Tied Down

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Tied Down Page 9

by Vanessa Waltz


  He stabs the elevator button and draws me to his chest. “How did you picture our first night together?”

  Tearing our clothes off each other. “You talk a big game. It’ll be interesting to see if you live up to the hype.”

  “You’ve had your lips on me, hon. You know exactly how big I am.”

  “Yes, but can you use it?”

  The door chimes.

  “Can I fucking use it,” he repeats, grinning. “Funny girl.”

  “It’s an honest question.”

  “You’re about to find out.”

  Warmth bumps down my spine. Bastien leads me inside the elevator. The heavy doors shut, sealing with him. Fifteen floors.

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think about how I want you.” He pushes against me. I can feel the heat blazing underneath his shirt.

  I hear my trembling voice. “Just as long as you get it done.”

  “You talk about it like making a baby is a fucking job.”

  “We made a deal.”

  “That doesn’t mean it won’t be fun. Babe, I’ll have you begging for it.”

  All this banter won’t help me keep a distance. “That wasn’t part of the arrangement, Bastien. We get married—you knock me up.”

  “Actually, the compromise was I fuck you however I like. Did you think we’d have missionary sex every night until you got knocked up?”

  The needle swings to fourteen.

  My cheeks burn. “It’s better if we treat it like—”

  “I’m your husband,” he says. “I’ll have you my way or not at all.”

  He’s so goddamn intense. A line of desire spreads from my breasts to my pussy. The bell chimes and the door slides open. He tugs me into the hall. I focus on the heat of his hand and not on the mouthwatering bump between his legs.

  It doesn’t take long to find our suite. Bastien produces the keycard and opens the door. I walk inside, taking in the luxury of the room before the slam makes me jump. I turn, gazing at the handsome stranger who became my husband, the man who will father my children.

  When I gave up on love, I pictured countless nights without passion. Trying for a baby takes months, sometimes years. For some couples, it sucks the fun out of sex. It becomes a job.

  I can’t imagine that with him.

  He stands close. Excitement trembles through my body.

  Bastien places my hand on his chest. “I’m all yours, Eva. And you’re mine. Forever.”

  That breaks me. Any hope I had of keeping a distance while fucking him vanishes.

  My fingers curve into his shirt, and I yank it apart, savoring the broad, powerful muscles. God, there isn’t an inch of him that doesn’t feel like rock. He rips the jacket away. I pull the button-up off his back. A part of me wants to pause, to savor the feeling of a man’s body. There will be time for that later, when we’re both spent in each other’s embrace.

  He grabs my chin, forcing my mouth against his. It’s not the same chaste kisses as at the wedding. This kiss makes my pussy clench. He pushes me against the wall. His tongue plays with mine. I taste champagne and something gritty and wholly male. I dive my fingers into his hair and breathe in the scent of him. The straps slip off my shoulders. He unzips my dress.

  Cool air stings my skin, but he warms it with his hands. They can’t stop stroking my body—every inch of me. I step out of my wedding dress, the white lingerie Madison helped me choose drawing his heated gaze.

  He pulls back with a satisfied growl, thumbing my panties. “I had all these plans for tonight, but now it’s impossible to remember them.”

  I tug at the belt wrapped around his waist, the leather sound like a stroke between my legs. His eyes smolder as I pull it off. I unzip his pants, bending down to pull his shoes. His thick, powerful thighs flex under my hands. My husband is jacked.

  He lifts me into his arms. My pulse gallops ahead as he pins me against the wall. He kisses fiercely. And everywhere. All the way to my neck.

  I collapse on his shoulders as he takes me through the suite, kicking open the door to a room aglow with candles and a king-sized bed. I fall backward onto it, Bastien’s weight following me. He yanks the bra. Pushes my tits out. And then his mouth devours me.

  He flicks his tongue over my hardened nipples. Then he seals his lips and sucks.

  I dig my fingers into his neck. “Bastien, you will not draw this out.”

  “The hell I won’t. I have you all to myself for the first time, and I told you I’d make you beg.” He grabs one of my tits, squeezing.

  I can’t stop the shudder of pleasure rolling down my body. “This wasn’t supposed to be…fun.”

  “You must be out of your damn mind.” The scruff on his cheek grazes my skin as he moves to the other breast. “I need to break you in.”

  Wet heat hits my nipple, and I arch into his mouth. The lazy circle he draws with his tongue makes me gasp. He kisses me, laughing at my response.

  He strokes my stomach. “Don’t move,” he says. Then he pulls back, sliding off the bed.

  Missing his warmth, I sit upright and glimpse my husband’s naked body for the first time. My jaw drops. Underneath the soft shirts and the jackets, he hid a powerful body sculpted from years of exercise, heavy lifting, fighting, whatever it is. Muscles ripple his back. His biceps flex as he grabs my ankles and yanks. I glide down the bed, hooking my legs over the edge. My heart throbs when I check out the cock fisted in his hand. He leans and snaps the bra clasp. Then he pushes my knees together and tugs the panties off.

  My body’s on fire. He doesn’t have to touch me. His heavy stare warms my skin, devouring every inch. I wrap myself around his waist. I’m ready—so goddamn ready. He touches my pussy, sliding up and down its wetness.

  “I knew you were made for me.” He grabs my inner thigh and spreads me wide. His other hand plays with my clit. “You won’t last ten minutes. I’ll make you beg.”

  “What if I’m above that?”

  “Then you won’t get my cum.”

  “I’m not going to fucking beg.”

  He slips inside, probing my entrance, testing my walls. I clamp down. The tightness makes him groan. The hand on my thigh moves up my body, curving over my tits. He squeezes and twists, shoving his fingers. My gasp hits the air as they hook, stroking a sensitive, hungry part of me.

  His chuckles roll over my flaming cheeks. “You were saying?”

  I tighten around him. My wetness fills the room with an obscene sound as he fucks me faster, not bothering to be gentle. No, his goal is to work me into a frenzy. Make me beg. I won’t.

  Fingers still inside, he stoops low enough that his hot breath billows over my pussy.

  No.

  One kiss. That’s all it takes, and I’ll fly. Bastien’s mouth hovers over my entrance, and then wet heat spreads. He slides out, relieving me from the building explosion, and then his tongue fucks me. It’s too much to feel that powerful muscle sliding in, curving to hit the sensitive spot. I dig my heels into his back and bite my lip. My breathing ramps up and Bastien pulls away with a chuckle.

  “Not yet, Eva. It’s way too soon.”

  “You don’t… Oh my God.”

  He grins. “What?”

  “You don’t have to do this!”

  Bastien says nothing as he draws himself to full height. “Are you saying that because you hate this?”

  My heart throbs in my throat. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Liar,” he hisses. “Turn the fuck around.”

  “What?”

  Bastien grabs my waist, pulling me to my feet. He crushes me against his chest and slides his hands low to grab my ass. He tsks. “Starting a marriage with a lie.”

  He pushes and I catch myself on the mattress. I’m bent over, ass in the air. Bastien moves closer, his thighs touching the backs of my legs. He takes my hips, positioning me. I look at the closet mirror, which gives me a view of my humiliating position.

  “What are you—ah!”

  I see the flash of h
is hand before the smack echoes in the room. It’s fucking loud, and the burn spreads over my skin. My mouth goes dry as I watch him stroke the sore spot.

  “Did you spank me?”

  “That’s for fibbing. You love when I lick your pussy.”

  “I didn’t say—ah!”

  Another blow strikes my other cheek, and I whirl around, glaring at him. “What the hell was that for?”

  His smirk widens. “I love seeing my handprint on your ass.”

  My protests shudder to a halt as he adjusts his hips, pressing into the skin still blazing with his slap. A thick, hot length slides under my pussy. I look into the mirror—Bastien stands behind me, his cock jutting out between my legs. God, that’s sexy.

  I touch the head, marveling at the thickness and how he responds to my stroke.

  “I’ll break you in. Slowly,” he says. “I’ll go easy. How easy will depends on you.”

  He thrusts, sliding against my folds. Feels so fucking amazing. I’m alarmed by the sheer length of him.

  “What do you mean?” I gasp.

  “If you take my cock and scream for me like a good little wife, I’ll give you my cum. If not, I guess I’ll pound you until you break. Every time you get close, I’ll pull out.” He plants a kiss on my back, as though to sweeten his words.

  “You’re crazy. I’m not begging.”

  “We’ll see.”

  And then a broad force pushes into me. A shudder runs down my thighs as Bastien groans. My walls yield to his massive cock—so hard and warm. I buck my hips against him, ready to get on with it, but he pulls out. A second later the pressure returns, sinking deeper. I bite my lip to keep from crying at how good he feels without a condom. Removing that thin strip of rubber makes all the difference in the world.

  He yanks my legs, moving them farther apart as he slowly thrusts and draws out. He pauses in between to squeeze my hips. Fuck, he’s so big. A moan escapes my clenched lips as he pushes again, filling me completely. He buries himself to the hilt. I bunch the sheets in my fists. Pain lances deep within me when he grinds against my pussy, but a ride of ecstasy crashes, sweetening the burn.

  Bastien lets out a long sigh as he withdraws. The faintest note of struggle creeps into his voice. “Your pussy doesn’t want me to leave. Maybe it senses my premium cum and will do anything to get it.”

  Laughter shakes from my chest. “You’re…insane.”

  Then again maybe he’s right. I’ve waited years for this, and now that my body has what it’s been screaming for I’ll see this through no matter what I have to do.

  The ability to speak eludes me, as though every cell in my brain is focused on the cock inside me, the hands at my waist, and his deep breaths. God, I want him to come. The thrill of making a baby is like a lightning bolt to the pleasure rocking through my body. I push against him as he thrusts faster, pounding my very core. Heat suffocates me as Bastien’s tempo increases.

  He yanks my leg so that my knee rests on the mattress, and then he angles himself to fuck deep. I can’t stop it this time. A wild cry bursts from my mouth.

  With a growl, he pulls out and digs his fingers into my hips. “Are you ready to cave?”

  I don’t want him to win.

  “Guess not,” he says, laughing. “Get on the bed. I’ll fuck the pride out of you.”

  Shaking, I climb onto the mattress. He forces me down. My elbows sink into the comforter as Bastien straddles my legs. His knees slide over my calves. A throaty growl from him tingles my pussy, already sore from taking him. My neck arches as his fingers dive into my hair and yank. I moan as his pebbled head shoves inside, this time without waiting for me to adjust. My cries lift into sharp yells. I brace myself, hips jerking as he pulls me onto his cock. He releases me. My nipples tighten as he glides over them. He fucks me so hard I’m robbed of breath. The air knocks out of my chest. He pinches my nipple and grinds his hips against mine.

  Maddening desire swirls in my core, like liquid on the verge of boiling. My elbows buckle, face crashing into the sheets. Still he spreads me apart and dives in ruthlessly.

  “Please!” It tears from my lips.

  “Please what?”

  “I want you.”

  He slams into me again. “Not good enough.”

  My pussy clenches over air as he slides out. I roll onto my back as Bastien flips me, yanking my thighs so hard I slide. Briefly I feel him between my legs, and then we both sigh as he enters.

  I grab his neck and pull his head close to mine. His steely glare makes me fall to pieces. He needs this as badly as I do.

  “Fuck me. Please.”

  “Say it,” he growls.

  “Please. Give me your cum.”

  His breath teases my lips. “You can do better than that.”

  “Give me your fucking cum!”

  His laughter incenses me, and then a sharp thrust knocks the rage out of me. When he leans in, lips crushing against mine, I forget about everything he said. His kiss turns feral, biting down as his hips pulse. My fingers dive into his hair, and when he breaks from my mouth, he looks transformed. I recognize the monster from his eyes, suffused with lust.

  The grip on sanity slips away. I seek that sweet release. Every shove from him pushes me closer. He tongues my nipple, fucking me so hard it’s only a matter of seconds. His cock buries to the hilt as Bastien lets out a groan. Another violent slam triggers my explosion. I yank Bastien to my head, wanting to breathe in the smell of him as warm jets flood my pussy. My body pools into heat, clenching around him as I nearly pass out from kissing. We break apart. Gasp. He digs inside me, shoving his hot cum deep. I imagine it taking root, growing into a baby.

  A sleepy grin tiptoes across his lips. “You’re perfect. Just how I always imagined.”

  “You daydreamed of fucking me?”

  “More times than you think.” He kisses me again, softly.

  A sudden lurch of desire rides down my spine, into the cock still buried inside me. “I want you again.”

  You’re not supposed to want him.

  He grabs my chin. “I’ll need at least ten minutes. You drained me.”

  “We have to do this way more than once. Especially while I’m ovulating.”

  “We’ve got all night. Be as greedy as you like with me.”

  Bastien lies beside me, and I grab his swollen, wet cock. His eyes roll as I stroke him, working him until he’s hard enough to pound nails. Then he takes me from behind, and I brace against the wall. I’m already soaking from him finishing inside me. He pinches my clit as he pounds me, and another wave of hot warmth fills me as I dissolve into pleasure. We fuck until we’re too exhausted to keep going. Bastien pulls me into his arms and I can’t lift my head.

  Everything hurts. My thighs. My groin. Muscles in my ass I never knew I had. I ache everywhere he touched, sucked, and fucked me, but it’s a happy pain.

  My smile curves into the pillow. I grope for Bastien, whose side of the bed is cold. I sit bolt upright, heart hammering as I yank the comforter and pull a t-shirt over my head. It’s his, and the hem almost covers my ass. I follow the smell of crackling bacon and find him in the kitchenette, shirtless. Sunlight pours into the suite from the wall-length windows, throwing Bastien’s physique into sharper relief. After one night, it feels strange to call him my husband.

  He smiles at me. “Morning,” he says, giving my outfit a second glance. “Looks good on you.”

  “Good morning.” I walk into the kitchenette, somewhat shyly.

  “Didn’t expect you to wake up so soon. I thought I fucked you into a coma.” He sets the bacon aside.

  “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  “Is that a challenge, Ms. Romano? Ah—I guess it’s Mrs. Lucchese now.”

  That’s right. I slide into a stool next to the breakfast bar and play with my wedding ring. “So it’s not real to you, either?”

  “Two weeks ago I was a single guy without a care in the world. Today I’m married and trying for a baby.
It’s a little surreal.” He cracks eggs into the pan.

  “What happens next?”

  “Well, we move in together.”

  I join his side. “What happens when my father dies?”

  He shrugs. “We’ll go to his funeral.”

  “He’s been cagey with me, Bastien. I can’t get the truth out of him. Are we—will you be in danger?”

  The levity disappears from his expression. “No.”

  “You told me when I went to your house that it wasn’t safe. What’s changed?”

  He takes my hand. “You’re with me.”

  My face heats as he returns to cooking breakfast. That alone boggles my mind. How many mob wives can say their husbands cook?

  “How did you learn to cook?”

  “My mom,” he says, plating our food. “She made me help around the kitchen. I learned at a young age. She didn’t last long, but she taught me a lot.”

  We’ve never talked about his parents. “I’m sorry.”

  Bastien pulls his plate toward him, shrugging. “It was a long time ago.”

  Nothing much gets to him, does it? “I want to let you know that—when I have the baby—”

  “Whoa,” he says, grinning. “When? Are you pregnant already?”

  “No, jackass, but I will be.” I cut my egg with the side of the fork. “Anyway, you don’t have to be involved.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “All I need is a baby. I’ll handle everything on my own. The doctor appointments, everything. I don’t expect you to help raise the kid. What?”

  All trace of humor disappears from his face. “I will be involved, Eva.”

  When I had this talk with Marc, he accepted his role as a sperm donor with no complaints. “You really don’t have to.”

  “The baby will be mine, too.”

  My heart pounds at the warning in his voice, the darkness that suddenly shifts over his eyes. “I didn’t think you’d… I’m sorry.”

  His beam strains. “You don’t know me.”

  “But men like you have been around me all my life, and they sure as hell aren’t winning awards for changing diapers.”

 

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