Hot Ink
Page 28
The whiskers around his mouth moved, and his lips became nearly invisible. He didn’t like her request, but he wasn’t saying no, either. Good. Because she was a different person than the girl he’d left behind and she damn well knew herself now.
“Alright. Okay.” He handed her their dinner. “Put this in the oven then?”
She took the plastic bag of take-out and nodded.
“After that, I want you to go to the back guest room, the one without any furniture in it. Strip and wait for me.”
How was it that an order like that both made her breathe easier and her heart beat faster?
She wasn’t about to question what worked. It just did. If she was fucked up, she didn’t want to know because this felt too right to be wrong.
“Okay. Yes, Sir. And thank you.” She smiled as her attention went from the whole clusterfuck of a day to this moment. Here. With him.
“You might not thank me later.” His voice dropped and the muscles around her chest constricted. Every sore place and bite mark seemed to throb at once, driving home just what she’d bitten off. He nodded toward the kitchen. “Get going.”
Renee took a step toward the kitchen and Kit swatted her ass, hard enough she yelped and quick-stepped it into the next room. She glanced over her shoulder, but Kit was already gone. She stared at the place he’d occupied. He was something remarkable, under that beard and silly hat he persisted in wearing. Kit had pulled himself up out of a life he hated and created a new one that fit him better. She didn’t know many people with the strength of character to do that. Fame hadn’t changed him, either. She could see her Kit, the one she’d led down the dark path all those years ago.
Was she weak for changing her course? In the wake of her parent’s death, she’d done what she had to do to get by and take care of Remy. But could things be different now?
She put their dinner in the oven and leaned against the counter.
They would play tonight, and then they would have sex. There wasn’t a question in her mind that it would be amazing, that it was what she needed right now, but was it good for her? She couldn’t keep her emotions in check where he was concerned. Hell, she couldn’t do it when he wasn’t around, now that he was here, she was going to fall, and fall hard. She was kidding herself when she thought they could play around and everything would go back to normal.
He was going to leave, and she was going to be devastated. Again. She might not know when, but at least she knew he would leave. Eventually.
She walked down the hall, one foot in front of the other, head held high. When she broke, she had friends to help her pick up the pieces, and maybe finally Kit Carson would be worked out of her system. Or maybe she would be ruined for all other men. Whatever happened, she would submit to him tonight.
Renee stepped into the empty room and pulled the chain on the ceiling fan until it hit the dim setting on the lights. She could hear Kit moving around in another part of the house. If she had to guess, he was in the master bedroom. Well, his master bedroom. Mick thought she didn’t know he was leaving it to Kit, but she did. She didn’t think owning a house here would keep him in Baton Rouge for a second, but it was a nice idea.
She pulled off her t-shirt and shimmied out of her jeans, folding everything and placing it on the shelf in the closet. Her underwear and bra went on top. She held out her arms, admiring the marks left on her body from the night before. The bite marks would stay with her for a long time, while the scratches from the glove and picks were already fading. She pressed her thumb against the bite on her shoulder and winced at the sharp jab of pain. It hurt, but it was also a tactile reminder that Kit wasn’t a dream; what happened between them was real.
“Are you poking your bruises?” Kit stood in the doorway, a blue bag in hand.
She grinned and dropped her hands to her sides. “Guilty.”
“Are you a pain slut?” He stepped into the room and put his bag on the floor next to the wall.
“Not really. I’d say my threshold for pain is lower than most.”
“Good to know.” He held out his hands so she gave him hers. Like the first time, he held them in front of him, his big fingers wrapped around hers. “I’m not sure this is the best idea tonight, but I’m trusting you know yourself better than I do. I’m just concerned for your safety.”
“Thank you, Sir.” She smiled and stared up at his eyes, admiring the snowflake pattern of grays.
“I don’t want to do anything too heavy. Between last night and today, I think you need a break. Do you trust me to make the call for what we’re going to do?”
“I do, Sir.”
“I like you saying that.” He grinned.
Her smile widened and they grinned at each other, and suddenly she was twenty-one again. Giddy, excited and completely stupid to not dig her claws into this amazing guy who thought she hung the stars.
Kit cupped her cheeks and kissed her brow. She wrapped her arms around his waist, shoving her hands up under his shirt to feel him as she gave him a quick squeeze.
“Do you want the shirt off?” he asked.
“Yes. I like seeing and touching you.”
“I’m not promising you’ll get to do either.”
“Jerk.”
“That’s Sir Jerk to you.”
He pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it on top of his bag, keeping their gazes locked. Despite his humorous comment, her mind was all business.
It took her breath away, the way he commanded her with a simple glance. It wasn’t something she’d felt often, but with Kit, he was master over her body, her submission and her heart. She stood no chance against him.
Kit grabbed her ass with both hands, bringing her flush against his chest. She looped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his chest, loving the way his chest hair was rough on her nipples, how he found those little bruises on her bottom and pressed them, bringing all the sensations from last night to the forefront of her memory. She gasped and laid her head on him, lifting up on the balls of her feet as he found one that hurt more than the others.
The old carpet scraped against her feet. How was Peaches? The air was chilly and humid. Would the burglar come back to her house? The curtains over the window were gone, but the blinds were still in place. Why wasn’t anything missing from her house? The buckle on Kit’s belt dug into her stomach. A hundred little observations and thoughts flitted through her brain, trying to distract her, but she pushed them all to the side and clung to the here and now. She couldn’t worry about some kid vandalizing her home, or how Mick’s house had changed. Not when she was wrapped around the hot, hard body of the man who usually only lived in her dreams.
“Renee?” he said into her ear. His warm breath caressed her neck, blowing her hair and tickling her.
“Hm?” She squirmed and peeked up at him.
“This isn’t going to work if you aren’t here with me.”
“I am.” She sighed. “I’m trying to be.”
Kit dug a hand into her hair, right up at the roots, and twisted it. She cried out as he bent her head back, while keeping her chest flush against him. He scraped his beard along her throat. She clung to his shoulders and kicked her foot up as her mind went blank. Blessed quiet. Like they’d suddenly gone from the house to a white room where the only things that existed were Kit—and her.
He bit the tendon at the side of her neck and her body went slack. Her knees knocked together and she felt herself slipping toward the ground. Kit’s grip on her hair and waist kept her upright, but only by the sheer strength of his body. She hadn’t had much of an opportunity to map it with her hands, but he’d grown into an incredible specimen of man. The average woman wouldn’t find him that attractive with his husky build, tattoos and beard, but Renee looked at him and saw the kind of man who could—and would—use her and protect her.
“You with me now?” he whispered.
Renee whimpered and tried to nod. Words were too much effort.
“I will always have you,” he said.
Kit squeezed his fist a little tighter and pulled on her hair. She let out the breath she’d been holding and her eyelids drifted close as her mind went...silent...blessed, beautiful, nothingness.
Chapter Six
Renee’s stomach quivered as Kit’s lips grazed her jaw and cheek. He kissed the corner of her mouth and her breath shuddered out of her lungs. She turned her face toward him, seeking the contact of his mouth, the bruising roughness of his kiss.
Instead of a kiss, Kit stepped away from her, leaving her swaying on unsteady feet. He tapped the backs of her knees with his bare foot and pressed her head down. Renee sank to her knees, but he guided her to the floor to lie on her stomach. Before she could rethink her position, Kit straddled her waist.
She opened her eyes as he grabbed her wrists and brought them behind her.
Rope was dragged around her wrists, fast and hard. The fibers burned her skin and she hissed, trying to jerk out of his hold, but Kit already had her bound. She pulled against the ropes, but there was no give to them.
“What are you doing?” Her tongue felt thick and unwieldy in her mouth.
“Something.” He jabbed her in her side with his fingers.
She yelped and bucked, but he didn’t budge.
“Think you’re going to get out of this one? I don’t think so.” His fingers ran up and down her sides.
Renee jerked and wiggled as the uncontrollable urge to laugh and giggle assailed her. She strained against the ropes, twisting and shifting as much as she could to escape his evil fingers. Kit sat down harder, pinning her to the floor and keeping her at his mercy. She kicked her foot up and hit him in the back, not once, but several times as she thrashed, laughing and bemoaning her lack of a tickling limit.
“That’s not playing fair,” Kit said. He shifted and grabbed her by the ankle.
Renee wailed and rolled, but merely wound up on her side, facing away from him as he caught her in a three-legged hog tie. Before he could capture her other leg, she pulled it up and in front of her, laughing to the point her vision blurred with tears and endorphins had blood rushing to her head.
Kit said something she couldn’t hear and forced her back onto her stomach using his grip on the ropes binding her wrists to ankle.
She stretched out her leg and when he leaned out to grasp it, she swung it out to the side, laughing and thrown off balance again. Kit joined in and sat down hard next to her, but he had her wayward leg in his grasp, and there was no escaping him. She jerked and continued to struggle to the best of her ability, but he’d won. In short order, she was bent into a human fold-over.
“There.” Kit sat next to her and patted her ass. “That’s what you get for thrashing around.” He poked her tender sides once more and she flinched away from him—and he didn’t pull her back.
Renee rolled away from him until she lay awkwardly on her side facing him.
Kit had his elbow propped on his knee, grinning at her. He looked—happy. Carefree. She loved seeing him like this, and that he’d found a life that was healthier. But most of all, she loved that she could see the boy he’d been.
“Do you think you’re getting away?” he asked.
She shook her head.
Kit leaned toward her and poked her ribs and stomach. She tried to double over, but the ropes held her his prisoner, and she couldn’t roll any farther.
“Can’t get away now, can you?” He reached down and squeezed either side of her thigh above her knee. That spot that made her muscles scream and laughter bubble up from her belly. She wiggled as much as she could, inching away from him, and he merely stretched out, still poking and prodding all those evil, ticklish places.
She got just out of his reach, or so she thought. He grabbed her by the knee and dragged her across the rough, old carpet. Renee squealed and pouted as her attempts at escape were thwarted, but this time he lay down facing her.
Not only was he rough, rowdy, and sexy, but he could also have fun and cut up. How many times had their play involved infectious laughter before? Too many to count.
Kit placed his hand under the side of her head, supporting her while his other hand rested on her side; a pleasant, warm weight she still flinched at.
“Relax.” One side of his mouth kicked up and his whiskers quivered.
She’d never thought beards were sexy, but it worked on Kit. He had a touch of the backwater bayou boy with the tattooed bad ass, while being one hundred percent Kit. God, he made her heart flip-flop in painful ways. Especially when he smiled at her.
He stroked her hair away from her face and leaned in to kiss her brow. She closed her eyes and held her breath, expecting another vicious jab, but she only felt the warmth of his touch. He kissed the place between her brows, the tip of her nose and skipped over her mouth to her chin. She smiled and felt the puff of breath from his silent chuckle.
The ass was toying with her.
Kit lifted her head just a bit more and tilted her face. Her lungs ceased to work as his lips sealed over hers. She inhaled and he breathed with her. His tongue slipped into her mouth, gently fluttering over her lips. She shifted her weight toward him, yearning to be closer, to press against him. He gently pinched her lower lip between his teeth. The bit of flesh throbbed, still sore from his rougher attention.
His hand coasted up and down her side as he continued to make love to her mouth, thrusting his tongue in and out, slow and easy. She pressed her thighs together as warmth pooled low in her stomach. What she wouldn’t give to wrap herself around him, dig her fingers into that beard and kiss him senseless. The unhurried manner of his attention was about to drive her crazy.
With her hands bound to her ankles, every shift had a price. If she moved her arms, her legs. She tugged on her arms, wanting to touch him, and her legs were forced up farther. She lost her balance and rolled almost onto her stomach, if it weren’t for Kit. He chuckled and her eyes snapped open. She glared at him. He knew exactly the predicament he’d put her in.
Kit’s hand slid from her ribs to just below her breast. He pushed his palm up and over the candy-pink heart tattooed around her areola. She hissed as his rough skin abraded her nipple. His gaze remained pinned on her face as he reversed the motion. She gritted her teeth and her eyes drifted closed. Her nipples had never been as sensitive as other women’s until she’d had them pierced. Now, even the delicate lining of her bra was sometimes too much when she was aroused. The feel of his roughened skin was heaven and hell.
She arched her back, almost grasping her ankles, pushing her chest toward him. Warmth enveloped the sensitized nipple and her jaw dropped on a moan. Kit’s tongue flicked the tiny bit of jewelry back and forth, from side to side. He wedged one hand between her waist and the floor, while the other grasped her ass. His short nails dug into her as the suction of his mouth grew more intense. She panted and her body tensed. She wanted to move, to wrap her legs around him, to dig her nails into him...but he was master here.
His teeth gently bit down around her areola. She held her breath as he reached the threshold of pain and hovered there. He let go, and his warmth left her. She cracked her eyes open and watched him get to his feet and straddle her.
Kit grabbed the length of rope between her hands and ankles. She had the presence of mind to let go of her feet before he rolled her to her other side.
Instead of lying down next to her, Kit went to his knees. The rough denim warmed her thighs. He planted his hands on either side of her shoulders and leaned in, but he bypassed her mouth and dipped his head to her other breast. This time he wasn’t gentle. He took her nipple in his mouth and bit down hard enough she saw bursts of white behind her eyelids. She groaned, gritting her teeth and keeping her scream tight in her throat.
He grabbed her other breast and twisted the jewelry, twisting to the point of pain.
The scream built in her throat until it came out in a high-pitched wa
il of want. Her clit throbbed, her breasts ached and damn him if she wasn’t ready to claw her way out of this rope and climb on top of him.
She bent her head, straining against her bonds and bit his shoulder, but Kit merely laughed. He rolled his arm and shook her off, straightening.
Kit grabbed her by her knees and flipped her onto her stomach. She grunted as her bonds readjusted. He dragged her across the room. The carpet was rough on her skin, especially her breasts. The bite marks throbbed and burned.
The clank of metal on metal stilled her weak attempts to get away. Invisible, icy fingers danced up her spine. She tried to peer over her shoulder, but Kit had already settled directly behind her on the ground. Her head pointed toward the closet, the door was behind her and to her left. Which meant he had easy access to the toy bag he’d left near the wall.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Kit merely hummed. Chain links hit another metal...something. There were some sounds she’d learned, but whatever the links were hitting was a mystery to her.
He lifted one of her knees and placed a leather band under her. She squeezed her calf close to the back of her thigh as he tried to pull the other end through. He slapped the bottom of her foot and she yelped.
“If you don’t want me to tickle that, you’ll lift your leg a bit.”
She obeyed, but the movement meant her shoulders and knees came off the ground just a bit. He buckled the restraint around one knee.
What was he doing?
Apprehension made her stomach flip-flop. She pressed her thighs together, not sure she was quite ready for what he would do to her.
Kit grabbed her other knee and pulled her legs apart. Then a bit more. And a bit more until she was spread wide. The motion once more forced her to lift her shoulders from the ground. He quickly buckled another restraint around her knee and let go. Except even without his hands forcing her open, there was no give to her bonds. A cold, bar of metal prodded her calf.
A bar, with restraints on either end.
The bastard had a spreader bar between her knees.