Taking a deep breath, he turned to the corner where she’d barely moved one of her lovely muscles in the past hour and a half. He raised his hands out to his sides. “So…?”
Kennedy pulled her feet beneath her, then stood. The thigh-high boots had come off while she waited, and the vulnerability of her pink-tipped toes and pale legs made his breath catch.
“So…that was interesting,” she said.
Interesting wasn’t negative, at least. He approached her like the wild doe she was, watching for any sign that she would bolt, that fear twitched at her insides. She went still, silent, her gaze fixed on his chest as he stepped forward. Awareness flared in the emerald of her eyes the minute his scent hit her, his heat.
Another good sign.
“What do you think, Ken? Want to try it?”
He could see the war inside her, the natural, adventurous Kennedy fighting with old fears, old constructs. The drive to have her beneath his hands and his body urged him to give her a push in the direction he hoped she would go.
“How about this?” He let his body brush hers, brought his hand up to tangle in the heavy fall of her gorgeous auburn hair. “How about we only focus here”—he trailed a finger from her collarbone to her breast, wishing her clothes weren’t hiding her from him, then to her belly, her hip—“and leave your arms free? No control, no restraint, just a pretty design on the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Kennedy’s breath caught, and something like hope flared in her eyes. “Is that okay?”
“Anything’s okay if it’s what we both agree on, Ken.” He used his grip in her hair to pull her head back, leaned in until their breath mingled. “I have one favor to ask, though.”
Kennedy swallowed, her lips rasping against his. “What favor?”
He retraced the path of his finger, stopping at her breast to circle a nipple. “I want to tie you bare.”
“Bare?”
“Bare.” Because he wanted to take her for the very first time with his ropes on her, with his knots digging into her skin, marking her, branding her as his. And make no mistake—he was going to take her, if for no other reason than to give them both some relief from the fire burning between them.
Kennedy arched her back, forcing her breast into his palm. He cupped her, traced his thumb along the silky edge of her top.
“Okay,” she whispered shakily. “Okay, Isaac. Bare.”
Voices outside the door made her stiffen.
He shifted his hand from her hip to the small of her back, surrounding her from breast to spine in his warmth. “Not here, love. I want you all to myself, no interruptions, no time restrictions. We’ll go back to the penthouse.”
“Not my place?”
Ideally, yes, where she would be most comfortable. But… “My team won’t stand down till they have me back at home base, and…” He pressed her closer, the length of his erection digging into her belly. “I want to take my time. I want you relaxed, comfortable…” Mine. Christ, only the presence of five other men in the SUV would keep him from taking her on the way home.
But he could wait for this to be perfect, no matter how much his cock screamed for instant gratification. Kennedy laid her mouth above his heart, her arms coming up to circle his neck, hold on tight. “Okay.” A restless shift of her hips against his. “Let’s go.”
He had them back in the Escalade with minimum fuss. On the return trip to the Sovereign, Kennedy curled against him, her hand on his thigh, far too close to where he intended to have it later tonight. Far too soon for him to stay in control.
“Here we are, boss.”
Nick’s announcement hit like a splash of cold water. Isaac gripped Kennedy’s bold hand in his as they followed his friend back to the penthouse. With a nod of thanks to Nick, he escorted her straight up the stairs, barely daring to breathe until he had her in the bedroom, door closed and locked. Kennedy faced him in the low light from the bedside lamp.
Finally.
He immediately began unbuttoning his shirt, the heat of his need making him sweat. When Kennedy moved to undress, he stopped her. “Let me.”
She dropped her hands, a mysterious smile touching her lips as she waited. He stripped his shirt off. Kennedy’s eyes flared.
That’s right, love. Look at me. Want me. Need me like I need you.
He positioned her in a clear spot near the bed. “Wait here.” The one lamp wasn’t enough; he wanted to feast on the sight of her, every inch of her body. The light on the opposite nightstand helped, but he turned on the lamp by the desk as well, the three allowing him to see every sweet hollow and gorgeous curve without the glaring distraction of the overhead light.
Kennedy gave a soft laugh as he strode back to her. “You look like a little boy headed for the cookie jar.”
“And I’m about to gorge myself,” he told her. In fact, there was so much he hungered to do to her that he wasn’t sure where to start. Digging in his bag, he came up with a short piece of ribbon. “Hold your hair up.” The heavy fall was beautiful, but he wanted her shoulders clear for his rope.
Kennedy gathered her hair as he circled behind her. Once he knotted the cloth around it, he dropped his gaze, then his mouth to that vulnerable square of skin at the back of her neck. Goose bumps rose beneath the soft brush of his lips.
“Isaac.”
His name was a moan more than anything, and the way she reached back for him, her fingers digging into his thighs, made him feel about twenty feet tall.
“I’m going to unwrap you like a Christmas present I’ve waited all year for. Nice and slow, so I can savor every moment.”
She gripped him tighter. “Nice and slow might kill me.”
“Oh no.” He nipped the curve of her neck. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he went to work on the knot of her shirt. “I won’t let you get away from me now.”
The silk loosened, falling away from her body. He slipped the fabric down her arms. The pale expanse of her shoulders was the perfect canvas for his ropes—black, maybe, to contrast with all that creamy skin and the vibrant red of her hair. What color were her nipples?
He needed to find out.
One by one he unhooked the clasps of her corset, laying it to the side when he was done. He didn’t peek over her shoulder then; no, he made himself wait. It was torture to go to his knees instead, but there he could undo the catch of her miniskirt, pull down the zipper. The sight of her black lace thong strangled a growl out of him. “Ken.”
Splaying his fingers, he started at her shoulders and dragged his hands down her body, absorbing the feel of her, the living, breathing warmth of her. The narrow waist. The plump ass. He palmed the firm cheeks, his hands full, his thumbs so, so close to the entrance of her body. When she shimmied into his hands, his cock gave a jerk that made him hiss.
He unzipped her boots and urged her out of them. Only then did he come to his feet and circle around her for his very first glimpse of her bare breasts.
“Fuck, Ken.”
They were bigger than they looked in her clothes, probably because her rib cage was so narrow. Full, round globes topped with hard pink nipples that begged for his touch. He closed his eyes, swallowed hard.
“Remember what I said about killing me,” Kennedy teased, her voice unsteady. “That look will do it.”
He couldn’t wait—he had to kiss her. The softness of her mouth, her tongue was matched by the breasts he cupped, kneaded, squeezed. When he took her nipples between his thumbs and fingers and twisted gently, she went up on her toes, begging with her kiss and her grip on his neck and the push of her pelvis against his cock for him to give her what she needed.
Sensitive. Generous. When he finally got inside her, Kennedy might be the one killing him.
“Come with me.” He urged her toward the bed, settled her on the edge, then knelt to dig in his bag. When he turned back, Kennedy was squirming.
“Isaac, why can’t we just—”
He shook his head. “I want my brand on you
before I ever get inside you. I need it. And”—he leaned in close to lick one rosy nipple, suck it into his mouth, nip it—“I think you’ll like it.”
He began with a loop around her waist. Knots on the front only, so that when he laid her down and pounded into her, she wouldn’t be distracted by anything uncomfortable. Two lines down the outsides of her breasts pushed them together, like the sexiest suspenders he’d ever seen, the sight making him promise himself that someday he would fuck himself there, between those gorgeous tits, her nipples between his fingers as he pleasured himself on her body. He had to shake the image off to finish the two loops that formed a tight bra, lifting her breasts apart and out for his viewing pleasure.
“Lie back, love.”
Kennedy eyed the strands dangling down the front of her body with misgivings, but did as he asked, positioning herself on the pillows at the top of the bed. She watched as he spread her legs and pulled the ropes down, down, down to a central knot, then beneath her to meet the single line at her waist in the back.
“This—” She stopped to clear her throat. “This is like what you did with Ali.”
His grin was as wicked as he could make it. Hands shaking, he parted her shy lips, gifting himself with this first glimpse of her pretty pink core. He went to his elbow, bringing his mouth right to her body. The scent of her musky desire drowning him, he trailed his tongue up her slit, tasting her cream, opening her even more so he could position that knot just over her clit. A gentle press to the top and—
Kennedy’s hips bucked. “Isaac!”
A chuckle escaped, and much as Kennedy tried to glare, he could see her desperation building. He sat up, pressing a palm firmly on her lower belly. “Hold still,” he commanded.
“Isaac, I—”
She tilted her pelvis, and as designed, the knot pressed down on her most sensitive spot. Her words cut off with a strangled cry.
Isaac shifted backward to leave the bed. “Kennedy, do what I said. Be still.”
“That’s impossible,” she muttered, a frantic note in her voice. And she was probably right. Kennedy hadn’t been trained to obey, wasn’t playing the role of a submissive here; she was all Kennedy, all wide open, and he loved that about her. He loved that she wasn’t shy about being splayed in front of him, having his greedy gaze on her as he stripped off his shoes, socks, his pants and underwear coming off together. Her own gaze devoured him as he reached for the bedside drawer and the condom box inside. “Isaac, hurry!”
He did. Even so, she was writhing on the bed, her hands at her breasts, plucking, squeezing, so much so that it took a heavy hold to still her for him to crawl back between her legs. By that time she was chanting his name.
“You’re going to get there before I’m ready.” He gripped her thighs, lifting so he could slide his knees close beneath her body. His cock bobbed, so rigid it bounced against the knot at Kennedy’s clit.
“God! Yes, Isaac, yes!”
He didn’t wait. She didn’t need him to, and every cell in his body was screaming with the need to be inside this beautifully wild woman he’d been privileged to take to bed. Holding his breath, he lined the tip of his cock up between the two strands of rope and drove himself deep inside.
Kennedy detonated on the spot.
His eyes crossed, but he held himself deep, letting her take her pleasure, devouring every second of her climax. He had no doubt he’d replay the sight in his thoughts for years to come—nothing he’d ever seen, no woman he’d ever been with could compare. She burned, so vibrant, so alive, the black harness framing her perfectly, marking her as his.
When those gorgeous green eyes finally opened, he smiled despite the quivering strain of holding back. “There she is.”
Kennedy smiled and stretched, only then seeming to realize they weren’t done. Her eyes went wide, then heavy-lidded.
Christ, she was magnificent.
He slid back, a guttural moan escaping him at the glove-tight fit of her body. “Kennedy.”
She lifted her hips to meet his return thrust. “Oh yes.”
He set up a rhythm, every thrust grinding the knot against her clit. When he bent to take a nipple into his mouth, Kennedy gave a startled scream, her body flooding his cock with creamy wetness, encouraging him deeper. Every suck, bite, and thrust pushed them both closer and closer to the pinnacle, the tingle down his spine, in his balls warning him of imminent release. But he held it back, needing to savor, needing to remember every second of Kennedy’s pleasure, her beauty, her screaming orgasm beneath him.
He needed to remember the moment he made her his.
Chapter Fifteen
Her pillow wasn’t familiar. Neither was the warm hand splayed over her belly.
Wait—that was familiar. The heat. The weight.
Isaac.
She stretched, feeling the pull of her muscles, the soreness between her legs. Cool air pebbled her nipples as the sheet slid down her body, and she couldn’t hold back a moan, half pleasure, half complaint. Isaac had been thorough last night, and he was definitely a breast man. Which was great because her breasts were incredibly sensitive, but then, her breasts were incredibly sensitive. Months of celibacy meant the focused attention could be felt keenly this morning, especially in her nipples.
A hard male chest pressed against her arm. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”
A laugh tickled her throat, though she kept her eyes closed. “That’s not how that fairy tale works.”
Isaac nudged her head to one side, burrowed beneath the tangled strands of her hair, and then his warm lips surrounded her earlobe. A shiver shook her.
“I’d give you a more proper kiss,” he said, his voice early-morning—or was that post-sex?—rough, “but…morning.”
The laugh escaped this time. “My sexy Australian Dom has a hang-up about morning breath?”
Callused fingertips trailed over the sensitive tip of her breast, then paused to tweak it. Kennedy jumped, the pleasure-pain drawing a gasp. “It’s a hard limit, not a hang-up.”
Isaac shifted down her body, and she opened her eyes to catch a glimpse of chaotic blond hair and laughing blue eyes before he dipped his head to her breast. Harsh stubble scraped her berry-pink nipple. Her hands flew to his head, ready to force him away, when the hot wash of his breath replaced the scrape of beard. A moan escaped from deep in her throat.
“Are you complaining?” he asked right before he laved the sensitive tip with a broad sweep of his tongue.
She arched her back, pressing closer. “Not if you keep doing that.”
Isaac half covered her with the weight of his body, holding her down as he switched to the opposite breast. He took that nipple into his mouth, the tight suction almost too much to bear, sending a shaft of pleasure from breast to clit and back again. This time she dug her fingers into the silky thickness of his hair to force him closer, urging him to take in more, to give her more. When his hand pushed between her legs to stroke her clit, she couldn’t hold back a cry.
Isaac nipped at her breast, jolting her with the sharp bite of pleasure. “This is going to be a better wake-up call than coffee, I promise.”
She widened her legs and tilted her pelvis into his hand. “Promise?”
Two fingers invaded her already slick channel. Kennedy hissed at the fullness—thick fingers, her body swollen from last night—but urged him forward too. The tight fit rasped nerve endings begging for relief, and Isaac gave her exactly what she needed, a hard, heavy rhythm that shot her arousal into the stratosphere in mere seconds.
She threw her head back. “Isaac, please!”
With a growl, he switched breasts. When the sharp edges of his teeth surrounded her nipple and bit down lightly, her entire body clenched, shook, seized.
Isaac was staring down at her, a totally male look of satisfaction on his face, when she finally surfaced. She couldn’t resist teasing him.
“I don’t think you kept your promise,” she said, letting her eyes slide closed again.
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“What?”
His offended tone got one eyelid open. She chuckled at the look on his face. “I don’t feel awake at all. In fact”—she turned on her side and cuddled against him—“can’t we just go back to sleep?”
He slid the sheet down her body and, when her ass was bare, gave it a firm smack. “Is that better?”
“Hey!” She rubbed at the offended body part, but the bubble of happiness practically choking her refused to allow her to pretend offense for more than a few moments. “I thought you weren’t into all that spanking and stuff.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m definitely into spanking and stuff. I just like to tie you up first.”
Hmmm. “Good to know.”
They lay just like that, heads on the same pillow, staring into each other’s eyes, for the longest time. She knew she should move, get up, do anything to protect herself from the feeling of sinking deep inside him where few people were probably ever allowed to go, but she couldn’t. She was losing herself, and she didn’t want to stop.
“Isaac…”
“Kennedy.” He lifted her hand from his chest and brought it to his face, cupping his own over it to press her closer. “Tell me what you thought about last night.”
His voice had dropped into what she was starting to think of as his Dom register, that commanding tone that curled her toes and made her want to fall to her knees. Except that wasn’t her, was it?
A sigh escaped.
Isaac nipped her palm. “Tell me.”
She really didn’t want to. It was all so fresh, so confusing. “I enjoyed it?”
“Is that a question?” he asked, laughter lightening his eyes. “Because the multiple orgasms you had already told me the answer is yes.”
She rolled her eyes at the satisfaction in his words. “No, it’s not a question. Just don’t go getting a big head about it.”
His hips nudged her thigh, his semi-erect cock making its presence known. “Too late.”
Her hand tightened around his jaw. She rubbed her palm over his stubble, enjoying the rough texture, the real Isaac, when public Isaac was mostly smooth edges. Distracting herself from the burn of tears at the backs of her eyes. A caring, considerate, and yet rough and ready lover who also made her laugh in bed. He really was the perfect package.
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