by Lacey Savage
“That’s enough.” At another of Donovan’s trademark growls, the person backed off. He even murmured an apology, which Roxi was inclined to accept.
The man who’d been cupping her sex now used two fingers on each side of her labia to part her nether lips. Her entrance spread, and he must have gotten right down there to take a good look, because she could feel his warm breath on her cunt.
Something smooth and cold nudged her opening. She sucked in a breath, preparing herself for the inevitable intrusion.
“You need lube if you’re going to use that.”
Donovan again. Looking out for her, though he didn’t know the sound of his voice was the only lubricant she needed. Her pussy quivered, her folds growing slick even before the stranger brought the object to her entrance again. She recognized the glass tip of a dildo, one of the standard ones Brad provided for visitor use. It was now slick with lube.
The guy grunted as he slid the device inside. Her inner walls stretched to accommodate it, and Roxi did her best to fight the urge to thrust forward and sink the toy deep herself.
Someone grabbed her ass. Not the same guy…the fingers felt different. She thought perhaps this could be a woman. Not many female hands touched her, but she’d learned to appreciate the much gentler caresses when she could get them.
A sudden prod against her anus had her gasping. She clenched her teeth as the sound echoed through the otherwise quiet gallery. Whatever the woman had tried to thrust into her ass was huge, and hadn’t been properly prepared.
“No.” Luckily, Donovan noticed too. “One device at a time.”
“What’s the use of providing toys if we can’t play with them?” The woman sounded haughty, downright offended at having been interrupted while fondling the display piece.
“Use your common sense, woman.” The rumbling growl in Donovan’s voice turned deeper still. “Lacking that, there’s a brochure out front that lists the guidelines for what you may and may not do while you’re in here. It clearly states you may use only one toy at a time.”
The visitor scoffed. “That’s not enough for me.”
“Then the door’s right where you left it on your way in.”
Roxi blew out a breath as the woman relinquished her hold on her buttocks. A clatter reached Roxi’s ears, no doubt from the woman tossing the toy none too gently into the disposal bin.
A pair of large palms cupped her breasts. Two others slid along her rib cage. Yet Roxi relaxed, knowing that as long as Donovan was watching out for her, she was always in good hands.
* * * * *
Somehow, Donovan managed to last the entire day without blowing his load. It was a hell of an accomplishment, considering the way Roxi’s scent wrapped around his balls and squeezed every time he came within ten feet of her. When he’d learned the reason the last guard had quit, Donovan had laughed. He wasn’t laughing anymore.
Spending six long hours watching Roxi’s voluptuous body being used in the kinkiest ways would test anyone’s self-control. He was surprised the former bodyguard made it as long as he did. Donovan had been here two weeks, and it already felt like he’d spent two years guarding this woman.
When around her, his senses seemed to expand, functioning on constant overload. He’d become intimately attuned to her scent. One whiff the moment she walked into a room and his surroundings narrowed so she became the center of his world. Good thing for a bodyguard, he supposed, being so damn aware of his charge. Fucking awful thing for a wolf searching for a shifter mate.
Roxi’s scent masked all other odors, making it impossible for him to casually continue his search for a suitable mate while at work. Dozens of women strolled by him while he was on duty, but with Roxi around, a stink bomb could detonate right in front of his wolfish nose and he’d have no clue. Just yesterday he’d been standing right beside a stag shifter and would have missed the scent of prey altogether if the guy hadn’t been in heat. That, he’d been able to scent…the musky aroma of need that mingled with Roxi’s sweet essence and drove Donovan’s inner wolf into a howling frenzy. He’d been able to stop the sudden urge to shift from overtaking him, but just barely.
He’d thought this job would be easy. He’d been dead wrong.
Gritting his teeth, Donovan slammed the gallery door closed behind the last visitor of the night. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and braced himself for his final duty. Releasing Roxi from her restraints. The task he most looked forward to and dreaded.
Donovan pushed away from the door and took his time strolling through the front two rooms, giving wide berth to the pigeons and the monster baby. He made sure not to look at the giant tit at all. The thing freaked him out, and he was secure enough in his masculinity to admit it.
“Are they gone?”
God, he loved her heavy accent. European, with a sultry timbre that held a honeyed edge of pure sex. Too bad Brad had forbidden her from speaking while on duty. He could have charged double at the door for that voice alone.
“Every last one,” Donovan said. Brad usually stayed behind in case someone wanted to purchase one of the art pieces that were for sale, but he’d left early tonight. That meant Donovan was in charge of closing up. And he and Roxi were completely alone in the gallery.
“Thank God.” She wriggled her wrists in the leather restraints. “My arms are killing me today.”
He circled her, assessing the harness for the millionth time, and shook his head. Getting strung up and played with at the whim of strangers was a hell of a way to make a living. Why did she do it? Why put herself on display like this for all of New York and its tourists to have a feel?
None of my business, he reminded himself, just like he’d been doing since his first day on the job. He’d figured his curiosity would fade, and that the more time he spent around Roxi, the more his infatuation would dim.
Just one more thing to add to the never-ending list of shit he’d been wrong about.
Gritting his teeth, Donovan told himself he didn’t give a damn about this sexy little human or her kinky bent. He had only to do his job in her presence. The rest of the time, he needed to focus on his goal—find a wolf-shifter mate and return home to Thompson Falls with her in tow.
It sounded so damn simple. So why was it taking so long?
A growl slipped from his throat.
“Donovan?” Roxi started. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” he snapped. She shrank away from him, and he instantly regretted his harsh tone. “Sorry. Long day.”
“Tell me about it.” She sighed, wiggled her right foot. “Untie me?”
His hand closed around her ankle. He meant to do as she asked, he really did. But her skin felt soft, like satin, and her scent intensified the moment his fingers made contact with her flesh. From where he stood, he could see all the way up between her legs, into the pink softness at the apex of her thighs.
She was clean shaven, giving him a glimpse of the bounty that should have been hidden from everyone else, but wasn’t. Other men had gotten an eyeful of her intimate places. Other men had touched her there.
His lip curled. The thought made his wolf’s blood boil. Donovan tried to ignore the beast. He didn’t care what the wolf felt. Not one damn bit. But instead of yanking his hand back to Roxi’s restraints, he slid both palms up the length of her calf.
“What…” She sucked in a breath. “What are you doing?”
“What everyone else does. Enjoying interactive art.”
She shivered at his touch. “I am, as you Americans say, off the clock. Remember?”
“Not until I say you are.”
Her mouth parted in obvious surprise, revealing a bruise in the center of her lower lip. She must have bitten that spot often, perhaps while holding back her cries of pleasure as other men touched her. When jealousy slammed into Donovan this time, it wasn’t coming from his wolf alone.
His muscles quivered with anticipation. Her scent clogged his senses until he could think of nothing but her. Claimi
ng her. Having her. Marking her as his.
Her face fell suddenly, and her lower lip trembled. “You think I am a whore.”
The blunt statement, delivered in her sexy accent, yanked him out of the haze of lust. He eyed her carefully, taking in the story her body was so clearly telling. Goose bumps had broken out where he’d touched her, running up the length of her pale skin all the way to her areolas. Her small nipples were puckered into hard nubs.
“So what, then? You just like your job?”
“You know nothing about me.” Roxi released a deep breath and her chest heaved. God, but she was so damn beautiful. “You assume, like all men do, that because of what I do I am yours for the taking.” She tilted her chin up and somehow managed to look regal while doing it, even all tied and blindfolded. “I am not here for the sex.”
She was lying. He could see it in the pucker of those perfect nipples, smell it in the way her scent wrapped around him, feel it in the goose bumps raised across her silky skin. The corner of Donovan’s lips twitched. He’d always loved a challenge, and it sure sounded to him like Roxi was issuing one. “No? So sex doesn’t interest you one bit?”
“W-with you?”
A grin crossed his lips. He’d made her stammer. Twin red blossoms colored her cheekbones. Despite having seen her naked countless times, he’d never actually seen her blush before. He found he liked it. A lot.
He’d been alone too long. Ever since Samantha left, he’d been determined to remain celibate until he found his shifter mate. He just hadn’t expected his search to take this long.
His mouth watered. He imagined flicking one of her tempting nipples with the tip of his tongue, feeling the puckered edges, nibbling and sucking until he had her panting beneath him. But it wouldn’t be enough, for either of them. If he started down that path, he wouldn’t stop until she begged him to fuck her. And she would beg. He had no doubt he could drive her to the brink of insanity, until only his cock thrusting deep into her sweet pussy would bring her back from the edge of madness.
Donovan slid his fingers up Roxi’s leg, loving the way her muscles tensed beneath his touch. She trembled slightly, and the tremor ran straight through his blood, fueling his predator instinct. All tied up like this, she was the perfect prey.
A bead of moisture gathered at the edge of Roxi’s folds. It formed a tiny drop, and this time, he couldn’t resist the urge to taste.
He quickly knelt between her parted thighs and gripped her hips with both hands, steadying her in the harness, making sure he had her exactly where he wanted her.
Then he claimed her sex with his mouth.
An explosion of sensation careened through Roxi’s body. A cry tore from her throat and echoed off the walls. The muscles in her legs and buttocks clenched as she struggled to make sense of what was happening.
Donovan’s lips molded to her cunt. His tongue cleaved through her slit, homing in on her entrance and gently slipping inside.
She fisted her hands, dug her fingernails into her palms. The harness swayed, rattling the chains. Her breathing became ragged and she struggled to form a single word. “Donovan!”
He lifted his head. “Say my name again.” His voice was thick, rough, guttural. She almost didn’t recognize it.
She gasped as his warm breath caressed her folds. Her pussy throbbed, the need he’d awakened demanding more of what he’d been offering. “DDonovan.” She stumbled over the first syllable but managed to get his name out on a sigh. “What—” A gasp drowned out the rest of her words as he slipped a finger right where his tongue had been. Or a thumb, she guessed by the thickness of the single digit.
He didn’t thrust it inside her but simply nudged her entrance with the pad, teasing so her inner walls clenched, seeking to be filled.
Roxi’s head swam. She arched her back as far as the restraints would allow, seeking closer contact with his fingers, his mouth, his tongue—anything he was willing to give.
God… She hadn’t realized he wanted her too. They’d spent all this time together, and yet he’d done little more than grunt her way on occasion, like when she asked about the weather or wondered if he’d had a good weekend. She’d given up trying to initiate casual chitchat, because judging by the way Donovan looked at her as he freed Roxi from her bonds each night, well…she’d assumed he disapproved of her work.
Disapproved of her.
But a man didn’t have to like a woman to want to fuck her, did he? No more than a woman had to love a man to bring him to her bed.
As a newcomer to New York, Roxi had watched every episode of Sex and the City in an attempt to understand American relationships. And over the course of six seasons, she’d figured out that a modern woman could have everything she wanted. All she had to do was reach out and grab the prize with both hands.
Not that she could grab Donovan at the present moment, restrained as she was, but the concept was sound. She’d been drooling over him since Brad had first removed her blindfold, allowing her to see the new bodyguard. This was her opportunity to have some fabulous, no-strings sex with the guy she’d been fantasizing about for weeks.
Except…she hadn’t just been fantasizing about hot sex with a gorgeous man, had she? No, she’d been yearning for so much more. As crazy as it sounded—especially when she had his talented mouth on her pussy—she didn’t want a fling. Not with Donovan. She wanted him to cook her eggs and bacon after a night of passion, to bring her roses, to declare his undying love on bended knee.
“Stop.” She gasped out the word, as rattled by the sudden romantic flight of fancy as she’d been by the first touch of his tongue to her sex.
Donovan either hadn’t heard her or he didn’t give a damn. Because clearly, he had no intention of stopping. His finger slid deeper into her channel. His tongue circled her clit.
Roxi whimpered, wishing he’d removed her blindfold. She wanted to see him there, between her legs, his chin glistening with her juices, his eyes dark with lust. “Donov—”
She didn’t get to finish uttering his name. Just then, he closed his lips around her clit and sucked.
The orgasm he’d been teasing from her body exploded in a rush, careening through her with the force of a tsunami. Her body quivered. Cream soaked her folds, and the scent of her pleasure flooded her nostrils.
Through the fog of release, she heard a metallic rattle and recognized it as a belt buckle hitting the floor. She pictured Donovan standing naked between her spread legs, his large cock cradled in his right hand, the tip pointing straight at her opening.
She wanted him. Oh God, how she wanted him. But not like this.
“Enough! You have proven your point,” she panted, still fighting to catch her breath after the fabulous orgasm he’d given her. “I am a lustful whore who comes on demand. Is that what you want to hear?”
He growled low under his breath. The sound was menacing, and it sent a shiver down her spine. “You think this is a game?”
“Is it not?” A trickle of apprehension ran through her. Would he untie her now? Or would he take what he wanted anyway? “You win.”
“Ah hell, woman.” The sound of a zipper being raised told her he’d tucked himself back in. A pang of disappointment struck her chest. So much for getting to see whether the rest of him was as beautiful as she’d imagined. “I don’t understand you.”
“What is to understand?” She felt weird having a conversation with him like this, naked and bound, with the cream of her release running down her inner thighs. “I display my body. It is no different than a showgirl.”
“I think you mean a stripper. Showgirls are in Vegas, not New York, and as far as I know, they don’t take off all their clothes.”
Roxi blew out a breath. Was he always this infuriating? She liked him better when he didn’t speak. “Ask me, then. Ask me why I do this job.”
“I thought I had.” He made quick work of the cuff binding her right wrist, then moved on to the left.
“No.” Roxi rubbed her sore wri
st. “You assumed. There is a difference.”
“So tell me, then.” His voice softened. When he reached for her blindfold, his fingers slipped through her hair. “Why do you do this?”
A shiver rattled Roxi. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue then gathered up the courage to spill her dirty little secret. “Because…”
He slid off the blindfold and her breath caught in her throat. The lean lines of his jaw, the stubble that made him look rough and dangerous, the gray eyes locked directly onto hers, all conspired to make logical thought flee her mind.
“Yes?” he prompted.
Damn. Confessing would have been much easier if she didn’t have to look at him while doing it. She took a deep breath then murmured, “Because I can.”
“I don’t understand.”
He wouldn’t, would he? Donovan had “rebel” written all over him. He’d probably always done exactly as he wanted.
She sighed. “I was raised to be a good girl. To do what good girls do. Be chaste, remain a virgin until marriage, give birth to beautiful children. My lot in life has always been to be a good wife. It’s what my mother was, and my grandmother before her. Except…that’s not who I am. I didn’t want to get married. I wanted…” She pursed her lips, unsure how to share this part of herself without making his opinion of her drop even lower. At last, she shrugged. “I wanted to experience life.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And by life, you mean sex?”
She didn’t have it in her to be offended. Not when he looked so intrigued, and more than a little aroused. “Yes and no. I discovered I enjoyed taking off my clothes. Having many people see me. It was…exciting.” She’d stumbled upon her exhibitionist streak by accident one summer when her friends had proposed going skinny-dipping after the sun went down. While all the other girls had shed their swimsuits after they’d already slipped into the ocean, Roxi made a show of taking hers off on the shore and strutting around naked. She never even got wet that day. At least, not in the conventional sense.
