by Terri Austin
“Who are you, Brynn Campbell?” She’d enchanted him. Her giving nature, her kind heart, her tender ways—her sensuous body. She was far too good for the likes of him, but Iain was too much of a selfish bastard to walk away.
She peeked up at him through her long lashes. “I’m just a normal girl. Nothing special about me.”
“You’re a marvel. Everything about you is special.”
Color filled her cheeks as she peeled the shirt over his shoulders and down his arms. Iain ripped at his cufflinks and shrugged it off.
For an instant, they were both motionless, staring at each other’s bare torsos. And then, as if by some unspoken mutual agreement, they lunged for one another. Iain bumped his chin against her forehead, and Brynn smacked her nose on his sternum.
She laughed then. Dear God, he’d never heard a more beautiful sound. He grinned back at her. “Shall we try it again?”
“Can I go first?”
“Yes.”
She stretched her hand out but didn’t touch him right away. Instead, she looked at him as if she were trying to memorize every square inch of skin.
If she didn’t make a move soon, he’d lose what little patience he had left. “Brynnie.”
She gazed up at him. “My family calls me that.”
He hadn’t known. The report he received didn’t contain nicknames or a childhood pet or her favorite color. “If you don’t like it—”
She shook her head and a wayward curl danced against her cheek. “I do like it.” Brynn placed her palms flat on his chest before squeezing his pecs.
God, yes. Finally, her hands were on him.
Brynn traced the curve of each muscle with her thumb and brushed her fingers over his nipples. He sucked in a breath. This was brutal, having her touch him like this and not touching her back. Still, he held himself in check. Letting her get used to him all over again. When she did, he’d take charge. They’d both enjoy that.
Brynn leaned forward and circled his nipple with the tip of her tongue. That felt like heaven. “Do that again.” She did, and added a little bite for good measure.
Working her hands slowly downward, over his rib cage, she seemed particularly interested in his abs, and smoothed those nimble fingertips over each and every indentation. It felt amazing, made him harder than he’d thought possible. “I’d love you to sit for me,” she said.
“Pardon?”
Brynn’s hands wandered back up to his shoulders. “So I can draw you. I want to catch all the shadows and nuances of your body.” Nuances of his body. That was the sexiest thing anyone had ever said to him.
“I’ll be a willing model.” He stopped her exploration by moving her hands to his hips. “Time’s up. Now it’s my turn.”
He couldn’t touch everything all at once, so he started with her enchanting face and brushed his finger across the arch of one eyebrow. She lowered her eyes once more. “Be brave,” he whispered.
Lifting her head, her jaw tensed. “I’m not a brave person.”
“Oh yes, you are. You’re here with me, despite that voice in your head telling you to run. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
She scanned his face then, probably searching to see if he was having her on.
He wasn’t. “I don’t lie, darling. I tell it like I see it.”
“And what do you see in me?”
“Kindness. Goodness. A gentle heart.”
“You don’t value any of those things,” she said.
He trailed a finger down her cheek, across her jawline. “I do when I see them in you, Brynn.” With her pretty, upturned face and her bare chest, she was so vulnerable right then. Insecurity shone in her eyes. “I’m not playing with you, pet.”
* * *
His expression was serious, his tone sincere. That teasing dimple was nowhere to be found. For some reason, Iain Chapman wanted her. From the moment they’d met, the attraction between them had been combustible. Inevitable.
Brynn had never felt this close to a man, had never let herself be this open and trusting. But she felt a connection with Iain. It was crazy. Beyond explanation. Everything about him was intimidating, and yet he stood there between her legs, stroking her face, telling her she was a marvel.
Keeping his eyes trained on hers, his warm hands caressed her cheeks, her jaw, down the sides of her neck, sending little tingles in his wake. The heat under her skin shot upward and she could feel the splotches and silently cursed them. Iain didn’t seem to care. He wasn’t looking at her splotches. He wasn’t even staring at her tits now. He just kept eye contact as his hands moved lower, over her shoulders. Then, with breathtakingly light movements, he skimmed his fingers over her breasts.
Brynn had always been self-conscious about pretty much everything, but especially her breasts. But Iain called them perfect. He had a way of speaking so bluntly that she believed him.
He cupped each one in his hands. Then lifting them, he didn’t pinch her nipples but rather squeezed her areolas. At first he was gentle, almost too gentle, but he gradually increased the pressure, causing a delicious ache.
Finally, Iain lowered his eyes and stared down at her chest. “You like that.”
She nodded. Her breaths were becoming more rapid, her heart raced faster. “Yes,” she whispered. She’d screwed her eyes shut. Every tug on Brynn’s breast sent a corresponding pull straight to her clit. She was damp and needy. But it was more than that. She felt almost cherished when Iain touched her. What was it about this brash, hard man? Somehow, in spite of barely knowing him, she was starting to trust him—with her body, if not her heart.
When Iain took one breast completely in his mouth, her eyes popped open. He sucked and licked at the same time, knowing just the right amount of pressure to exert. Brynn basked in the contrasting sensations—his teeth gently biting her nipple while his rough stubble scratched along her rib cage. She ground her hips downward and squirmed in an effort to find some relief. “Iain.”
His mouth eased off, and he gave her a last lick before raising his head. Brynn gazed down at her breast. A wet swath glistened on her puckered nipple. When Iain softly blew on it, Brynn shivered.
Then he pulled away and lifted his head. “Lie back, Brynn.”
Dazed and desperate to ease the hot bolts of desire shooting through her, Brynn unhooked her feet from his waist and lowered herself to the counter. But the granite was cold, causing Brynn to arch her back, thrusting her breasts upward.
Iain slid one finger between them. “I can see the outline of your bathing suit. You like the sun.”
“I have a pool,” she panted.
“Have you had sex in it?” His voice had grown hoarse. The dark brown flecks in his eyes became more pronounced as he touched her, tracing along her tan line.
“No, never.”
“We’ll have to change that.”
Brynn gasped in surprise when Iain grabbed handfuls of her skirt, jerking it downward. Brynn automatically lifted her hips so that Iain could tear it off. Once he did, he raised her knees, then placed her feet on the edge of the counter.
The only thing that stood between them was a wisp of silky panties. For a long, heated moment, Iain simply stared at her. As he did, all of her old doubts and fears rose to the surface. What if he couldn’t make her come? What if last night had been a one-off, never to repeat itself?
Iain stroked her thighs. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He shook his head. “Now, love, I know that’s not true. You’re worried about the orgasm bit, aren’t you?”
Brynn rubbed her lips together. “I’m fine. Please continue.”
He laughed at that. “I do love when you get all polite and demure.” He slipped one finger over the elastic waistband of her panties. “But we’re past that.”
Then he ran his hand over her inner thighs, down to her calves. With a light touch, he caressed her ankles, then reversed his path until his thumbs rubbed the curve where her ass met her legs. But his gaze rem
ained on her, giving Brynn a thread of calm. “Do you know what your problem is? You think too much.”
“Says the man whose brain never stops working.” The words came out in choppy gasps, as if she’d been sprinting.
“Sometimes, my mind dims a bit while my cock takes over. You’re the one who blathers on about feelings, but when it comes to this”—one of his thumbs slipped beneath the elastic and skimmed over her slit—“your brain kicks into overdrive, yeah?”
“Yes.” Closing her eyes, Brynn tried to relax. When he circled her clit, she nearly leaped off the counter. “That…that’s really good.”
Instead of continuing, Iain’s thumb stopped working its magic as he removed it from her panties. Then he clamped his hands over her thighs.
“What?” she asked. “Why’d you stop?”
“From this moment forward, we’re doing it my way.” His accent was stronger now. His brusque tone sent a sharp thrill zipping through her. This was the part she liked the best, when he got bossy. A steel hand in a velvet glove.
Not knowing what Iain had in mind should have scared the hell out of her, but hearing him take charge had the opposite effect. “Yes.”
She’d barely gotten the word out before he straightened, took her hand to help her sit, then scooped her off the counter. With his arm beneath her legs, the other wrapped around her back, Iain nuzzled her neck as he tromped through the living room and down the hall. His shoes echoed off the wooden floor with each step.
He walked so fast, Brynn felt a little dizzy as he took her into a dark bedroom. She was disoriented, couldn’t see a thing except for the silhouette of Iain’s face. He lowered her to the bed with great care, placing her on silky bedding that felt cool against her skin. He stood and moved away. She missed his body heat.
With a click, Iain turned on the bedside lamp. Brynn got an impression of dark, sleek furniture and chrome accents, but she didn’t focus on any of that. She was too busy watching Iain unbuckle his belt. His body was more than impressive. It made her weak just looking at him. She’d never been that interested in muscular men, but that was before Iain had held her in his strong arms. As she continued to observe him, those thick slabs of muscle in his chest and abs bunched and contracted—beautiful, fluid movement.
While Brynn enjoyed the view, Iain watched her. “Lie down.”
That pulled her out of her daze. She didn’t know what he was planning, and anxiety fluttered in her belly once more. She sat up, pulling her knees to her chest. “Wait.” Brynn needed some ground rules before they started. “I’m not sure how far I want to go with this. Maybe we should decide on a safe word.” The thought of nipple clamps and paddles nearly made her break out in a nervous sweat. Light spankings, harsh commands—all good. Anything more would be too much. But what if Iain needed more?
His face softened, and he moved to the bed. Reaching out, he ran a hand through her hair. “We decided this afternoon, yeah? We’re not hard-core. You don’t need a safe word, love. Tell me to stop if you don’t like what we’re doing. Just make sure you mean it. Now lie down.”
She took a deep breath. With his reassurance, the anxiety was replaced by a thrill of excitement, a rush of adrenaline. This time, without hesitating, Brynn did as he commanded. The tension weaving its way through her belly ratcheted up when Iain tugged on his leather belt. It slid around his waist, breaking free of each loop. He was going to use that belt on her. She knew it, could feel the purpose in his deliberate movements.
Was he going to tie her up? Turn her over and spank her ass? Brynn had no clue. Usually, the unknown was something to fear. Familiar tendrils of panic would wind their way around her chest. That little voice would whisper, You can still make a run for it. That had always been her MO—to run, to hide, to hover in the corner and stay invisible. Not this time. Brynn couldn’t wait to see what Iain had planned. For once, she wasn’t scared. She was titillated, breathlessly anticipating what he’d do next.
Iain had been wreaking havoc on her nerves all day. She’d been on the edge of arousal since he’d instructed her to touch herself. Damp and hot and empty. After what they’d done and how her body had responded, she could only imagine how amazing it would feel once Iain was finally inside her.
So because of all that, running wasn’t even an option. Instead, she stayed put and did the opposite. Bending her legs in a seductive pose, she thrust her breasts upward. Her tits drew Iain’s attention, and his face grew tight with lust. Brynn felt sexy and beguiling. It was intoxicating.
After kicking off his shoes and toeing off his socks, Iain unbuttoned his trousers, letting them fall in a puddle at his feet, but he kept the black leather belt tight in his fist. When he removed the silk boxers, she got another view of that hard, long dick. Had it only been this afternoon when she’d sucked it and taken it deep in her mouth? Brynn bit her lip. She wanted to taste him again. In fact, she wanted to sample all of him. Because the rest of Iain’s body was every bit as compelling as his cock. His biceps were large. His thighs were well defined, too. Smooth skin, steely ropes of muscle, a delectable cock. In a word: lickable.
“Brynn.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “You keep looking at me like that, love, and it’ll be over too soon.”
Yeah, his accent was definitely thicker now. More evidence of his arousal. As if the eight inches staring her right in the face weren’t enough.
He took a step closer to the bed. “Stretch your arms above your head. I’m going to tie you up.”
Chapter 13
Brynn’s heart stuttered as she waited, struggling to breathe normally. This was what she’d always yearned for. To surrender completely to a man’s will while still feeling safe. Protected. But not just any man. Only Iain.
As he looped the belt around her wrists and wrapped it tight, his cock was right there, next to her lips. Brynn needed another taste. With the tip of her tongue, she licked across the broad head, dipping into the crevice.
Iain drew an audible breath. “I didn’t give you permission to do that, pet.” He took a half step back, just out of reach.
Nibbling her upper lip, she tilted her head, staring up into that beautiful face. “I wanted to taste you again.”
“Then ask for it.”
For once, Brynn didn’t feel embarrassed or shy. Even though she was submitting, she wasn’t powerless in this situation. Just the opposite. “Can I please suck your cock, Iain?”
He held himself still as his hands ceased their movements. Then the belt slackened around her wrists. “Open your mouth wider.”
He was permitting this, and he could take it away at any time. Her pussy pulsated almost to the point of pain. Her stomach muscles quivered as his gaze burned over her, so hot it was almost tangible. He may have been in control, but he wanted it as much as she did.
That afternoon’s interlude in the car had been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to Brynn, but this…this was even better. She was about to have sex with Iain Chapman, and that was nothing short of miraculous.
She opened as wide as she could, and Iain gave a shallow thrust of his hips, guiding his cock between her eager lips. While he wasn’t exactly gentle, he didn’t shove himself down her throat either.
Instead, Iain cradled the back of her head and leisurely fucked her mouth. As he slid in and out, Brynn slicked her tongue over the head every time he moved forward. Closing her eyes, she relaxed her throat, willed him to go deeper, but he remained steady. Brynn could get addicted to this—tasting Iain, sucking him dry.
When she moaned, he jerked free from her. She opened her eyes and glanced up at him.
“Enough of that, Brynnie.” He bent over her and readjusted the belt, wrapping it around her wrists before cinching it. His torso blocked out the bedside lamp. With his body cocooned around her, Brynn took a deep whiff of his chest. His arousal mixed with the heady aroma of his cologne. She wanted to wrap herself in that smell.
Before he straightened, Brynn swiped her tongue over his flat
nipple. She gasped in surprise when he took a fistful of her hair and gave it a small tug. “Enough.”
Experimentally, she tried to pry her wrists apart, but they were tightly bound together, restricting her movement.
Iain used her hair as leverage and forced her head back. His eyes were dark in the muted light. “Trust me, love.”
The words calmed her and Brynn’s heart found its rhythm again.
“I’ll be right back.” He walked across the room to what she assumed was a closet. When he reemerged, he carried a blue-and-white striped tie in his hands. “I’m going to blindfold you.”
Brynn didn’t know what to think. Yes, she’d played these scenarios out in her fantasies, but this was the real deal.
“If you tell me to stop, I will,” he reminded her.
“Okay.” She lifted her head from the pillow and Iain placed the silk tie over her eyes and secured it behind her. Brynn flopped her head down and tried to adjust to the darkness. Her ears were now attuned to new noises—the click of the air-conditioning, Iain’s quiet movements.
When he lowered himself to the bed, Brynn’s breath became trapped in her throat. She flinched when Iain stroked his hand across her cheek, touched the corner of her lip, tapped his fingers over the hollow of her throat. Brynn swallowed that breath as his hand dipped lower—over her chest until finally, he cupped her breast.
“Stop,” she blurted out.
True to his word, Iain lifted his hand so that he no longer touched her. But she could feel it hovering. Still. Waiting. Heat radiated off his palm and leeched into her skin.
When Brynn inhaled, her nipple grazed Iain’s hand, but he didn’t move. Not being able to see his expression or anticipate his reaction—it was both maddening and tantalizing at the same time.
Brynn took another deep breath. Again, her nipple brushed his skin and hardened on contact, yet Iain remained immobile. For a third time, she pulled air into her lungs and held it. When she let it out, bit by bit, her breast tightened and became heavy, tingling with sensation as it dragged against him.
