Pierce tenderly brushed the damp strands of hair away from Heather’s face and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. God, she was so beautiful in her submission. Hell, she was beautiful all the time. His chest ached with the fierce feelings swelling inside him, clamoring to get out. And he wasn’t blind to her feelings. Her love for him shone in her dark eyes for him to easily see. Not just a teenager’s infatuation like he’d imagined when she was younger, but a grown woman’s love.
He had a hell of a lot of thinking to do and he just hoped to hell he made the right decision, because the last thing he wanted to do was fuck this up.
Conscious of her need for support, he hunkered down in front of her limp form and released her ankles with great care, checking the areas for any damage. Satisfied to see nothing unusual, just a bit of normal redness from her tugging against the restraints, he rubbed both areas not only to soothe the redness, but calm her as well. He worked his way up, giving her a light rubdown. He’d give her a more thorough one later and apply some ointment to her ass to help lessen the effects of the abuse he’d dealt it after a good soak in the oversized tub in the master bathroom. It would easily accommodate the two of them and they’d both benefit from a nice long soak.
He glanced up to see her watching him through drowsy eyes.
“Doing okay?”
A smile flirted with the corners of her soft, full-lipped mouth. “Mmmm. A lot satisfied. A little sore.”
“Only a little?” He raised an eyebrow as he worked his way up her legs with light rubbing strokes, stopping at the full roundness of her curvy hips and slipped his hands between her ass cheeks and the cushion he’d affixed to the cross. Squeezed. Not enough to hurt, just a gentle reminder.
She sucked a quick breath through gritted teeth and thrust her hips forward until her sweat-slick body was plastered to his. Right where he wanted her. He loved the feel of her soft, pliant body pressed against him.
“Maybe more than a little. I’d nearly forgotten how sore my butt is.” She pouted.
Understandable in light of her pursuit of pleasure. He’d worked her fairly hard. He almost regretted it since she was so new to this kind of sex, but he knew he’d do it again, just to see her like this. Sweetly complacent, looking at him through the slumberous eyes of a well-loved woman.
Had he not been so relaxed in the aftermath of his own volcanic climax, he’d have resisted his need to kiss her, knowing the frustrating female had the power to excite him with no more than a look. It wouldn’t be prudent to take her again so soon. He’d never been a selfish lover. Never let his lust overrule common sense, but Heather sorely tested those self-imposed restraints. So when he took her soft lips, he kept the kiss gentle, sweet. When even that tender contact caused his cock to stir, he pulled back and removed his hands from her ass.
It nearly killed him not to cave under her soft hum of protest. As a Dom, good judgment and the responsibility for her well-being fell squarely on his shoulders. He shook his head to clear it. Silently swore when he noted the yearning in her soft brown eyes. Christ! He’d lay big money on the odds she could tempt Satan to install water sprinklers in hell.
Thankfully, the amusing thought helped take some of the edge off his rising desire. Ignoring his steadily stiffening dick, he kept his touch as nonsexual as possible when he started at her waist and massaged his way up to her restrained wrists. He stretched to snag a soft blanket from the stack on the bottom shelf and wrapped it around her before he snaked an arm around her waist and released her from the wrist cuffs.
She wilted against him, a puppet whose strings had been sliced, her soft sigh flowing seductively over his neck. He repressed a shudder, scooped her into his arms and headed for the stairs.
“Pierce?” She snuggled deeper.
“Hmmm?”
“There’s something I wanted to tell you.”
“Shhh. Save it for tomorrow, brat. When we’re both more coherent and less exhausted. It’s been an exceptionally long night.”
“Mmmm. All right.” The words came out on a tired sigh.
* * * * *
An hour later, propped up on his elbow, his energy waning, Pierce stared down at Heather’s lush, naked form. She’d been half asleep through the entire bathing process. She’d drifted off facedown on the bed midway through his applying an ointment to the vibrant deep-pink globes of her ass. She’d still be sore for a couple of days, a lingering reminder of her mistakes, but not as bad as she would be without the cream’s soothing properties.
Her face was turned toward him and he took the advantage to assess her beauty one tiny feature at a time. She wasn’t perfect cover model material. Hell, who was? They airbrushed the hell out of those pictures. Nonetheless, she was perfect to him, right down to the scar under her stubborn chin. He traced its short length with a light fingertip. That was what the little brat got for playing roller derby on the frozen pond behind the family’s house and talking a reluctant friend into whipping her out in front of the imaginary pack.
Fuck! He hadn’t realized a chin could bleed so damn much. He and her brothers had gotten their fair share of cuts and bruises growing up, but seeing her with blood dripping down the front of her quilted white winter jacket had nearly buckled his knees.
His dad in another country on business, he’d spent the week with her brothers. They’d just gotten back from a hockey game at the Mentor Civic Center and were raiding the fridge when they’d heard a bloodcurdling scream. Closest to the back door, he’d been the first one out of the house. When they’d arrived, Heather had one bare little palm under her profusely bleeding chin, the other mittened hand jammed on her hip, demanding her hysterical friend stop her wailing before someone found out they’d gone ice skating without proper supervision. A hard-and-fast rule of her father’s.
Defiant little hellion.
He softly stroked the back of one finger over her soft cheek.
Funny how he remembered just about everything that involved her, even from years ago, but sometimes couldn’t even remember more recent facts about the women he’d spent time with.
Which brought him back full circle to his feelings and the sudden epiphany that maybe he wasn’t commitment phobic after all. And maybe, just maybe, Heather was the reason he’d never found a woman he could love. Because maybe she’d been right under his nose for years.
Were he not worried about waking her up and thinking him a lunatic, he would have had himself a good gut-splitting laugh.
He settled down next to her and carefully positioned her inert warm body into the crook of his own. She didn’t even stir. Not that he expected her to. He’d worn her out. Smiling, he slipped his arm over her waist, cupped her breast in his hand and kissed her shoulder, taking in the scent of sweet familiar woman and a hint of the honeysuckle soap he’d used to bath her. With a smile on his face and the intention of sitting down with her tomorrow for a serious talk, he drifted off.
* * * * *
He was pulled from deep sleep and it took Pierce several moments to clear the fog from his mind and realize the notes from the old Hank Williams song with the lyrics Hey, good lookin’ wasn’t a figment of some distorted dream. Rubbing eyes that felt as if sandpaper had been scraped over them with one hand, he reached for his cell on the nightstand with the other. Through blurred vision, he made note of the caller and the time. Whatever it was that Doris, the longtime family cook, was calling about at three o’clock in the morning, the news couldn’t possibly be good.
Chapter Fifteen
Heather walked up behind the lone broad-shouldered figure standing stoically at the open gravesite and slipped her hand into his. Pierce’s only acknowledgement of her presence was a light constriction of his hand before it went lax again. His halfhearted response crushed her, but she tried not to show it. He had enough on his plate.
He’d been unusually withdrawn when he’d awakened her after the call informing him of his father’s fatal heart attack. They’d packed in relative silence and left in the
predawn light, the drive home seemed to take forever due to his refusal to be pulled into any sort of conversation, giving a minimum-word response to anything she’d asked.
Since he refused to share what he was feeling, she’d had no idea how to help him. And it frustrated the hell out of her.
Never close with his father, the news of his death probably wouldn’t have hit Pierce that hard if not for the fact the old man had died in the bed of his business partner and supposed longtime friend while fucking the man’s wife. When Pierce had found out the details, Heather had expected him to explode, seeing as his father had done nothing but continually malign the memory of his mother with her infidelity. Supposed infidelity in Heather’s mind.
An accusation Heather had some serious doubts about, but no solid proof to share with Pierce.
She’d never liked Pierce’s dad. She couldn’t quite explain why when she was younger, other than a deep-rooted gut feeling. But as she matured, she’d pegged him for a malicious manipulator who’d do anything to get his way.
“Time to go.”
Heather looked up to find Pierce looking down on her. “I’ll have to ride with you, since my dad and brothers already left for your house.” Of course, she’d told them to go ahead without her to the after-funeral gathering and now she was almost sorry she had. Maybe she should give Pierce the space he seemed to want. But God help her, she couldn’t understand why he was treating her like a distant friend after all they’d shared.
“That’s fine,” he said dully, taking a firmer grip on her hand to lead her to the family’s personal limo without once looking back at the gravesite.
Thinking back, Heather figured it was probably a good thing she hadn’t had the chance to tell him she loved him the night before they’d left the country house. How much more would his distancing himself from her have hurt if she had? More than she cared to think about.
* * * * *
Two days later, Heather woke to an incessant buzzing.
It took her a minute to clear her sleep-fogged brain and realize it was the front door intercom buzzer.
She looked at the bedside clock. “Two a.m.! Ya gotta be kiddin’.”
With an audible sigh, she rolled out of bed and hurried down to hit the speaker button.
“Heather. It’s Pierce. Open the door,” he said before she could even ask who it was.
She buzzed him in. He must’ve flew up the steps because he was in front of her in seconds, looking like someone who’d been in an interrogation room for days on end. Rumpled, dazed and desperate with an adrenaline rush of freedom that needed an outlet. Apparently she was that outlet. Seconds later, her silk nightgown was ripped from her body and she was plastered, naked, against the entryway wall.
“I need you.” The statement was muffled in the crook of her neck. Long-awaited confession or one-night necessity? He gave her no time to discern which as he fumbled between them to unzip his jeans, grab hold of his cock, shoved upward and filled her.
“Shit!” The back of her head and ass rode up and down the wall as he continued to stuff her with fierce strokes. He hadn’t even checked to see if she was ready. Thankfully, it seemed she was always in a state of readiness when he was near. Not that she cared he was in such a rush since she was desperate for him too. It was just that it was so unlike his normal attentiveness to her body’s needs whenever he’d taken her before.
“I love the way your pussy welcomes me, clutches my cock.” His hips surged again. Pistoning in and out. His powerful thrusts harder than she ever remembered. Reckless, dangerous. Like a man deprived of the one thing he wanted and finally got it.
“Pierce?”
He groaned. Looked into her eyes. “Don’t ask me to slow down. Or stop. I can’t.” His breathing was heavy against her heaving breasts, his rhythm never faltered.
“No… Not that.” She shook her head. “I can’t hold—” She swallowed, trying to moisten her mouth to get the words past dry lips. “I’m going…going to come.”
“Fuck, yeah. Come for me, baby. Coat my dick with your hot cream.”
His lips slammed down on hers, muffling her scream of release. By the time he pulled his head back and she managed a breath, all she could say was, “Oh. My. God.”
A carnal smile on his lips, he pulled out of her, scooped her up into his arms and carried her up the winding staircase to her room. Without ceremony, he tossed her onto the bed.
Air burst from her lungs. She levered up onto her forearms to watch as he hastily stripped off his clothes. When he shucked his jeans and boxers, her gaze became glued to his massive raging hard-on. “You didn’t come. Why don’t you bring that luscious bad boy over here and let me take care of him.” She licked her lips.
“Not yet.”
He fell on top of her and smashed his mouth to hers in a tongue-mating interlude that left her woozy from lack of air.
“Spread ‘em.” The request was a harsh rush of warm breath that skimmed over her chest, making her nipples peak as he kneed her thighs apart. He reached down to stroke his cock a couple of times, and looking straight into her eyes, he sank his dick into her with little finesse, not stopping until she swore he was pressing against the entrance to her womb. His exits were slow, his entries powerful, forcing whimpers and soft screams from her when he picked up the pace. But he always stopped whenever she was a stroke away from getting off. How the hell he knew that, she wasn’t sure, because God knew she tried to outsmart him on several occasions and failed.
“Damn you.” Her head swiveling back and forth on the plush bedspread neither of them had bothered to toss off, she pushed her hips up off the bed. He immediately balanced on one palm and slapped the other onto her hip to still her.
“Not when you’re ready.” He shook his head. “When I’m ready.”
She tossed several profanities his way that wouldn’t reserve her a place in line at the pearly gates. Not that it did any good. The man was nothing if not stubborn.
He gave her two more orgasms before he flipped her over.
Apparently little about his taking her tonight was going to be gentle.
He nudged the velvety tip of his cock in the crease of her ass. “This…” He stroked up and down, slow and light, twice. “This is where I intend to come tonight, sweetheart. Your tight, sweet ass. You ready for that?”
“Yes. Very.” She looked over her shoulder.
“Okay, then. Let’s get you prepped. You get the lube while I grab a condom from my jeans,” he said, slipping off the bed.
When he left, she took the opportunity to grab the top of the bedspread, shove it down, levered up on her toes and kicked it off the rest of the way with her feet. Rolling to her side, she got the K-Y Jelly from the nightstand drawer. She was barely back in position when she felt a dip where Pierce knelt on the bed and grasped her hips.
“You trying to kill me, woman? God, you’re so exposed, your pussy glistening. If it wasn’t your ass I was so desperate for at the moment, I’d stand and fuck your beautiful cunt right now.”
“Ow.” A soft protest for the unexpected nip of his teeth on her right ass cheek.
He grabbed the lube from where she’d placed it by her feet and laid a solid line between her ass cheeks.
Her sphincter contracted. “Shit! That was cold.” A shiver danced up her spine.
“Not to worry, sweet stuff. It will be smoking hot in a moment.” She could hear the light tear of the condom wrapper. “Reach between your legs and give me your hand.”
When she did, he wrapped his hand around hers and together they slid the condom down the length of his steely cock.
“See how hard I am for you, babe? I’m going to make this last as long as I can, but I have a feeling this first time, in your ass, will be quicker than I’d like. But no matter how fast, I’ll make sure we both enjoy the hell out it.”
He gripped her hand tight and guided the head of his cock up and down the crack of her ass several times in slow, sliding moves.
&nb
sp; When he released her hand, she re-braced it on the bed. She was a little anxious, a lot excited to finally be giving that part of her body to him, wondering how his huge cock would feel in her tight hole.
“Relax. The way you did when I put in the butt plug. I’ll take it slow. I’m only a little bigger.”
A little bigger? He either had no concept of size, or was lying through his teeth to no doubt set her at ease. Probably the latter. Heather took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and cajoled every muscle in her body to relax.
“That’s my girl.” He rimmed her anus with the slick supple tip of his dick, widening the circle in small amounts as he spread her ass cheeks apart with his hands. Lightly bumped the tight ring of muscle, a little deeper each time until the tip breached her opening.
She took another deep breath and canted her hips back.
His hands palming her ass, it didn’t take much pressure to stop the motion. “Let me guide you through this first time. I may have exaggerated a bit when I said I wasn’t much bigger than the butt plug.”
“Ya think?” she said with a hint of humor.
He chuckled and ran a tiny line of kisses down the middle of her back, igniting a flood of goose bumps. “Okay, so I fibbed a little. But I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You would never hurt me,” she said with conviction. At least not physically, she added mentally when there was an obvious pause.
“Never intentionally.”
Then all conversation ceased when Pierce began priming her, little by little, to take all of him. He fed her bits at a time. The stretch and strain on her sphincter a pleasurable pain she never anticipated. The butt plug was nice. This was ohhh sooo much better.
He worked her in easy precise strokes until he filled her completely, the greased glide of the condom made the entire process a slick sensual experience.
Once she was accustomed to his length and width, even as she was learning to love this particular type of sex-play, she couldn’t help but wonder if something weren’t missing. Mind reader that Pierce was, he let her know exactly what when he slid two fingers easily into her soaked pussy.
Restrained and Willing Page 24
