“God, you have beautiful tits.” He cupped one generous mound in his hand. Gently squeezed. “Bigger than a handful. And those dark, hard, begging nipples.” He captured one firmly between his lips…sucked hard…released it with a soft pop. “So damn responsive.” He nipped her chin.
She mewled. A soft purring sound from the back of her throat that made a beeline straight to his cock. Not that he minded. He relished every throbbing surge of blood that filled him to near bursting. By the time he claimed her…and God help her, that’s exactly what he’d do…he’d be so hard, so thick with need, there’d only be enough room in her overactive mind for thoughts of him.
He eased the pressure on her scalp to look deeply into her half-lidded eyes. “Like having your nipples played with?”
She captured her bottom lip between her adorable, slightly uneven front teeth and nodded.
He quirked a brow. Waited.
“Yes, I like it.”
“Other than in those fascinating little fantasies you write in your diary ever had them clamped?”
“Once.”
“By who?” He realized how possessive the question sounded and his shoulders bunched. Shit. Why the hell did thoughts of any man in her past wring his balls? This was supposed to be a sexual claiming. A temporary arrangement between two consenting adults. He forced himself to relax.
“No one.”
Curiosity aroused, the last of his tension bled away.
“I tried it myself. After…”
He just knew this was going to be good. “After what?” With his free hand, he lightly pinched the puckered nub until she sucked in a shallow breath.
“After watching some,” her top teeth snagged her bottom lip for a split second, “videos I accidentally came across.”
He barely held back a wall-shaking laugh. “Not only a little snoop…a thief too. Me and your brothers searched for weeks for those damn bondage videos before we gave up and bought more.”
A soft snort stirred the air between them. “You knuckleheads should’ve hid them better,” she stated without a hint of shame or remorse.
“Apparently.” He grinned and tweaked her nipple a little harder, adding a small twist at the end.
A soft whimper squeezed past her cherry-red lips.
The sound made his cock harder by several degrees. At this rate, he’d be busting his zipper. “You still have the clamps?”
“My roommate borrowed them for a fun night with her boyfriend. Never gave them back.”
“You took them to college?” He allowed his surprise to show rather than analyze the relief he felt over the fact she hadn’t taken them to experiment with some inexperienced, beer-guzzling frat boy.
“Hell, yes. And a good thing too. Or did you forget about the room remodel Dad and you three surprised me with over my first Christmas holiday? I can imagine the hell that would’ve broken loose had they been found.”
He chuckled. “Point taken.”
As they talked, he alternately skated and plucked his thumb over the hard elongated tip of her breast. They’d look so damn beautiful clamped. And who knew, if things worked out well between them, maybe he could even convince her to get her nipples pierced. His tongue went hard in anticipation of licking the little engorged buds and toying with some little gold loops. “We’ll get you a new set of clamps.”
“I’d like that.” The last syllable was lost on a breathy pant when he gave her nipple a semi-hard tug.
“I’m sure you will. But not as much as I’ll like seeing the titillating effects they have on you. Testing your tolerance for the light, pleasurable pain they’ll give.”
The slightest pull on her hair had her arching back farther.
He deserted her breast to splay his other hand over the small rise of her stomach. He loved the silky-smooth texture, the perceptible tremble of the soft pliable surface beneath his touch. She was exquisitely responsive. He could barely wait to experience the extent of her responsiveness.
A slight shift of his hand and he encompassed her outer thigh, slowly drew his hand down until he cupped the back of her knee. “I could spend half the night running my hands over you.”
“I love having your hands on me,” she whispered. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamed of you touching me. Making love to me.”
He breathed deeply and took his time lifting his gaze, looking his fill as he moved up her body until he connected with her chocolate bedroom eyes. “Is that so?” He leaned down and claimed her lips, basking in their sensuous feel for long, tender moments. When he broke away, her breathing was labored, her eyes dreamy.
“Hang on, brat. Because starting tonight, all your dreams, all those erotic fantasies you wrote in your diary, are about to become reality.” He tenderly brushed a few wayward strands of hair from the side of her face, tucked them behind her ear. “Lean back. Spread those long, gorgeous legs for me.”
After Pierce released the grip on her hair, positioned his arm to best support her neck and shoulders and shifted his legs wider to allow her body a more stable platform, Heather eased back into the cradling support of his thick arm.
For such a large man, Pierce was beauty in motion. His every execution a fluid, artful economy of grace. How could any woman not be relaxed in his company?
Stomach fluttering, Heather dropped one arm to curl her hand around one of his muscular calves, burrowed the other arm beneath his and hooked her thumb through one of the back belt loops on his pants.
She gazed up at him with a sly smile. “You did tell me to hang on. I’m taking you at your word.”
“Smart woman.” Playful amusement flared briefly in his compelling green eyes, quickly morphing to emerald fire when she raised her right leg with slow deliberation to stretch it out along the edge of the bed and spread her left leg out as far as it would comfortably reach on the floor.
As she’d hoped, Pierce took immediate advantage of her exposed position, bending to torment a nipple lightly between his teeth at the same time the tip of his finger made contact with her aching pussy. Not the deep plunge of fulfillment her feverish mind anticipated, but an experimental feathering around the perimeter of her wet opening. Any other time, with any other man, she’d be happy to luxuriate in the courteous languorous foreplay. Not tonight. Not after all the frustrating, unfulfilled fantasies about this man.
Unfortunately, Pierce seemed determined to take things slow. She didn’t need the skills of her accelerated master’s degree to deduce there’d be no quick, mutually gratifying fuck for them tonight.
Once Pierce made up his mind, no amount of feminine pleading would change it. Verified by the video of him she’d pilfered. The man possessed a rock-solid will she doubted a pneumatic jackhammer could break through.
With an inward sigh, she resigned herself to bask in his single-minded sensual attention. At least until he drove her mad with frustration. Then she’d have to figure out a way to get him to stuff her so full of his cock, there’d be no thought other than how damn great it felt.
The tip of his finger breached the barrier of her wet folds.
“More.” The word came out breathless, needy. An alien sound. At the moment, she didn’t give a good damn. Over the years, she’d turned her need for Pierce into a mental art form that would baffle Einstein himself. Pierce was the one chink in her tough emotional armor that she revered rather than reviled. Unconditional love had a way of doing that to a person.
“Not enough?” Humor laced his question. “Let’s see if you’re saying the same thing later. After I’ve made you come five or six times.”
Her eyes widened, her gaze zeroing in on his. “Five or si—” She swallowed her astonishment. Three was her standing one-time record. And she’d been damn proud of that. Even if there had been some instructional guidance on her part. After the first climax, it took forever for the second. In her book, three orgasms had been right up there with the parting of the Red Sea.
Instead of the expected we’ll see, Mr.
Braggart from her libido, it rubbed its greedy little hands together in eagerness.
His finger slid in a little deeper.
“If you’re a good girl and let me have my wicked way with you, I might toss in an extra orgasm for good measure.”
Oh, hell yes!
She wrapped up her escalating impatience in duct tape and tossed it into the proverbial trunk. “My body’s all yours.” Along with the rest of me, Mr. Commitment Phobic. All it would take would be a little crook of your talented finger. In this case, pun definitely intended.
As if he had a direct line to her internal conversation, he probed deeper, curled his finger, barely grazing the inside of her sensitive opening. She gritted her teeth. Not…quite…where she needed it, but making progress. Slight as it was.
Determined to cash in on all his promises, she drew a fortifying breath. She wasn’t taking any chances with his earlier declaration of bedroom equality. Highly unlikely he could turn off his dominance as if it were a light switch. Not that he’d lied or wouldn’t give it his best shot. But she knew him well. Knew herself even better. With him, only him, she was more than willing to relinquish all control. Put her cherished, long-awaited fantasies in his large, slightly rough, capable hands.
The slight withdrawal of his finger snapped her out of her thoughts as she locked her gaze with his.
“Along with giving me your body, your full attention would be a nice bonus.” It was a mild rebuke, during which he thankfully didn’t remove his finger altogether, lightly gliding it up, down, up, down through her slick folds.
“Sorry.”
“Not as sorry as you would be if I were in full discipline mode.” A slightly sinister smile played at the corners of his generous mouth. “Lucky for you, I’m not. This is about feeling, not thinking. Relax. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
How sweet. He thought she was nervous. She was so going to grab onto that lifeline, as her earlier thoughts were something she wasn’t anxious to share. As for disappointed, a woman would have to be certifiable to even consider the word in regard to the hunk whose muscle-laden thighs she was sprawled across. “Okay.” A generic answer he could interpret any way he wanted to.
She took a deep breath and allowed her body to relax further into the muscular cradle of his arm.
His approving smile was accompanied by a deeper penetration of his finger. A good second knuckle’s worth.
A slight curl and a couple of soft fingertip scratches and…bingo! Her G-spot.
Left toes digging into the plush carpet, right toes curling for purchase into the mattress, her hips levitated to meet his sure, steady strokes.
“Now that I’ve got your full attention…” His strokes became firmer, a tad faster.
She whimpered. Confident of the strong-armed support across her upper back, she raised her butt off his thighs, spread hers wider in encouragement and executed a reclining, toe-balancing act a prima ballerina would envy.
She screwed her eyes shut tight.
“Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Just like,” a strangled whimper pried its way past her constricted throat muscles, “THAT!”
Every muscle in her body tensed a second before she was dynamited free of their tenacious hold and vaulted into a colorful prismatic realm of ecstasy.
“That was…” She took several shallow breaths. “That was—”
“One down. Five more to go.” Between one breathless pant and the next, her butt was cliff-hanging off the edge of the bed, Pierce kneeling on the floor between her quaking thighs, held open wide by the massive expanse of his shoulders. The shift was so fast, his finger remained buried inside her.
“Wait.” Two more pants barged past her lips. “You can’t mean to—”
He plunged his finger deep and latched on to her clit for a hard suck.
“Oh God! You do.”
He nibbled a bit, deserting her throbbing clit to attend to her neglected labia. Up down, around, slow lapping strokes through the outer creases. Used the tip of his tongue to lick around her stretched opening to ease the way for the slow, even strokes of his pumping finger. In. Out. In. Out. The occasional twist. A slow, tortuous rhythm that had her desperation swinging from wanting more to wanting a small respite from the overload of sensation.
She latched on to the bedspread, crumpling the fabric in her grasp.
Another lick. Another suck. Another long, slow, slow glide of his finger before he withdrew altogether.
Thank God! A much-needed breather.
A short-lived lull, as a heartbeat later, two fingers filled her and Pierce started the sugar-coated torture all over again.
She wriggled. Moaned. “Too much. Please, I need a minute.”
Her appeal went unheeded. Overridden by his deep-throated murmur. “Mmmm. You taste so damn good. So fucking, unbelievably sweet.” He flipped his hand, palm up, riding in and out of her tender flesh, bringing his thumb into play to tease her clit in tandem with his clever tongue.
Too sensitive. Too much. Too soon.
A litany that never passed her lips as he relentlessly attended to his stimulating task.
She gulped a breath to clear her airway for the moan clawing its way up from the pit of her clenched stomach. Every muscle, every tendon, bunching in preparation for the cataclysmic event soon to come.
She thrashed her head back and forth. A useless gesture since he couldn’t see it. How could he with his gorgeous black-haired head buried between her legs as he drove her to mind-numbing madness.
She lifted her head, swallowed and licked her lips. “I can’t.”
He raised his head to catch her gaze. “Yes, brat. You can.” His warm breath streamed across her overstimulated clit as his diligent fingers kept her stoked and on edge.
It was a gently spoken, sensual command. A command, nonetheless. One she was determined to obey. She’d never been a quitter. Graduating summa cum laude from Yale proved that. There hadn’t been a dry eye among the four macho men who’d attended the ceremony. Pierce had been proud of her then. She’d make him proud again. Surely this wouldn’t be the last time she’d have to prove her mettle.
She nodded.
A gleam of approval flashed in his smoky green eyes before he lowered his mouth.
She took a much-needed breath to bolster her determination and let her head fall back to the mattress. Desperate to touch him, she sank her fingers into the thick mass of soft midnight atop his head.
He resumed his mission with a vengeance.
She thrashed. Moaned. Clutched his hair, at times so hard she marveled it didn’t separate from his scalp.
Not that he seemed to notice or care, since he never relented.
At one point, he replaced his fingers with his thumb. Diligently working it between her drenched folds. Switched back.
He increased the suction on her clit, the deep, forceful penetration of his fingers, making her entire body hum.
On the verge of screaming for mercy, she sucked the sound back, blindsided by the sudden unexpected invasion of her backside by his thumb. Slick from her overflowing pussy juices, the invasion happened so fast, she didn’t have time to tense.
When her peak hit, it hit hard and without warning. Instigated by an extra-hard suck on her clit, the deep double penetration, the slight erotic pain propelled her to a new plane of sexual gratification.
“Pierce!”
The uninhibited sound that ripped past her straining neck tendons and ricocheted around the painted high concrete walls and bounced off the ceiling was most likely heard halfway down the warehouse district.
Breaths heavy, sporadic, it took a good deal of time to become aware of her surroundings, the feel of being encased in a tender embrace, the Cheshire cat grin of the man looking down on her. The fact that he was naked.
Naked!
Crap!
How long had she been oblivious? Frolicking in her post-climax wonderland.
Apparently long enough for him to strip, scoot her up so her head was now on th
e pillow and then settle his buff body next to her.
Damn, she’d missed watching him strip. One of the top things on her to-do list for more years than she liked to remember.
She expelled a small sigh. Hopefully, if things went the way she wanted, tonight wouldn’t be the last time they’d be intimate. Resolved to make him realize things could be great between them, she buried her face against the solid warmth of his chest and savored a lungful of his cherished masculine scent. A little sweat, a little Irish Spring, a whole lot hormone-elevating macho man. Not to mention totally self-satisfied, judging from the soft chuckle that revved through his chest wall into her ear.
“Okay, I admit, that was fantastic. Would you like me to pin a medal on your chest?” she teased once she could form the words in a coherent string. She smoothed a hand over one of his glorious pecs and kissed the deep groove that divided it from its mate.
He kissed the top of her head. “Nah. Not yet. Maybe in the morning. After all the orgasms I promised.”
She craned her head up to meet his eyes, thinking she’d see them twinkle with humor. She found nothing in the deep-green orbs but seriousness. “You weren’t kidding?”
“You wound me, woman. Have I ever reneged on a promise to you?”
“No. But I thought…”
“Enough with the thinking. Send your brain on a short vacation.” He chucked her chin. “Let someone else do the thinking. You might find you like it.”
With this man, she just might. Besides, she’d be a fool to argue. What woman in her right mind would object to a multi-orgasm promise? She settled against him. Content to wallow in his wonderful body heat and give in to the fulfilling pull of the two consecutive orgasms he’d given her.
“Let me know when you’re ready to work on number three.”
Nice of him to give her a say. She was pretty sure that wasn’t the norm for him. “Ummm. Give me a few minutes,” she murmured, wanting to bask in the barely there flutters of her fading climax. She closed her eyes to better appreciate the tiny sensations.
Pierce smiled down at his dozing bedmate, not minding in the least she was taking a catnap. She’d need to rejuvenate. It was going to be a very long, very strenuous, and very, very pleasure-filled night. He intended to take his time discovering every sensitive centimeter of her curvaceous body. What turned her on. What, if anything, turned her off. Thankfully, slipping his thumb into her backside hadn’t appeared to be one of her taboos. Although it did appear to be a new experience. He was more than pleased, since breaking in a virgin ass was a particular favorite of his. And she had such a nice tight shapely ass.
Restrained and Willing Page 6
