by Andi Madden
The nerve of him, sending her a new bed.
She’d been so flabbergasted when she saw the two delivery guys pack up her old bed, by the time she protested, they just gave her a customer service number if she wanted to complain and left her with a king-sized bed that made her bedroom look dainty.
She’d slept like a baby for the last four weeks tucked inside it while occasionally waking up panting because her dreams had taken on a decidedly erotic edge.
The bed was the only evidence she hadn’t imagined Ben.
The bed…and the check for fifty grand.
She stripped off her sweaty work clothes and stepped into the shower. After a quick rinse down, she wrapped herself in a towel, looking forward to a dreamless night.
Shaking her head to get rid of the droplets of water clinging to her hair, she froze. The wind was howling louder than before, as if someone had opened a window. A cool draft wafted into the bath from the gap underneath the door and tickled her bare legs.
Her stomach did a somersault as she stared at the closed bathroom door. She pulled her shoulders back and looked around for something to wear. There was nothing. Securing the towel more tightly, she opened the door, thinking she was prepared.
“This is breaking and entering,” she said, crossing her arms so he wouldn’t see her shaking hands. He sat on the windowpane facing inward. Goose bumps erupted on her skin, but not because of the cold air streaming into the room
“Only entering,” he said casually. “The window wasn’t locked.” He shot a look around the room, lingering on the bed, then on a stack of cardboard boxes.
She’d forgotten how big this guy was, but not that he had a dimple in his chin when he smiled.
Flustered, she grabbed the pile of clothes she had laid out for the next day and went into hiding inside the bathroom again. Trust him to turn up when she came fresh from the shower.
She slipped into underwear, a baggy button-down shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Not chic, but decidedly better than a towel.
“Why are you moving?” he called through the closed door.
“Not that it’s any of your concern but I can’t afford to stay here anymore,” she said, smoothing down the shirt as she stepped back into the bedroom.
His brow knitted, a vee-shaped frown on his forehead. “You didn’t get the reward?”
“It’s yours,” she said, feeling the same rage she had when the check had landed in the mailbox. “How dare you play the hero by manipulating me into turning over the evidence? I don’t need saving.”
Not quite true, she thought. He definitely saved her from making the biggest mistake of her life—setting a building, almost herself, on fire.
He closed his eyes as if she were being complicated. “I was afraid you would react like that.” Despite the weather, he wore only a tee and jeans but had a black leather bag strapped to his back, which he now dropped to the floor.
She waved toward her desk, wondering what was inside the bag. “Go ahead. The check is inside the drawer.”
“With your name on it,” he said calmly.
“I’ll cash it for you,” she shot back. “And while we are at it, what were you thinking with that.” She gave the bed a kick, instantly regretting it when pain seared into her foot.
“It was a gift.”
“I tried to return it,” she said, which wasn’t entirely true.
“Now that would have hurt my feelings,” he said, placing his hand over his heart.
“Bottom line,” she said, “it was uncalled for.”
“I broke your old bed.”
“Well, I already regretted that I tied you to it!” Must stop yelling, she thought, wishing he would tell her why he’d finally come back to her after all these weeks.
His eyebrow rose and he zipped open his backpack, slipped his hand inside, and she rose to her toes and craned her neck to find out what he had hidden inside but still couldn’t see a thing. “Are you angry at me?” he asked, fixing her with a dark stare.
“Why would I be angry?”
“Because I left you so long alone?”
Yes. A lump formed in her throat. “It’s not like I was wringing her hands waiting for you to show up again.”
“Of course you weren’t,” he said, making her squirm. “But in case you were, I had to wait until Simon got off my back for good. They also had their eyes on you for a while. But we’re good now.”
Again, he started rummaging through the backpack. “And I wanted to wait until it was confirmed that the Writer wasn’t going to be set free because of a procedural error.”
“What’s inside your bag?”
“Nosy much?” he replied, and to her disappointment, his hand emerged empty. “I’ll show you later,” he said, winking, and she realized he was just teasing her. “So, how have you been, honey?” He cocked his eyebrow.
“You know I hate being called that, don’t you?”
“But you taste like honey,” he said, his lowered voice sending shivers across her skin. “You taste sweet all over, but there’s one spot I especially enjoy.”
She wrapped her arms tighter around herslef, her nipples turning into aching points.
“Is that so,” she drawled, almost able to feel the sliding friction of his tongue between her legs. Damn him for turning her into a damp puddle of lust.
“Yes, that’s just so.” He took two steps toward her until his breath feathered over her face and she glanced up to meet his eyes. “I’ll show you.” Closing his hands around her waist, he pulled her close.
“Show me what?” she whispered when his lips brushed against hers. “This isn’t what I had in mind…”
“You can tell me later what you had on your dirty mind,” he said against her mouth.
She stiffened when the tip of his tongue touched the center of her bottom lip. The feeling shot straight between her legs.
“Love your mouth,” he said, and sucked her bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently. “Plump and wet and sweet,” he murmured, his tongue tracing her lips. “Made for kissing.”
His tongue delved deep, taking all. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she rose on tiptoe and threw herself into his kiss. He cupped her face, breathing hard, backing her up against the wall, seeking her mouth again.
The taste of him, the scent of his skin made her groan in lust. “You make me feel so weak,” she whispered.
“All I want is to touch you,” he said. “And allowing me to take care of you is not what I’d call weakness. It takes guts to trust someone.”
Maybe it was time to trust him, God knows, he’d proven himself enough to her. She lowered her hands to her sides, suddenly unable to meet his silent stare.
“Yes,” he said, and pulled his shirt over his head in one fluid motion and tossed it to the floor. “You will submit to me tonight.”
Her breath caught in her throat and she reached out to trace a finger along his flat abs and hard pecs.
Flattening her hands against his stomach, she trailed them up his chest and through the shock of dark hair. So male. All hard angles and corded strength. She traced her finger down, following the path the hair led until she reached the edge of his jeans. Rough denim against the pad of her fingertip, she traced over his bulging erection trapped inside.
She longed to feel him against her palm, the smooth hardness of his cock. Longed to flick her tongue against his shaft and taste his arousal. Longed to lick from his balls up to the thick head of his cock until she tasted the first drops of his come.
“I want you in my mouth,” she said, fingering at the metal buttons of his jeans.
“No.” His biceps flexed as he brushed her hand aside. “Tonight,” he said, and reached out to run his finger along her cheek, “you’ll submit to my wishes for a change.”
“Make me,” she whispered, knowing she’d uttered an invitation as well as a challenge.
“Don’t worry, I will.” He flicked open the buttons on her shirt, working his way up from the bo
ttom to the top. “And I’ll make you beg for more.”
Her breasts strained against the faded cotton of her sports bra. She wore underwear for comfort, not to arouse men, but he didn’t look put off as he ran an appraising glance over her décolletage before he discarded the blouse to the floor.
“Turn around,” he said.
When she did, he unclasped her bra. She pressed her hands over the cups and turned back to him. He reached out, sliding the straps from her shoulders, his gesture almost reverent.
“Lower your hands,” he said, and she let the bra drop to the floor, thrusting her chest out, longing to feel him kiss her breasts.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
He reached to his backpack and pulled a heavy duty cable cutter from it.
“What the heck, Ben?”
He reached out, grabbed the heavy roll of cable and made quick work of it, his skilled fingers wielding the cutter until he had a several different lengths of cable cut.
“Hands on your back,” he said, closing in on her, holding a cut-off piece of cable between his fingers.
“My hands?” she asked, taking another step away from him. A vision of herself bound and helpless and at his mercy turned up in her mind. Her breasts tightened, her entire body felt heavy, and the idea alone sent a spasm of lust through her pussy. “Make me.”
He pulled her hard against him and thrust his tongue between her lips and deep into her mouth. Taking his time, taking her breath, he ignored her attempts to struggle out of his tight embrace. She gasped for air, her body turning liquid under the strokes his tongue gave her, her heart speeding up to an alarming rate.
“Such a good girl,” he said, wiping his thumb over his bottom lip. “You’re made for hard kisses.” Closing in, he grabbed her by the shoulders. “Made for hard fucking.”
Oh God, yes.
His mouth came crushing down on hers, taking everything she had until she thought she’d die of lust. When she shoved at him again, his deep laugh sent goose bumps all over her skin. Sliding his hand into her hair and grabbing her by the nape of her neck, he backed her up against the iron footboard of the bed.
Moaning under his onslaught, she grew dizzy with the lust to feel him inside her. With a sigh, she explored the corded muscles beneath his skin.
He slipped his hand into the elastics of her sweatpants and pulled them over her bottom. The pants bunched down to her ankles, immobilizing her. Cupping her bottom with one hand, he made a low sound of approval in his throat when she froze. He slipped one finger beneath her panties. “Spread your legs,” he said, and his knee nudged between her thighs.
She clamped her legs together. “Don’t think so,” she said, but it came out rough and smoky, and it brought a smile to his face. Idly, he traced the outer edges of her panties, staying painfully away from the spot where she craved his touch the most.
The air whooshed out of her lungs as she landed flat on her chest and face, a heavy weight pressing her deep into the bed’s mattress. He’d thrown her so fast onto the bed, she hadn’t had time to blink, much less time to react.
He covered her from bottom to top and drew her hands over her head. Her breasts pressed flat against the mattress with each movement.
“Hands on your back, sweetheart.”
She pressed her face into the mattress, slowly crossing her wrists behind her back, her body shaking with the effort to control her breathing. She rubbed herslef against the bed, enjoying every little pressure she could get on her clit.
He flung cold cable around her wrists, knotted it tight. Experimentally, she tested her ties, but let out groan of frustration.
A light slap landed on her bottom. “Kneel,” he said, and then helped as she slid onto the mattress while she felt awkward for not being able to use her hands.
Her chest stuck out, her nipples two hard points, and she caught his appraising gaze when she kneeled with her legs slightly apart on the bed. She settled her bottom on her heels, keeping her back erect, painfully aware how her tied wrists pushed her shoulders back and her breasts forward.
He took a step away from the bed, taking a piece of cable and slapped it against his palm. “So, what to tie next,” he said, and a slap landed against her butt.
The cable stung, even though he’d hit her pantied bottom. She longed to feel it against bare skin. She wiggled her butt, partly to ease the pain, partly to invite him to touch her and wasn’t disappointed.
Leaning over the bed, he palmed her butt cheek, giving her a squeeze. He slipped his hand between her legs and pushed at her thighs, spreading her wider. Then trailed his fingers down her inner thighs and over the top of her calves. When he closed his hand firmly around her ankle, she sucked in her breath. “Not like this,” she said, trying to tug her feet away from under his grasp.
“Like what?” he asked, a laugh in his voice. One hand came around the nape of her neck and pressed her forward until her cheek rested on the mattress while her bottom was high in the air. He held her down with an iron hand. “Don’t move,” he growled, and the slap landing on her ass left her gasping with lust and pain.
His hand slipped inside her panties. When he found her, she closed her eyes in delight. He gave her long strokes from her clit over her pussy and back. Her bottom tingled as the pain subsided, mixing with the pleasure he gave her, making her wish he’d spank her again.
“Does that feel good,” he whispered, circling her slowly, teasingly. The swell of her arousal built with each lazy circle he drew, bringing her to the edge but never over as if he knew that his feathery strokes weren’t enough.
“Harder,” she moaned, thrusting her hips against his hand.
“Ask me to tie your feet,” he said, slipping two fingers inside her.
She bit her lip, wondering why he didn’t tie her spread-eagle to the bed, it seemed so much more comfortable. “You can tie me,” she said, wishing she hadn’t spoken because he stepped away from the bed. Not feeling his touch made her worry he would just leave again. “But I want to be on my back. Isn’t that how it’s usually done?”
“Is it? I wouldn’t know.” He laughed, a low rumble that made blood rush to her face in a hot tingle. “If I wanted you on your back, you would be.”
He slung the cable around her ankles, making quick work of it. The effect sent a shiver of sensation over her skin when she tried to move her legs and found she couldn’t. Pressing up from the mattress, she sat back on her heels, aware that she had no way of escaping his ties. The cable was as effective as if he had cast her in iron shackles.
“And ever felt so helpless?” he asked, a worrying smile on his lips.
Heart slamming against her rib cage, she shook her head, an odd sensation of fear combined with mind-numbing arousal taking her breath.
The sound of his metal belt buckle rang loud as he undid it and slid it off his jeans. “Do you feel good, sweetheart,” he whispered, but her gaze was transfixed on the leather belt in his hands.
“Lean forward,” he said, and when she didn’t comply, gave her a push against the shoulder. She winced as the cable bit into her skin when she landed on her face, leaving her ass up in the air, and the cable around her feet added something to the act she’d never felt before. Helplessness. Submission. Her throat went dry at the thought that she submitted to him in such a way, and that she didn’t mind. At all.
“I’ll make you feel so good,” he murmured, running his hand over her bare back and over each dip and hollow of her spine. “I’ll spank you now,” he said, caressing the cheeks of her butt through her panties. “Three times, with the leather belt. And then I’ll take off your panties.”
Licking her dry lips, she felt her thighs start to tremble. “Do it,” she said, closing her eyes, anticipation making her hold her breath. When the snap of leather rang and the flat side of the belt hit her butt, she cried out. Stars erupted behind her eyes. The pain making her stomach clench, and then his hand was between her legs, sending explosions of lust through her clit.
“Please,” she moaned, her release so close she needed all but two hard, fast touches. She inhaled as he spanked her for the second time, and before she could protest, a third time, the slap ringing through the air. As the pain subsided, the tingling mixed with her need for release, creating an unbearable level of tension. She could feel her clit pulsing, her panties wet. If he didn’t fuck her soon, she’d start begging.
“Hold still,” he said, and something cold slipped between her skin and panties. Her eyes flew open when she realized he used the cutter to cut through the cotton.
The fabric gave way smoothly against the sharp blade. Her panties fell away from her bottom and he tugged them down one leg. Breath feathered over her sore skin and a kiss landed first on one cheek then the other side of her butt.
“You look all flushed and swollen,” he said, tracing one finger through her wet pussy lips. He pressed her hips down until she rested flat on the mattress, her hands tied behind her back. “I’m gonna fuck that sweet pussy of yours now.”
The sound of a zipper being undone made her turn her head just in time to see him shrug out of his jeans. He wrapped his hand around his erection and gave himself a long stroke. “Untie my hands,” she said, her gaze glued on his hands and how he stroked himself.
“Don’t make me spank you again.” He raised a warning eyebrow, but his eyes were sparkling with laughter. “Not that you would mind.”
No, she wouldn’t mind. But she still preferred to feel him inside her now. The bed protested as he climbed onto it and slid up the length of her, keeping most of his weight off her back, rubbing his cock against her butt. She tried to spread her legs farther, but the cable around her ankles didn’t allow for elaborate movement.
“Impatient much?” A kiss landed against her neck.
“How about using that big cable cutter of yours to untie me now?” Flexing her stomach muscles, she wiggled around underneath him, coming to rest on her tied-back arms, which drew a small groan from her lips.
He was propped up on his hands, looking first into her eyes, and then his gaze slid to her mouth. Leaning low, he kissed her lightly, gently taking his time to explore and trace her lips. When the tip of his tongue slid into her mouth, she melted into liquid heat under him. There was nothing she loved more than kissing him, nothing. she moaned out her protest when he stopped and shushed her with his finger over her lips.
