by BETH KERY
“What is it, Angel?” he asked quietly, sensing her unrest…intuiting an unasked question in her eyes. What was making her so damn anxious?
“The…way you make love to me…”
“Yeah?”
“You’re not doing that to prove some point?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, growing wary.
She bit her lower bee-stung lip. “Alex…I’m not saying you’re doing anything purposefully or…consciously. No, listen,” she said quickly when she saw his suspicious look. “You don’t have to be a worshiper of Freud to believe in unconscious motivations.”
“So, what? I unconsciously want to tie down a woman before I make love to her because…let me guess, I carry some deep, dark hatred of women? That’s crap. I love women. Haven’t you been listening to what I said about my mom and grandma?”
“No! I don’t think you’re a misogynist. You’re missing the point completely, Alex.” She glared at him. “And on purpose, I think.”
“So why don’t you tell me exactly what the problem is, counselor.”
She flashed him an annoyed look, but he still sensed her uncertainty beneath her pique. “Well…it’d make a hell of a point that you stole your father’s girlfriend when you’re so angry with him. Wouldn’t it make even more of one to do in such an—inflammatory fashion?”
“Inflammatory?” he asked slowly. His brows knitted in confusion. Then he saw her blush and all the pieces started to fall into place. He leaned down toward her and spoke softly. “Angeline…you don’t think I spanked you because I wanted to humiliate you for falling for my dad, do you? Or that I restrained you down in the workout room to show how much power I have over my father?”
He saw the column of her throat convulse as she swallowed. “Well…I wouldn’t say I believe it, necessarily, but I did wonder…”
She faded off when she saw him shaking his head grimly.
“I’m not a die-hard dominant, Angeline, but I do like to take control of a woman’s pleasure in bed. I’m not into pain or humiliation. The thought of purposefully hurting anyone—especially you—makes me sick. But did I like spanking your ass—yeah. Did I like restraining you so you couldn’t run from your pleasure even for a second…so that you had to submit to your desire—hell yeah. That’s just how I’m built. I’m not going to apologize for it. It’s got nothing to do with my conflict with my dad. I don’t know why I’m that way, any more than I know why you’re that way.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you get turned on being restrained. You got so wet and hot after I spanked you last night that I thought I was living out a fantasy.”
She closed her eyes and her cheeks deepened in color. Alex couldn’t tell if her reaction was from embarrassment or arousal, but he suspected both.
The cheerful chorus from “Let it Snow” played in the background as he tenderly kissed her nose. “You’ve never liked it? Being restrained before?” he asked gruffly. He was relieved when she shook her head. He hadn’t been so sure he wanted to hear it if she replied to the affirmative.
He brushed his lips over her silky, warm cheeks. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, Angel. The way you respond to me is beautiful.”
She opened her eyes and gazed up at him, the mixture of uncertainty and trust in her big, dark eyes making his cock throb pleasantly.
“Come on. Let’s finish the tree or Christmas may never get here,” he said with an encouraging smile.
Chapter Eleven
Angeline watched the logs glow a vibrant orangish-red. Alex hadn’t stirred them once for the past hour and a half as they talked. It was almost as if they had their whole lifetimes to catch up on, and they were trying to make up for it in one evening. The only other light in the room besides the fire was the luminous Christmas tree. She didn’t know if it was the glow of her growing infatuation with Alex or not, but she’d never seen a more beautiful tree in her life.
“It’s nice,” she murmured, transferring her gaze from the festive pine to the fireplace.
“What is?” The sound of his deep, gruff voice so near her ear, the way he nuzzled a tendril of hair with his nose caused both a deepening of her relaxation and her skin to prickle in anticipation. How could it have been just yesterday that she found the rough quality of his voice harsh?
“That we don’t have to stoke the fire to keep warm.”
But she was privately thinking that it was nice to suspend her worries about being with Alex for once. She recalled what he’d said earlier about how his manner of making love to her was a personal choice and proclivity, not some way of punishing her for her relationship with his father. Even his inflammatory suggestion that it turned her on to be restrained during sex couldn’t penetrate her lassitude and happiness. Was what he’d said true? Maybe. She’d worry about it another time. The future didn’t exist, only this magical night did.
And Alex.
She sat with her back partially on Alex’s chest, his arms surrounding her. Both of them had their feet propped up on the coffee table. They’d eaten her dinner of roast chicken, potatoes, baked apples and a cranberry walnut salad earlier, followed by Angeline’s freshly baked sugar cookies and coffee. The chicken had been cooked perfectly. She wasn’t stuffed by any means, but she was feeling the effects of a good meal and several glasses of wine. Alex straightened and she felt his chin rest on the top of her head.
“The snow has let up,” he said quietly.
“Oh.”
“Disappointed?” She could tell by the sound of his voice that he wore his characteristic small grin.
“No…I mean, yes. Aren’t you a little?” she asked.
“No.”
She lifted her head and twisted around to look at his face. She’d been right. He was smiling. Something fluttered in her gut at the sight of his rugged, handsome face full of mirth.
“I’m not disappointed a little, I’m disappointed a lot. I’d gladly be shut in with you until spring.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You don’t believe me? There aren’t many guys who would turn down being trapped with a gorgeous, sexy woman who also just happens to be a fantastic cook.”
“Sex and food. That’s all men ever think about.”
He shook his head, his expression suddenly sober. “You forgot football.”
She snorted. He kissed her, absorbing her laughter. The kiss continued until Angeline forgot what it was she’d been laughing about. He spread one hand along the back of her ribs and rubbed her softly. Her pussy clenched in longing. Something about how big his hand was, how his hold made her feel so delicate, aroused her greatly. The kiss continued, at first slow and sensual as they explored each other fully, then greedy and hot as their fires amplified.
Alex sealed the kiss and lifted his head. He watched her face with an intent focus as his large hands settled on her breasts. Neither of them spoke for several taut moments as he took his time, stroking and molding her breasts to his palm. Her breath burned in her lungs by the time he calmly reached for the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head. She obligingly put up her arms and the sweater fell to the couch behind her. Alex’s blue eyes glowed like banked embers as he peeled the satin cups of her bra off her breasts, pushing the fabric down below her nipples.
Angeline made a choked sound of longing when he ran his fingertips over the exposed crests, and they tightened even further.
“Talk about a perfect Christmas present,” he muttered.
Laughter burst out of her throat, only to be followed by a soft moan when he ever so lightly pinched both nipples at once, alleviating the sharp ache that plagued them. Her hips squirmed as she instinctively tried to get friction on the hungry flesh between her thighs.
“Alex,” she whispered, her laughter forgotten as she stared into his rapt face while he caressed her breasts. She glanced down to see what he saw and groaned. The stretchy fabric beneath her breasts caused them to thrust forward in a flagrantly
sexual manner. Her nipples were responding eagerly to Alex’s hot gaze and skilled fingertips. Anticipation mounted in her pussy when he slowly leaned forward and slipped a nipple into his warm mouth.
His wet, slightly abrasive tongue and gentle sucking felt divine. Liquid heat flooded her pussy. She put both of her hands on the back of his head, holding him to her, running her fingers through his thick, soft hair and scraping his scalp with her nails. She wiggled her hips on the couch, desperate to still the delicious ache mounting in her pussy.
Maybe she grew a little frantic, because he suddenly lifted his head and cursed softly. The next thing she knew, he’d gently grabbed both her forearms and shoved them behind her back. He held both her wrists with one large hand and met her gaze.
“Give them to me, Angel.”
She whimpered as she arched her back and thrust her breasts high into the air. She couldn’t believe offering herself to him in such a deliberate manner while he held her wrists could arouse her so greatly. It felt like her sizzling clit would ignite with just the lightest of caresses.
“Now hold still,” he ordered before he lowered his dark head, his eyes still intent on her face. She cried out when he began to suck on her right nipple—not gently like before, but with a firm, strong suction. Her muscles quivered as she restrained herself from wiggling her hips around on the couch to get stimulation on her tingling pussy and burning clit.
She groaned in agonized pleasure when he began to lash at her helpless nipple with his warm, abrasive tongue. The need to stimulate her genitals grew until her muscles trembled visibly from forcing herself not to writhe against the couch. He continued to torture her nipple until Angeline released a rough groan of raw need.
“Do you want to come, beautiful?” he rasped, his breath falling across her damp nipple.
“Yes. Please touch me, Alex.”
He glanced up at her and then released her wrists from his hold.
“Keep your hands where they are and your hips still, or I’ll stop,” he warned quietly.
She ran her tongue over her upper lip and tasted sweat as she watched him plump both of her breasts in his big hands, pushing together the mounds.
“Alex,” she moaned when he pushed her nipples together and began to tongue both beaded crests simultaneously. She couldn’t help it, her arousal was too intense. She flexed her hips, pressing down on the couch. She didn’t wiggle around, but the indirect pressure in combination with Alex’s precise nipple stimulation gave her a tight, almost painful orgasm.
Alex must have understood her anguished whimpers of pleasure, because he rapidly unfastened her jeans and slid one long finger beneath her panties and between her labia. Angeline cried out in sharp surprise as her pleasure was liberated. She shuddered as Alex stroked her clit, playing her masterfully, coaxing every last note of bliss out of her shaking body.
She panted into the juncture of Alex’s neck and shoulder a moment later when he lifted her off the couch and headed down the hallway. Her breath still came fast and uneven by the time he lowered her to his bed. She felt his hand at her back, unfastening her bra.
“Let’s get you out of the rest of these clothes,” he said thickly. Angeline blinked, trying to see in the dim room. Light spilled from the hallway—enough for her to see the rigid lines of Alex’s bold features…enough for her to see his stark arousal as he stripped her out of her jeans, panties and socks. When he was done, she lay naked on his bed, her legs falling over the edge.
He looked at her from her face all the way to her bent knees, his gaze making her skin tingle wherever it landed. Finally he met her stare.
“I told you not to move out there. It made you uncomfortable, coming like that.”
She bit her lower lip. “I had to move. I couldn’t help it.”
His grunt sounded dissatisfied. He pressed his pelvis against the mattress and Angeline realized for the first time that the mattress of the bed was higher than most. Alex’d made the bed match the man who slept in it.
Who made love in it.
He ran his hands under her thighs and up over her buttocks, his touch making her shiver with pleasure.
“But I told you not to move.” She gasped softly when he gave both of her ass cheeks a taut squeeze with his big hands. He smiled. “Now I’m going to have the pleasure of punishing you for not doing as I said.” Maybe he noticed the uncertainty on her face because she caught the glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he continued to mold her ass to his palms.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, beautiful. Not now. Not ever. I just want to make you burn.”
“All right,” she consented in a whisper.
He leaned down and kissed her—roughly at first, hungrily. But as was his custom, he slowed once he’d staked his claim until that hot, tender possession made her toes curl in the air. His bed was so tall, she couldn’t even reach the floor with her feet. She moaned softly when he sealed that drugging kiss and gently turned her over onto her belly. He grasped her wrists and pressed her hands down to the mattress above her head.
“Alex,” she moaned in a heated rush when he leaned down over her body and explored her skin with his mouth, using the tip of his tongue to outline her sensitive ribs, planting small kisses at the small of her back…nipping softly at her waist and hip. He pressed his groin to her buttocks…not hard. Not lewdly. Instead, the light pressure of his heavy erection against her ass left her panting in desire…craving more. She sensed his hunger as he sensitized her flesh, felt it swelling and growing, mixing with her own arousal until she couldn’t differentiate where his began and her own ended.
“I’m going to use my paddle on your bottom now, Angel.”
Heat rushed into her pussy. He suddenly parted her ass cheeks and lifted her slightly off the mattress. Once again, his effortless strength, his ability to lift and position her in whatever way fulfilled his whim of the moment aroused her unbearably. Angeline cried out in surprised pleasure when she felt his warm tongue lap along her sensitive tissues—just once—a single, electrical caress that went from her tingling clit all the way to her perineum. Then he was gone, his absence making her ache mount.
He groaned roughly.
“How much of that sweetness is from knowing you’re going to get a paddling on that beautiful ass of yours?” he teased gruffly behind her. He moved and she was left missing the pressure of his big, hard body. She came up on her elbows and watched him as he moved toward the bedside table. He eyes had adjusted to the dim light. She could see the black leather paddle he withdrew from a drawer perfectly. Her eyes widened even further when he also withdrew the now-familiar handcuffs.
He turned toward her. Even though her clit twanged in excitement, she turned on her hip, instinctively denying him her ass.
She stared as a huge smile broke out on his face.
“What are you grinning about?” she demanded, feeling a mixture of irritation and blatant arousal at witnessing once again his irresistible sexuality when he smiled.
“Didn’t I tell you I’d never hurt you?”
She held his gaze and nodded once. Heat pooled and seemed to thicken in her pussy. Apparently her body’s strong reaction came from seeing Alex standing over her holding a paddle and handcuffs.
The power he could potentially wield over her struck her full force for the first time. It was intimidating to consider.
“You have to trust me, then, don’t you? Roll back on your belly. I’m going to handcuff your hands over your head.”
Angeline did what he said, her heartbeat starting to drum out a loud tempo in her ears. She rested one side of her face on the mattress, feeling a potent mixture of helplessness and anticipation, power and excitement. Alex carefully smoothed her hair away from her forehead and cheeks. Once her hands were restrained, he surprised her by moving back toward the bedside table. This time he removed what looked like several feet of a black strap. When she saw the two loops, she lifted her head, her gaze darting up to his face. Perhaps he saw her doubt,
because he hesitated as he came toward her.
“Is it too much? I’ll understand if you think so. I usually don’t ask it of a woman so soon. I just…”
“What?” she whispered when he trailed off.
“I just want you so much. I want…need to feel you giving yourself to me. No reservations. But I’ll understand if you say no.”
She stared at him for a tense few seconds. Insecurity chose that volatile moment to surface. What if he really is using you? What if you really are nothing more than a means for inflicting pain upon his father? Alex wouldn’t even necessarily be conscious of his intentions, given the oldness, the primacy of his wounds. But you’d be left wounded in the end all the same.
She looked into Alex’s eyes and saw the wild intensity of his need. It was the realization that he’d exposed his raw desire to her—exposed himself to her so honestly—that made her decision.
She nodded, her throat too tight with emotion to speak.
Neither of them spoke as he tightened the straps around her ankles. She couldn’t quite make out what he was doing at the corner of the bed, but by the time he came back behind her, she lay belly down on the mattress, her bottom at the edge, her arms handcuffed above her head, her thighs spread and her ankles restrained to the two corners on the side of the bed.
She was naked and Alex was completely dressed. She was spread out before him, helpless and quaking.
She’d never been so excited in her whole life.
Her breath stuck in her lungs as she watched him pick up the leather paddle from the bed. She’d had plenty of time to examine it while he restrained her, since he’d set it down not far from her face. It was about sixteen inches long, including the handle, and four inches thick.
It looked like it could hurt.
But Alex had said he didn’t want to cause her pain, and she believed him. It was too late to change her mind now, restrained as she was to the bed.
Her heart felt like it leapt into her throat when he softly caressed first one buttock, then another.
