head as she let out a bitter laugh.

  Those men are just like your father. Good for nothing, low life, scum of the earth.

  A shudder ran through me, and I was surprised when Ryland kneeled down and ran his hands over my arms. We’d stopped at a private dock, and I hadn’t even noticed.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

  “No.” I shook my head and let the memories of the past fade away. “I’m fine. Are we here?”

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “This is the place.”

  He unbuckled me, and as I glanced at his face, I thought I saw a hint of nerves there. He helped me up onto the dock before following with the bags.

  There was a heavy silence as he led me up the dock and to a tiny staircase that looked to be the length of the Great Wall of China. Only, it was carved up the side of a steep embankment.

  I walked for exercise because my high school gym teacher told me it was the closest I could get to actual physical exertion without hurting myself. So climbing up the side of a mountain was not on my list of all-time favorite things to do, but I started the trek anyway.

  Half-way through, my thighs were burning, and I had a splitting ache in my side as I grasped the railing beside us.

  “This is not the same place you took me last weekend,” I huffed.

  Ryland smiled and paused to let me rest.

  “It is, but you came by car. Not boat.”

  “And you prefer the boat?” I wheezed.

  A dark look passed over his face before he nodded tightly. “It’s tradition.”

  I didn’t have any clue what that meant, but the solemn look on his face was enough to kick my butt into action again. There were so few moments he was happy, and tonight was one of them. Until I opened my big mouth.

  Again I questioned why it mattered to me, but there was no logic to my madness.

  When we finally traversed the great wild and landed on flat ground, I was rewarded with the most breathtaking view I’d ever seen. Sitting atop the bluff was a Victorian style mansion most definitely not built anytime this century. There was an actual rolling expanse of grass and lush greenery all around us. It was as private as private could get in San Francisco.

  When I turned around, I was again rewarded with panoramic views of the city’s skyline and the Golden Gate Bridge. I couldn’t stop taking it all in, and it was only when I looked at Ryland that I saw how carefully he was watching me.

  “What is this place?” I asked.

  “This is my home. On Belvedere Island.”

  “It’s so beautiful…” That word didn’t even do it justice, but it was the only one I could think of.

  He didn’t reply. He led me up another staircase and unlocked the back door. I followed him inside, taking in every nuance of the place. Each room we passed through was filled with lush draperies and rich, bold colors decorated the walls. Golds and reds, creams and beiges accented the mahogany colored floors and accents. The furnishings were extravagant, plush earthen tones that loomed larger than life beneath the vaulted ceilings. It was the most beautiful home I’d ever seen.

  I wanted to stop to take every inch of it in, but Ryland was quick to lead me up the large wooden staircase that wound itself towards the top of the house.

  He stopped on the second level and walked down another long corridor before opening a set of pale blue French doors to reveal the master suite.

  He set my bags on a velvet ottoman in the corner of the room and turned towards me. “This is where you’ll be sleeping. The bathroom is through there as you probably remember.”

  As I glanced around the room, I tried to recall the small details I’d picked up during my last stay. It was so different seeing it in color.

  “You can take a bath if you’d like,” he suggested. “Are you hungry?”

  “No.” I smiled, liking his first suggestion much better. A bath sounded nice right now.

  “Okay.” He eased towards the door as though he were relieved. Perhaps he was second guessing himself for bringing me here after all. “Well, I have some work to do. There’s a library down the hall on the right if you get bored. And of course, the televisions work as well.”

  I nodded and let him slip away without any protest, sensing he needed to put some distance between us.

  I made my way into the bathroom and eyed the clawfoot tub. Forget libraries or televisions. This was where I’d be spending the next hour.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Something stirred me from sleep, and it took me a moment to realize it was Ryland.

  He was hovering over me, kissing his way along my throat. On instinct, my hand came up and threaded through his hair. His moved between my legs and started to rub against my panties.

  “I like this,” he groaned.

  He’d only touched me for a minute, and already I could barely string together a coherent sentence.

  “What?”

  “Having you in my bed whenever I want,” he murmured.

  I thought that was the whole point of the game. But right then, I didn’t really care. All I cared about was the heat his hands created on my body. The ache between my thighs that burned only for him.

  I ran my hands over his muscular back, and he leaned down and nipped my lower lip.

  “Tell me you like it too,” he insisted.

  There was something in his voice that told me this wasn’t an order. He really wanted to know if I liked it. The hormones surging through my body gave me permission to be honest.

  “I think you already know the answer to that,” I whispered.

  He stopped and held me captive with the intensity of his stare. “I want to hear you say it.”

  His entire being was like a vortex, pulling me in and devouring me completely. How could I ever deny him?

  “I like it,” I admitted. “But I like it better when you treat me badly. It makes me remember not to get too close to you.”

  He smiled, and I was mortified. God, I couldn’t believe I’d just said that to him.

  His eyes drank me in, inch by vulnerable inch, committing it all to what was no doubt a photographic memory. The places where I was soft were what he lingered on the longest. Where a spark of the familiar fire that was always present inside of him flared to life.

  His fingers continued to rub me through the fabric of my underwear, leaving me just on the edge of sanity. I needed more.

  At this point, I would have let him string me up and whip me all night long if it was what he wanted to do. I half expected it. So when he reached down and gave me a gentle kiss, it surprised me. It lacked his usual roughness and held the promise of something more. Something dangerous.

&nbs
p; He kissed his way down my belly, and I arched into his touch. When he got to the apex of my thighs, he nuzzled against the fabric of my panties and inhaled.

  “You smell so fucking good,” he whispered.

  I moaned, and he lifted my hips and slid my panties off. I expected him to tease and torture me the way he always did, but he didn’t. He leaned forward and lifted my thighs over his shoulders, burying his face between my legs.

  I jerked and bucked against him, squeezing the covers in my fists.

  “Ryland.”

  I was panting, desperate, and it was driving him crazy.

  His tongue lapped at my clit while he stuffed me so full of his fingers I couldn’t breathe. I sucked in mouthfuls of air as I clamped down around him. Shockwaves of pleasure ricocheted through my body, plunging me into the hypnotic state only he could induce.

  He groaned and nuzzled against my thigh before collapsing beside me. I reached for his arm, wondering what he was doing. I blinked up at him, his eyes soft and calm, his breathing even and relaxed. Ryland was comfortable being still, I’d come to realize. That was when he was in his element. He wielded that stillness like a weapon, making me wait in agony for my next fix.

  “What about you?” I whispered.

  He smiled. “I want you to ride me, baby girl.”

  “Oh.”

  His request made me nervous, being on display for him like that. I didn’t even know how to do what he asked. But I didn’t want to displease him, and that’s how I knew I was lost.

  I crawled up his body, pausing to kiss him in places like he’d done to me. I wanted to see how he would react. When my lips dragged across his abs, and he shivered, I smiled against him. He was giving me free rein, and I kind of liked it.

  I straddled his hips and positioned myself against his cock. It lay hot and heavy against his belly, and I had the strangest urge to rub against it. So I did.

  When I slid my arousal against him, he groaned. It spurred me on, and for a while I just enjoyed rocking back and forth along his length, teasing him for a change.