“Is that a red?”
Fuck, no. She shook her head, still wrapped around him so tightly she barely knew where he stopped and she began. Shudders pulsed through her even as he circled her clit and fucked her harder with his fingers, and she was—could she—?
“Let go,” he coaxed. “Give it to me. Want to feel you come again, your pussy tightens up so pretty around my fingers. Gimme, don’t hold back—”
The second climax made her scream. Her entire body spasmed, her legs clamping down around his wrist, and he was pressing exactly where she needed to, just inside, and she couldn’t breathe.
“That’s it, beautiful, that’s exactly right.”
This time, as she returned to herself, he gentled his hand, not pulling away but slowly stopping the torturous pleasure of his fingers on her flesh.
“Good?” he asked.
She nodded, wrung out, barely enough power left in her muscles to manage even that.
He gave her pussy one last soft caress before slipping free of her. She let out a soft, mournful noise that drew a chuckle from him. Patting her thigh, he closed her legs.
He set her down with infinite care, and she was floating on a cloud as she stared at the ceiling. He was moving around, but he was never far. The sounds of rustling fabric helped her find him in the room.
And then he was there again beside her, stripped down to black boxers, as close to naked as she’d ever seen him. Her face cracked with the force of her smile.
Jesus, he was beautiful. All sculpted muscle and just the right amount of bulk. Golden skin and dark, wiry hair, and a cock the size of a house. She hummed in pleasure, still loose from coming so hard and from . . . something else. A release that went even deeper, straight down to her bones. She swept her arm across the sheets until she connected with the hard plane of his thigh.
“I still need to come, gorgeous girl.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You get to choose.” He danced his fingers across her hip then to the achy, swollen center of her satisfaction. “I can fuck you here.” He dipped just barely inside before moving on, trailing damp fingertips up her torso. “Or here.” He tugged at her lip with his thumb. Then his hand dropped lower again. He tweaked each nipple in turn, and her breath got caught in her lungs. Stroking over the hollow between her breasts, he left no question of what he was talking about. “Or here.”
A whole new kind of thrill shot like lightning through her veins. It wasn’t as if she’d never gotten a guy off before, either before or after she’d gotten hers, but this was different.
This was him using her.
She shivered, warmth surging through her veins.
His fingers lingered between her breasts, his gaze staying there, too. A flash of intuition broke through her haze.
And then she heard herself speaking, as if from a long, long way away. “You can, Sir.”
“Can what?”
She swallowed hard. How would he put it? What would turn him on? “Fuck my tits.”
The darkness in his eyes went molten. “Just what I was hoping you’d say.”
In a single deft move, he straddled her chest, the corded muscles of his thighs bunching as he lowered his boxers to reveal his cock. It looked so good, flushed and hard, the tip wet. Huffing out a breath, he took a stroke up his length. His fingers came away slick, and she made a needy noise at the rear of her throat, craning her neck.
“Kitten wants a taste?”
She wanted all of him. Anything she could get. Nodding, she lifted higher, straining until he deigned to swipe his fingertips over her lips. She licked the taste of him from his skin, grateful for even that, chasing him when he pulled away. But then he pushed her back. She whined, restlessly needy.
Grasping her wrists in his hands, he brought her palms to the outsides of her breasts. “Here.” He pressed her breasts together. “Hold them. Like that. Make a nice tight place for me to fuck.”
Euphoria tingled all the way to her toes. She did as he said, and he slipped his fingers through the valley she had made, moaning.
“Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “Gonna feel so good.” He leaned over her, putting his cock so close to her hungry mouth, but not quite close enough, and she whined.
When he reared up again, it was with a bottle of lube she hadn’t even noticed before in his hand. Flipping the cap, he lifted it high. Slick, cool fluid drizzled over her chest, until her skin was shining. Until she was just how he wanted her, and her head went dizzy with desire.
“Fuck,” he hissed, cock searingly hot as he dragged it through the pool he’d made. He spread the wetness around, flesh gliding easily. Then she pressed her breasts together tighter, and he half collapsed forward, bracing himself with a hand beside her head. “Fuck, that’s it, just like that. Been dying to fuck these forever. Shit—”
His hips thrust faster into that channel. The low, pleased noises he made just spun her higher and higher until she was nothing but feeling.
Nothing but a vessel. A warm, soft place for him to put his cock, and she was exactly what he wanted, she was perfect—
She had no idea how long he’d been going. He could have kept at it for hours and she would have been here, flying on delight, wrapped up in his taste and the feeling of his body. But eventually, his strokes began to stutter. His hand clasped into a fist beside her head.
“That’s it, gorgeous. You take me so well. Such perfect tits, gonna come all over them. Squeeze me, harder, yes, that’s—” His voice cut off.
She closed her eyes at the first thick, wet pulse. Letting out a groan she felt between her legs, he painted her skin. Marked her. And it would be a mess, but it didn’t matter. Nothing did. She was wrapped in a cloud. She had given this to him.
And nothing had ever felt so right in her life.
“We really should talk about this at some point.” Dane sat against the headboard, the sheets draped over his outstretched legs.
Humming in a vague, noncommittal sort of agreement, Lexie nuzzled at his hip. She lay curled on her side, her head in his lap, everything about her relaxed and easy. The lines around her eyes were gone, the tightness to her shoulders erased. It made his heart give a stuttering, clenching squeeze.
After he’d finished emptying himself across her chest, he’d stripped her down and laid her out. Cleaned her up but stayed close. After the way she’d crashed the first time, he didn’t think he’d ever stray far from her side in the aftermath of a scene again.
Definitely not one as intense as that had been. He still didn’t know what was going on in her head while they were together like that, but it was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen in his life. She let go so beautifully. She found something she needed.
Stroking her hair from her face, he gazed down at her with soft eyes. He’d had a few long-term arrangements with subs before, but they weren’t the norm. The women he spent time with were fun, a good release. An escape from all the parts of his life he needed the distraction from.
They didn’t usually get under his skin, though. Whatever they found beneath his crop and on their knees was their business.
With Lexie . . . There was this big piece of him that wanted it to be his.
It didn’t bother him, exactly, but it didn’t sit easy with him, either. This had the potential to get complicated, and with everything else going on in his life, complicated was something he tried to avoid.
It was one more thing they needed to talk about. Right after he finished figuring out whether or not she had any clue what she was doing sleeping with a kinky motherfucker like him.
An uncomfortable ripple churned through his gut. A responsible Dom would’ve had that conversation with her on day one. At least they’d finally gotten through the basics of a safe word today, but there was a lot more to safe, sane, and consensual than traffic-light colors.
There were limits. Actual discussions about why she got so squirrelly at the idea of being tied up.
Why she melted at the sligh
test hint of praise.
Tangling his fingers in her hair again, he sighed. Whatever that conversation was going to look like, it would have to wait for another day. She was too sweet like this. Probably too tired, too.
As if she could read his mind, she lifted her hand to her mouth to barely stifle an epic yawn. He chuckled, glancing at the clock. It was so late, it was swiftly approaching early.
Running his fingertips along the silky, bare skin of her shoulder and down her arm, he considered his words before opening his mouth. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”
She groaned, flattening her hand over her eyes. “I don’t know.”
“Sorry to bring up a sore subject.”
She dropped her arm, letting it fall across his thighs. “What do you think my chances are of getting anything accomplished at Escudo?”
Oh, hell. He’d been very clear back in New York that his weekends were his own, but he’d known full well when he’d been volunteered for this trip that he wouldn’t have that luxury. Tonight had been a nice break, a good release. If Lexie needed him tomorrow, he’d probably mostly be able to keep it together.
But then again, maybe that wasn’t what she was trying to suggest.
“Honestly?” He waited until she nodded before continuing, choosing what he said with care. “If you expect anyone else to be around, you’re going to be disappointed.” He swallowed. “If you try to make them be around, you’re probably going to get stonewalled even worse than you have been this past week.”
She sighed. The easiness of a minute ago still lingered, but a little of the tension had crept in, too. “I was afraid that might be the case.”
He braced for her to pick herself up anyway and maybe go check some stock reports or something.
But all she did was turn over, shifting to lie on her back, pillowing her head on her arm.
“Your way of doing things worked pretty well today, you know.”
“Oh?”
Her fingertips grazed his side, sending licks of heat in their wake. “You got me those figures I needed from Miranda’s assistant.”
“I did.”
“You have a good rapport with all the guys.”
Desert-dry, he said, “I had to work awfully hard for it.”
“I mean it. You brought something special to the table today. Something I couldn’t.” It seemed to pain her to admit. He admired her all the more for doing it anyway. “You get them. And they get you. What you tried tonight, taking me out with them, it was . . . nice.”
“You charmed them all by yourself. They just had to give you the chance.”
A wry smile curled her lips, her eyes softening. “And you were the one who convinced them to do that. Maybe . . . maybe you were right. They need someone they can relate to.”
“It certainly seems to help.” He didn’t quite know where she was going with this, but he was starting to get an inkling. And he liked it.
“So . . . maybe, if we’re not going to get any work done tomorrow . . .” Her fingertips trailed lower, darting to dance across his hip. “You can help me out with something. Show me how to be a better Spaniard.”
His throat went tight. “How’s that?”
“Show me how to loosen up little.” Rising to sit, she looked him squarely in the eye, one perfect brow arched. Heat dripped into her tone. “How to . . . let go.”
The suggestion was a punch straight through his chest.
It was what he’d been telling her since day one. Since the very first time he’d touched her on the plane. Since he’d dug his thumbs between her shoulder blades and worked the knots from her spine.
With a fire lighting inside him, he reached for her hands. Clenching them in his own, he met her gaze. Gave her all of that fierceness right back.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
chapter TWELVE
“You know.” Lexie glanced around. They were navigating the crowds at a giant, old-school market of some sort. It was loud enough that anyone who wanted to would have a hard time listening in, and she couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to. Still, she leaned a little closer. “For someone who had an awful lot of kinky sex this week, you still don’t seem particularly relaxed.”
And his anxiety had been getting harder to ignore. After a leisurely breakfast courtesy of room service and absolutely no checking of her work accounts, he’d suggested they go see the city, and she’d gone along with it. He was in charge today, after all. She was trying to let go.
But it wasn’t easy. Especially when her supposed authority on chilling out and going with the flow was tenser than she was.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t stop or slow down. “I’m fine.”
“Sure.”
“I just—” He huffed out a breath through his nose, turning sideways to fit through the sliver of space behind a cluster of shoppers barking orders at someone selling giant hocks of ham. Glad she’d worn flats today, she hustled to keep up. “I get a little claustrophobic sometimes, all right?”
She furrowed her brows. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Jaw set stiffly, he kept on surging forward, and okay, fine, maybe she’d asked him to take the lead today, but this was ridiculous. Quickening her pace to catch up, she grabbed him by his sleeve and yanked at it hard. He turned to her, lines of confusion etched between his eyes, but she wasn’t stopping to explain. Tugging insistently, she led him down the row of stalls until they reached the end of it.
The instant they emerged from between two columns, the crowd around them parted, and there they were, in a bright patch of sunshine with room around them to breathe. The creases in his forehead disappeared immediately.
“Better?” she asked.
“A little,” he conceded.
Right. “Why the hell were we even in there?”
She didn’t have any particular attachment to seeing all of Barcelona’s greatest marketplaces or anything.
He looked away, fiddling with something on his phone. “It’s something you’re supposed to do.”
“Says who?”
He turned back to her with one brow raised. He held up his phone, revealing what looked like a list of some kind. “The internet.”
“Oh, well, clearly you have to do everything the internet tells you to.”
Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. “You asked me to help you loosen up a bit. I decided that meant getting you to take a day off for once. Doing some sightseeing seemed as good a way as any to do that.”
“But that doesn’t mean we need to see sights that you don’t care about.”
And she never would have believed it, but apparently it was possible to make this big, strong man go pink in his cheeks. He gestured vaguely at her body. “I thought you’d like shopping.”
Oh. Oh.
That was . . . actually kind of sweet. “I do.” Darting her gaze around, she took a deep breath.
Last night, she’d refused to hold his hand in public—or even in the privacy of the hired car her company was paying for. Her reputation was her life, and she’d worked so hard to build it. To shore it up after her mistake with Jordan had been brought into the light. She still wasn’t comfortable with the people she worked with knowing about . . . whatever she and Dane were doing together on this trip.
But here, in the wilds of a foreign city, surrounded by strangers and a language she could barely understand . . .
It didn’t seem like so much of a risk.
Sliding her hand through the crook of his elbow, she squeezed his arm. She paused, waiting to be struck by lightning or something, only the burst from above never came.
She let out the breath she’d been holding. Glancing upward, she found his gaze trained on her hand, his lips parted.
“But,” she said, just a little bit shaky, “that doesn’t mean we have to do that today. Especially not somewhere you hate.”
His throat bobbed. “Oh.”
She gestured at h
is phone. “So what else is on that list of things to do?”
He handed it over. She started to scroll through it, only to be jostled by someone on their way out of the market.
“Come on.” Back in charge again, Dane led her farther from the crowd, toward an open square and a bench.
Sitting down beside him, she skimmed through the article on his screen. Some top ten list of experiences to have in Barcelona. Sure enough, La Boqueria Market had been a must, but they were done with that. She kept looking, but she snuck glances at him as she did.
He was definitely breathing easier now than he had been in that throng. Which just made her wonder . . .
“What’s a guy with claustrophobia doing living in New York?”
Just like that, the ease to his expression disappeared, replaced by something bitter and hard. “I told you last night. I ended up doing a lot of things I didn’t want to after my brother died.”
Oh. Right. He had.
She sat there for a few seconds, thumb frozen where it hovered above his screen, trying to figure out how to extricate her foot from her mouth. When nothing came to her, she snapped her jaw shut and grimaced.
He waved her off. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s fine.”
Yeah, she didn’t buy that for a second. She didn’t know how to backtrack, though, and just moving on as if nothing had been said didn’t seem right, either.
Fortunately, he was the one to speak. “Last night.” He paused, clearing his throat. “You asked me what I do to escape.”
What did that have to do with anything? Taking it for the out it was, she played along. “And you told me kinky sex.”
“So I did.” One corner of his mouth flickered up, but he kept his gaze trained somewhere in the distance. The same way he had at the bar when they’d started to get too close to what were apparently some painful truths. “That wasn’t the whole story, though.”
“No?”
Finally, he looked at her. “Not even close. I’m not knocking it or anything.” The return of a teasing lilt to his voice made something unstick in her chest.
“I should hope not.”
“My weekends. When I tell you I’m not on call. It’s usually because I’m not even in the city.”
Nine Kinds of Naughty Page 13
