“Declan,” she panted, writhing beneath me.
I sat up, then lightly grazed her aching nipple with the metal of the syrup pitcher. Cool against her hot flesh, she shivered, so much more sensitive without sight.
I dribbled a few drops at the top of her breasts, carefully avoiding her nipples. As I licked and sucked, she started to beg.
“Declan, please,” she panted, trying to twist closer toward me, close any distance between us.
“Yes, that’s right,” I encouraged her, running a finger along her soft cheek underneath the blindfold, stopping at her full lips. “I like it when you beg.” She flicked her tongue out at my finger, then drew it in and sucked. I groaned. Rock hard, the tip of my cock strained at the low-riding waistband of my sweatpants.
Enough teasing. I needed more. Down between her legs, I spread her thighs. Face at her pussy, I blew on her wetness. She writhed in the sensation. I brought the syrup can to her slick folds, sliding the cool metal along her skin. Then I poured a dab of syrup on her.
“Declan!” she cried out.
I brought my tongue to her slit, slowly licking up the mingled syrup, maple and Kara, so sweet. She arched her back and moaned, pressing her pussy into my tongue.
“Do you like that, Kara?”
“Ah, Declan! I need—” She broke off into a moan of pleasure as I slid more syrup on her, more tongue, this time firmer, stronger, more insistent, lapping up more of her juice. Grasping her ass in both hands, I settled my face in and began to tongue fuck her in a demanding rhythm. She bucked against me, her hands still tied above her head, writhing and screaming with need.
“Yes! Oh God, Declan!”
I worked her, licking and sucking and flicking her clit over and over with my tongue. Just as she was about to come, I stopped. As much as I wanted to drink in her juices all day and all night, I wanted to see the look in her eyes. I wanted to see her glazed over with lust and pleading with me when she begged for me to finish her.
I took off her blindfold. “Tell me what you want, Kara.”
“I want you, Declan,” she pleaded, panting, her eyes wild with need.
“What is it you want, exactly?”
“I want…” She seemed to struggle with her words, fighting against herself, embarrassed. I loved that in her, the shyness. I’d have a lot of fun stripping it away.
“Tell me,” I coaxed her, tracing hot kisses down her neck, licking my way down the valley between her breasts.
“I want to take you in my mouth,” she cried out. “I want to suck you and swallow all of your come.”
I groaned. That was not what I had expected her to say. Overcome by what she’d just described, I suddenly couldn’t imagine anything I wanted more.
“Please,” she begged, softly, urgently.
I couldn’t resist. I withdrew the blindfold and unfastened her restraints. Heavy lidded, I watched as she drew up on her knees and came to my side. Lips parted, she looked down at the huge bulge in my sweatpants, the crown barely visible at the waistband. She looked hungry. I couldn’t believe she was about to take me into her mouth like I’d fantasied about countless times, lick and suck me and drink down my come.
She slid my sweatpants down. My cock sprang free and she reached a hand to it, wrapping it hesitantly around the hard length as I groaned.
“I can’t believe you fit in me,” she said, awed. “You’re so huge.” A drop of pre-come pearled on the tip as I held my whole body rigid, waiting. But then she paused, shy.
She whispered, “I don’t have a lot of experience doing this so I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it. Can you teach me how to do it right for you?”
I closed my eyes. Fuck. She didn’t mean to, but that turned me on even more. Teach her to do it right for me? I might come just thinking about it.
“You don’t have a lot of experience?” I felt drunk, repeating her words.
She shook her head, eyes averted, looking embarrassed. “I haven’t really done…”
“You’ve never gone down on a guy before?” How was this luscious creature so inexperienced all these years later? Sure, I liked the fantasy of her pining away for me, celibate as a nun, but reality told me six years was a long time. I hadn’t exactly left her with a lot of hope back in the day, and she was so tempting, so perfect.
Blood pounded in my ears. She still hadn’t responded. I leaned in closer to her on the bed.
“Kara?”
“I’ve dated,” she mumbled.
Damn it, she was being evasive. I felt a surge of jealous rage. Whoever they were, these men, I would find them and rip their heads off.
“Just dated, Declan,” she continued, apparently able to read my thoughts. “I’ve never done this before.”
I crushed her against me, searing her with my kiss. Mine. She belonged to me. I kissed her with a fire I hadn’t even known I had, a branding kiss, claiming her as my own.
“Kara,” I breathed into her, leaning her down against the pillows, parting her legs. I knew nothing other than that I needed to be inside of her, now. No time for foreplay, no teasing and stoking the fires. I was a volcano about to explode.
I parted her legs and plunged my cock deep up inside of her with one long, strong thrust.
“Yes,” she screamed. The hot, wet walls of her pussy took me in tight as a fist. I’d never felt anything so good. Like an animal, I thrust into her again and again, driven on by my savage lust and her cries of desire.
“Mine,” I growled with each hard, driving thrust.
“Yes,” she responded, meeting me with her hips. I brought my hands to her knees and forced them up, then pushed them down by her sides, opening her even more. It drove her wild, frenzied. She thrashed underneath me, taking me in all the way.
“Mine,” I claimed her.
“More,” she called out, writhing, sweaty and desperate. My balls slapping against her, the headboard pounded against the wall.
I buried myself in her, driving into her, relentless, fucking her senseless. The pressure built in me, burning, heating up, until I knew I was about to explode.
“Are you ready to take my come?” I growled. The question sent her over the edge. She began bucking helplessly underneath me, her hips raised off the sheets as wave after wave of orgasm engulfed her. Her tight pussy squeezed my cock and I lost myself, mindlessly pumping thick come into her as I roared out her name.
Panting, we lay in the twisted, sweaty sheets, intertwined. I never wanted to get up again. I wanted to lie there forever with her naked in the bed.
So I got up. I headed over to the bathroom.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I called over my shoulder. I didn’t look back.
Under pounding cold water, I pulled myself together. I’d lost control in there. I’d meant to play with her, tease her, tempt her. Start a slow burn. And I’d lost control. That didn’t happen with me. That wouldn’t happen again.
After the shower, I changed into some dark jeans and a crisp, fitted button-down shirt. I had a couple of meetings that day, some calls with potential investors, a pitch over drinks about a new opportunity. Sundays didn’t slow down much for the self-made businessman. That’s where I needed to focus.
I headed straight into my office. Kara took a shower, too, then came in to see me. Enveloped in a large towel, she stood there looking virginal and pink. I cleared my throat, my dick stirring once again at the sight of her.
Embarrassed, she murmured, “I don’t have any clothes.”
That’s right, I’d ripped hers off last night in the elevator. I liked her naked. I saw no reason for her to wear anything at all. But it was true, if she were going to come with me to New York she’d better have something to wear.
“You’re going to need some. Tomorrow we’re flying to New York. Why don’t you go shopping? I’ve got some work to do.”
“Shopping?”
“You need some clothes. That towel’s not going to cut it. Though I do like seeing you in it.” She blushe
d and looked down at herself. “Why don’t you head back to those boutiques you saw the other day and buy yourself some things?”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t feel right going and spending your money like that.”
Huh. That was a new one. I didn’t think I’d ever heard anyone say that before. “You do need some clothes, Kara.” I tried logic. She still looked reluctant. “Or, no, that’s right, you have that t-shirt from last night. The one I ripped in half. We could put a button in the middle and you could wear that around. I could pop it open whenever I wanted.”
“Not going to happen.” At least now she was smiling.
“I need your help,” I improvised. Why hadn’t I started with that? Kara could never resist doing a favor.
“Really?” Kara brightened visibly at the prospect.
“I need you to buy a baby gift. My property manager in Bozeman and his wife just had a baby.” I’d gotten a text early that morning. The baby had come two weeks early, but was a perfectly healthy seven-pound boy.
“A baby?” She clapped her hands together with a big smile. I wanted to tell her a few more things that would take her hands away from that towel. It had slipped an inch.
“Could you pick something out?” I asked. “I’m terrible at that kind of thing.” That was true, too, but of course my PA Angie typically took care of all those sorts of needs. I had to admit, though, I liked the idea of Kara picking something out for Brett and his wife. She’d have fun doing it, too.
“Sure, I could do that. Anything else?”
So eager. I had to wash my mind out with soap. “Yes, while you’re out shopping, buy yourself some clothes to wear in New York. And Kara,” I said, serious. “Make sure you spend lots of money.”
Nutty piece of work that she was, her response was a small, defiant pout.
Firm and in control now, I pointed my finger at her. “When you come home, you’re going to model it all for me. I want to like what I see. Don’t disappoint me, or I’ll have to discipline you.”
“What?” She looked at me wide eyed, suddenly nervous.
“You heard me. Now get going.” I turned back to the computer. She walked out of my office.
I wanted her nervous, anticipating tonight. I liked the idea of her going shopping for me, choosing things I might like that she could model for me. Clothes that I could take off. Because as much as I loved that defiant spark in her, tonight I’d enjoy teaching her some discipline.
CHAPTER 4
Kara
Then
“Princess?” At the sound of my father’s voice, I paused at the front door. I was heading down to bring Bill his mail. He didn’t get much, so it wasn’t any trouble to sort it and bring it down to him on Sunday mornings. I usually gave him some of the extra fliers and sales circulars Daddy and I would have thrown out, too. I knew he enjoyed looking through it all.
“What is it, Daddy?”
“While you’re down there, would you check in on Declan? He’s been fighting a nasty flu. The man won’t stop working even with a raging fever.”
I didn’t need to be asked twice. I about flew down to Bill’s, leaving his mail on his porch after I rang the doorbell instead of staying to chat a few minutes like usual. Rushing over to Declan’s cabin, I wondered how long he’d been sick. I’d been avoiding him like it was my job for the last two weeks. Ever since that night.
The night he’d caught me. I’d snuck down to his cabin and pleasured myself on his bed. He’d watched me do it, seen me come on my fingers as I’d called out his name.
I still couldn’t believe that had happened. No wonder I’d been hiding the past two weeks. I was around a lot more—Bruce was already off at college for pre-season football so I was officially single—but mostly I stayed in the house. I was hiding and I knew it was ridiculous on my own family’s ranch, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what Declan had seen. And what I’d done on his bed.
I’d been restless that night, as I had been so often with Declan on the ranch. I couldn’t sleep. In the heat, the sticky sheets, the air that wouldn’t move, I’d lain on my bed throbbing and aching. Then, in the middle of the night, I’d been drawn down to Declan’s cabin like a sleepwalker, in a trance, pulled irresistibly down to where he lived.
I had a key to his cabin. We had keys to every building on the ranch. I knew it was wrong. I knew I shouldn’t be going in. But he was out of town, or supposed to be. I told myself he’d never know.
I’d never felt more mortified, never been more panicked then when I’d heard Declan’s voice in the doorway. After I’d come on my own fingers in his bed while calling out his name. He’d caught me. There was no going back. Now, without any shadow of a doubt, he knew exactly how I felt about him, how much I longed for him. And he knew what a nasty girl I really was.
Since then, I’d literally hid in the house. I’d managed to avoid him almost completely. Except one time for about the longest 30 seconds on record in human history. I’d made the mistake of heading down to the barn and then he’d walked in, no shirt, sweaty with his jeans low on his hips. He’d stood there like a caveman, a big piece of lumber tossed over his broad shoulder. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me. All of the air left the barn. I stood, trembling, unable to look away from his heated gaze, scared and nervous and desperate to touch him. Then Bill had come in, thank God. I’d fled as fast as I could.
Now, again at the door of Declan’s cabin, I paused a moment so I could catch my breath. It wouldn’t do to show up panting and sweaty, especially if he were feeling just fine. But Daddy said he had a nasty flu. What if he wasn’t OK?
I knocked. No answer. Knocked again, then tried the doorknob. It was open, so I let myself in.
The room was dark and dank, shades drawn and no lights on. It felt like no one had let air into it in a couple of days. “Declan?” I called out. No answer.
Movement on the bed about made my heart stop. Declan lay there, eyes closed.
“Declan? Are you OK?” I rushed to his side. He didn’t open his eyes. Even in the dark room, I could see he looked sweaty and flushed. I brought my hand to his forehead. He was burning up.
Swearing under my breath, I headed to his bathroom. Did a pig-headed man like Declan have any medicine or did he just plan on walking it off all the time? Opening his medicine cabinet, I found a First Aid kit and then, on the bottom shelf, an old bottle of Aspirin. That would have to do. Shaking, I shook a few pills into my palm. In his kitchenette, I found a glass in a pile of dirty dishes in his sink. That would have to do as well.
Back at his side, I tried to coax him awake. “Declan?” I brought a hand to his hot forehead. His black hair lay plastered to him. I smoothed it back. “Declan, you need to sit up. You have a fever. You need to take some medicine.”
Suddenly, his hand grabbed my wrist and pinned it down to the pillow. He looked at me, wild-eyed and crazed with fever. “Don’t you dare!” he spat out.
“Declan, it’s Kara.” Frightened, I brought a hand to his unshaven cheek. “You’re sick.”
Panting, he sank back down, exhausted, eyes on me still. I grabbed the Aspirin and water from his bedside table and brought it to his mouth, half-expecting him to bash it away against the wall. Instead, watching me, wary and guarded like a wounded animal, he parted his lips. I placed the Aspirin in his mouth and brought the glass to his lips. He drank a sip and swallowed, then drank more, finishing the whole glass. Then his eyes shut again and his hand fell off of my wrist. His body slumped, passed out.
“Declan?” I tried, knowing it was probably useless. His lips looked so cracked and dry. “You should drink some more. You look dehydrated.” My hand still shaking, I brought my palm to his burning forehead. He didn’t move.
I hadn’t seen a thermometer in his bathroom. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing he’d have anyway. Thermometers were for worried moms taking their kids’ temperatures. I was surprised Declan even had Aspirin.
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Nothing to do now but wait and see if his fever would come down from the medicine. I busied myself cleaning up, opening the windows to let in some fresh air, washing the dishes in the sink. I found a large water bottle and filled it with cold water. I filled his empty ice cube tray and set it in the freezer.
Back at his bedside, Declan lay looking more peaceful in a deep sleep. Tentatively, I brought my hand to his forehead. It felt cooler. My entire body sighed in relief. If the fever could be controlled with medicine, he’d be all right. Probably. He just needed someone to make sure he took it.
I wondered how long he’d been down there sick by himself. Had he spent all day yesterday passed out, no water, alone in his suffering? I’d been around yesterday, I could have cared for him. I felt sick I hadn’t known that he needed me.
I grabbed a towel and filled a bowl with cold water. At his bedside again, I brought the cool, wet cloth to his forehead. He stirred slightly under the sensation, but didn’t wake. I had to guess it felt good, he must have been so uncomfortable, sweaty and dehydrated and alone. I wet the towel again, then brought it to his face. His cheekbones stood out more prominently, his stubble longer than I’d ever seen it. Even gaunt and sick, this man looked like the hottest thing I’d ever seen.
The sheet lay bunched down by his stomach. He didn’t wear a shirt. It was a testament to how sick he was that I hadn’t fully noticed that fact until now. Unsure yet driven on, I dipped the cloth back into the cool water, then brought it to his chest. He lay there, unmoving. Slowly, I drew the cloth along his pecs, so defined, bare for me to study. I’d watched him so many times, seen him from a distance without his shirt, but now here he was, at my touch.
Tattoos played across his muscles, tribal swirls along one shoulder, a band around his bicep. I traced them with the damp cloth, using that as my excuse to touch where I’d wanted to for so long. I might have been cooling him down, but I was heating up.
The cut of his pecs, the ridges of his abdomen, I drew the cloth slowly along every inch. This man was pure, packed muscle. Down at his side, I noticed the white, tough skin of a scar. Tracing my fingers along it lightly, I wondered what had happened. It had faded so much I hadn’t noticed it before. It had to be old, something he’d gotten years ago, but it had to have been painful, several inches along his stomach. There was so much I didn’t know about him, but I wanted to know it all, every untold story, every secret.
Unleashed: Declan & Kara (Unleashed #1-4; Beg for It #1) Page 21
