by Terri Austin
Brynn planted her hands on those pectorals and Iain’s muscles leaped beneath her palms. As she moved her hands lower, he sucked in an audible breath, causing his abs to contract. They were a work of art—firm, rigid. Even his obliques were sculpted down to the hint of a V-cut peeking out of his pants. The bulge at his fly was even more impressive up close. She stared at it as she continued to feel him, gliding her hands over his hot skin. With each passing touch, Iain’s breath became increasingly heavy and uneven.
Fingering his raised muscles, Brynn gave herself free rein to manhandle him as much as she wanted, exploring to her heart’s content. She wasn’t the kind of person who fucked someone after knowing him for two days, but she felt as if she’d fallen into some kind of trance.
Then Iain grabbed Brynn’s hands, holding them away from his body. “I said look at me.” His sharp tone whipped through her, snapping her out of that dreamy state.
Brynn gazed up into his eyes. She blinked a couple of times and tried to pull away. “What am I doing?”
“You’re taking my clothes off. And I’m about to do the same to you.”
She shook her head. “There’s something I have to do tonight.” If only she could remember what it was. She tried to break free, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Is this a mistake?”
He thrust her hands to her sides, pinning her. “The only mistake you made was leaving me in the restaurant today. Who the bloody hell do you think you are? No one treats me that way.”
Brynn opened her mouth to answer, but he swooped down and slanted his lips over hers. Unlike the kiss in the elevator, there was nothing soft or persuasive about this. This kiss was punishing, harsh. He didn’t give her a chance to kiss him back, but took complete control.
And Brynn loved it. She tried to move her arms, but he kept them anchored to her sides as he swept his tongue into her mouth. This was possession, pure and simple.
Brynn’s heart pounded. Allowing her head to fall backward, she submitted to his kiss, his branding. And she wanted more of it. His hard, demanding lips sent every one of her nerve endings into overdrive. Her tits throbbed, her nipples hurt, her pussy clenched, feeling empty, hungry.
Iain let go of Brynn’s wrists and circled one arm around her hips, latching onto her ass, kneading it roughly while he thrust his other hand into her hair. He gripped it near the scalp and forced her head to one side.
Brynn slid her hands beneath his shirt and clung to his back. When he nipped her lower lip, her legs buckled. Fortunately, she was close to the bed, and with very little effort, Iain tipped her onto her back. He didn’t let go but followed her down, stretching himself out on top of her.
The edges of Brynn’s robe parted, and when Iain wedged his knee between her legs, the material of his slacks brushed against her bare pussy. Brynn ground her hips against him. The friction was amazing. Having Iain’s weight on top of her, his tongue tangling with hers—so good.
When he rose to his knees and tugged off his shirt, Brynn reached out, unbuckling his belt. She wanted to see for herself just how big he was.
Iain fiddled with his cufflinks and tossed them to the floor before yanking the starched shirt from his arms. Brynn stopped working his belt and just stared up at him. His wide shoulders were perfection. The biceps were large and solid with veins running beneath the smooth skin. Her fingers itched to trace them.
She felt another wave of desire wash over her. That heady desire gave her license to ignore all her reservations and give in to temptation. Sitting, Brynn abandoned his belt and trailed her hands up his waist, past his sternum. Closing her eyes, she explored his shoulders and the shallow indentation where they met his arms.
When Iain pulled at her kimono sash, Brynn’s eyes popped open. She found him staring at her, his eyes dark and hungry as he untangled the knotted belt. With deft fingers, he had it loose in no time, then peeled the robe off her body.
Completely exposed to the cool air, her nipples became tight points. She tried to cover herself.
“No,” he ground out. That one word had Brynn lowering her hands. “Don’t you dare cover up. I need to see you right now. Been thinking about it all bloody day.”
Brynn had never felt this sexually attractive. Potent. Feminine. He placed both palms over her breasts, and his hands felt delicious, his warmth intoxicating. But when he abandoned her breasts a moment later, her body turned cold at the loss of contact.
Iain stepped back from the bed and removed his pants. Now he stood in front of her wearing only silky, black boxers from which the head of his dick poked out of the waistband. A dot of moisture glistened along the slit. Brynn’s need suppressed all the fear, the doubt, the worry that usually plagued her. She lowered her head to lick that drop—salty with a hint of sweetness. Then, darting her tongue out, she swirled it around the tip, like an ice cream cone.
“Brynn.” Iain’s rough voice demanded attention. Brynn lifted her head and looked up into his eyes. “Touch me, pet.” He tugged the boxers down over his hips and his cock bobbed forward, longer and thicker than she’d imagined.
Instead of grasping him in her hand, Brynn gently tracked the length of him with one finger, all the way down to his sac. He shivered when she touched him there. So Brynn did it again, lightly scraping her nail across his skin. She smiled when his dick twitched. Before she could repeat the motion, Iain grabbed both of her hands and had her flat on her back. He stretched out beside her, forcing her arms above her head, keeping both of her wrists secured in his firm grip. When Brynn tried to pull away, she found herself captive. Yes, finally. This was what her body craved.
“Hold still.” It did something to Brynn when Iain went all authoritative. It made her hot. Eager. All this time, she’d wondered what it would be like to be dominated by a strong man. The reality was more sensual, more provocative than she’d ever imagined.
Arousal flashed through her. Her body literally ached for him, but it was more than just physical. Iain stirred her emotions. She was all mixed up—vulnerable yet unashamed, submissive but powerful in her femininity. Brynn’s thoughts were a jumble.
Once Iain cupped one of her breasts and flicked the nipple with his thumb, she quit trying to figure it all out. She tilted her chin toward the ceiling, reveling in the moment. He toyed with her breast, massaging it in rough, unhurried circles.
“Spread your legs.”
Enthralled by his demanding words, she was powerless to do anything but obey, planting her heels on the bed and letting her knees fall open. Besides, Brynn wanted more of his expert touch. The man knew what he was doing. His caress wasn’t hesitant, as she’d experienced in the past. Iain was self-assured and seemed to know just what she needed.
He increased the pressure on her breast, pinching her nipple, making her crazy. Each squeeze heightened her excitement until Brynn was breathless, wondering what he’d do next. Her heart beat erratically in anticipation.
Iain wasn’t gentle when he dipped his head and took her other breast into his mouth. Then he began to suck—long, slow pulls. A hot tug of desire ran from her breast to her clit. She was throbbing now, as his teeth tightened against her budded nipple. It was glorious, being helpless to his whims. She was participant but restricted—her fantasy come to life. The one she’d played out so many times as she masturbated, though Brynn seldom made the leap and climaxed.
She tried to put that from her mind, to forget about the end game and just enjoy Iain’s warm tongue circling her nipple. She tried to move her hands again but couldn’t. That stimulated her more than she thought possible—being held down, ravished. Nothing in her daydreams had prepared her for the reality of being helpless and bound.
As he continued to suck, Iain’s touch on her other breast relaxed and skimmed her sensitive skin. Brynn shivered. Oh, that was good too. His hand brushed down her body, lingering as he traced over her stomach. No matter what amount of pressure he used, his touch was powerfully erotic, leaving little tingles in its wake.
Brynn grou
nd her hips into the mattress, desperate for some relief. Inside, that persistent tension rose and twisted, taking her right to the edge. If Iain would only touch her clit, she just might topple over. Her pussy was so heavy and swollen. Ready for him. Instead, his hands fluttered over her ribs, traced her belly button. She was going to lose her mind. Pressure ratcheted deep in her belly. With each graze of his hand, with each sharp sting of his teeth, it built. She needed…something. Anything. Brynn’s moan sounded like a sob, a wordless plea.
Iain’s hand drifted lower, rubbing her hip. With languid strokes he finally—God, finally—worked his way downward and cupped Brynn’s mound. When he ground the heel of his hand against it, she bucked her hips.
Iain raised his mouth from her breast. “Hold still. Understand? Don’t make me say it again.”
She shivered at the command, her clit throbbing beneath Iain’s palm. She wanted him to press down again, so she froze and prayed he’d continue. Desire made her almost dizzy. Please don’t stop. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but she would if he didn’t start kneading her again. Soon. If he ignored her for too long, she wouldn’t be able to keep the words from escaping. She’d beg. She’d bargain. Brynn would promise him anything, if only he’d bear down on her pussy.
After a long moment, he placed his mouth over her breast once more and sucked hard, using his lips, his tongue. Brynn willed herself to remain motionless. Finally, Iain began to massage her mons in a circular motion. When he slid two fingers inside of her, Brynn stopped breathing altogether.
Then without warning, her body jerked and her hips leaped off the bed. Sharp, almost violent sensations flashed through her, causing her pussy to contract, her toes to curl. Oh hell. She closed her eyes and tried to hang on as her body tightened. But another spasm, strong and unexpected, tore her to pieces, robbing her brain of oxygen. His fingers pumped faster, not allowing her any relief. Iain Chapman manipulated her body, forcing her higher. When another surge hit, every thought in her head dissolved.
With her stomach muscles quaking, Brynn rode out the mind-numbing waves of pleasure. It seemed to go on forever; it didn’t last long enough. Once her body stopped shaking, she opened her eyes.
She lay limp, exhausted. Exhilarated. It was the most intense experience of her life. Between the confident way Iain touched her and his bossy, domineering attitude, Brynn had shattered beneath his hands. His wonderful, talented hands. She could come—it just had to be under the right circumstances. And the right partner.
She realized that Iain was staring down at her, a bemused look on his face. “You all right, love? You seem a bit gobsmacked.” He wiggled his fingers, which were still sheathed firmly inside of her.
She gasped. “No, I’m good.” She tried to sound all casual and cool, as if having an orgasm were a daily occurrence, but Brynn’s voice came out a little squeaky. Now, after the heat of the moment, her self-consciousness returned. She was lying there with a naked man, a client no less. Who just rocked your world so hard you can’t even move. Yeah, he’d done that all right. “Really. I’m good.”
He opened his hand, releasing her from his grasp, and Brynn rotated her wrists. “You like it when I take charge.” Very carefully, he pulled his fingers out of her body.
Though he hadn’t asked a question, she answered anyway. “Yes, I liked it,” she said softly. Truthfully.
Iain moved to cover her with his big body. “I know,” he murmured against her lips. “I liked it, too.”
Brynn enjoyed the solid weight of him. His chest hair tickled her breasts. She wanted to experience all of him, every inch. But as she wrapped her arms around his back, the front door opened and slammed shut.
“Brynn?” an accented voice called from the entryway. “Where are you?”
Chapter 6
Shit. “Get off me,” Brynn hissed and slapped Iain’s shoulder until he rolled over. She hopped off the bed and tripped over clothes as she ran to the bedroom door. A gold cufflink dug painfully into her heel. “Hang on, Tash. I’ll be out in a sec.”
She shut the door and locked it, then spun around in a blind panic. Bending down, she began gathering Iain’s clothes and tossing them toward the bed. “You have to leave.” Ice-cold reality doused her passion, chilling her naked body and bringing with it the realization that she was standing in her bedroom with a virtual stranger. She didn’t even have any condoms on hand. Brynn hadn’t had sex in ages. What in the hell had she been thinking?
You weren’t thinking; you were too busy coming. Be grateful, jellyfish. She was grateful. And horrified. And embarrassed.
Her hands shaking, Brynn pulled at her robe, which was trapped beneath Iain’s leg. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you?” He lifted his thigh, freeing the kimono.
Brynn backed away from him and yanked the robe over her shoulders. She held the edges together, covering herself.
Iain stood, still hard and ready to go. “Who is that out there?”
“My neighbor, Natasha.”
“She just barges in, does she? Doesn’t even bother to fucking knock? Go get rid of her.” As he walked toward her, Brynn couldn’t take her eyes off him.
“I can’t. She’s a steamroller, like you.”
Iain stopped in front of her and, cupping her chin, forced her head up. “Get rid of her. I’m taking you out.”
Brynn clutched the robe so tightly, her hand cramped. There was something about dinner, something she needed to do. Oh, crap. SNO. She was supposed to have dinner with her sisters. “I can’t. I have plans.”
Iain turned and grabbed his boxers. As he stepped into them, his butt flexed. Even his ass was stellar. He glanced back at her. “The boyfriend, yeah?”
Brynn shook her head. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
He reached for his slacks. “Good. That makes things easier.”
Brynn had made it too easy for him already. Just a few kisses and a couple of imperious commands, and she’d abandoned all of her common sense.
She pressed her lips together and gathered her courage. “Maybe it’s a good thing we were interrupted. I don’t feel that casually hooking up is right for me. I realize I gave that impression a few minutes ago. I apologize for sending mixed signals.”
“No apologies necessary, pet. But you were going to fuck me, which you admit is out of character. Why is that?”
Brynn tried to think of a reasonable explanation but came up blank. Could she claim temporary insanity? Iain made her feel very reckless. Irrational, in fact. When she was near him, Brynn’s senses were attuned to his every move. Her body responded to his voice, his smell. It was alarming. But she wasn’t about to outwardly acknowledge any of that. Brynn pressed a hand to her stomach. “Out-of-control hormones? That’s my best guess.”
Iain laughed and that dimple appeared. “Try again.” He fastened his pants, then grabbed his shirt, thrusting his arms into the sleeves. “This thing between us, love, it’s inevitable. It might not happen this minute, but it will happen.”
“No, I don’t believe that. This was a onetime thing. I work for you. Personal and professional lines shouldn’t cross.” Brynn walked to the closet and yanked open the door, taking a second to secure the belt tightly around her waist. “Right now, I need to get ready, so if you could finish dressing, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Are you trying to dismiss me? You won’t get rid of me that easily. And I like crossing lines. I do it every chance I get.” With his shirt still undone, his feet bare, Iain padded toward her. “I’ll do things to your body that you’ve only dreamed about, Brynn Campbell. I can be your sexual facilitator.” He rested his hands on her waist.
Brynn’s fingers froze on the hanger, her mind spinning with possibilities. She’d done a whole lot of dreaming over the years. “Sex,” her voice cracked on the word. “Sex is the most primitive form of communication. I hardly need an instructor to figure it out.” He laughed again and pulled her backward, so that she rested against him. “What makes you think I’m
not sexually experienced?” she asked. “Maybe I could teach you a few tricks.” What the hell was she talking about? The only moves Brynn knew were the ones she’d seen in pornos, most of which required a serious lack of inhibition and a lot of muscle control. But Iain’s arrogance had gotten the better of her.
“In spite of the fact that you were gagging for it five minutes ago,” he said, “you have an innocence about you. I think you could use a little corrupting.” He kissed her cheek, then moved away.
Brynn wanted to be corrupted. Just having Iain hold her down had been enough to let her fall over the edge into bliss. But she worked with him. For him. And he was too domineering outside the bedroom—which, if she were being honest, she kind of enjoyed—the rudeness, though, that she could live without.
While continuing this little encounter would be sexually gratifying, they weren’t a good match. Brynn was too much of a pushover and Iain would tromp all over her, wipe his feet on her feelings, and then do it again. It was simply his nature, like it was Brynn’s nature not to stand up for herself.
“When was the last time you had sex, Brynn? Are you taking precautions?”
She turned to find him completely dressed. Even his tie was knotted. Iain had something in his hand. It looked like a pair of dice.
Brynn didn’t want to discuss sex or birth control or what they had done five minutes ago on the rumpled bed. “It’s not going to happen again, so let’s not talk about it.”
“Are you embarrassed?”
“Yes. Extremely.”
“I had my fingers inside of you, pet. The time for embarrassment is over. And it is going to happen again, so answer the question.”
Brynn turned back to the closet, pulled a pink maxi dress off the hanger, and bit her tongue.
“You’re not a virgin, at least not technically. You have been with a man before, haven’t you, love?”
