Inside the apartment, she found purely masculine décor with a definite flair. A navy, white, and taupe color scheme, comfortable couches, large-screen television.
“Who decorated?” she asked, certain he wasn’t the type to hang ornate mirrors or purchase knickknacks to give the place a homier feel.
“My sister, Lucy.”
She nodded. “She has good taste.”
“It’s what she does. My brother, Gabe, runs the family business, which includes exclusive clubs around the country. Ever hear of Elite?”
She nodded, impressed. “I recently read about the opening on the island Eden.”
“That’s them. Lucy does the décor.”
“A family business yet you’re a cop.” She grinned. “Like to do things your way?”
He laughed. “More like that’s how Gabe likes to do things. My parents died in an accident when I was nineteen. Gabe took over and made sure I went to college and became a cop because that’s all I ever wanted to do. He sacrificed his needs to let me and Lucy have our own.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
Decklan didn’t reply. Sympathy always made him uncomfortable. So did the knowledge that he always felt like he owed Gabe. Another reason he felt so out of control after his parents died. He might have achieved his dream of being in law enforcement, but he’d done it at his big brother’s expense. Gabe never complained. But he’d never had a choice in what he wanted to do. Gabe had become the defacto parent. It was one of the reasons Decklan gravitated toward the BDSM scene. Regaining control helped him deal with his darker emotions.
“He sounds like a great guy,” Amanda said.
“He’s an ass.”
Amanda spun to face him, her eyes wide in surprise.
Decklan shrugged. “He is. To everyone but me, Lucy, and his new wife, Isabelle. He had to be to get where he is today. But I respect him even when I want to throttle him.”
“I wish I had siblings.”
“Only child?”
She shrugged. “Unfortunately.”
He was suddenly aware of how intimate the conversation had become. More like two people getting to know one another than the reality—two people who’d come together for sex. He pushed aside the feeling that talking to her was easy and that he wanted to dig deeper into who she was. What had created the insecurities he’d witnessed earlier. The sadness he heard in her tone now.
Time to move the conversation forward. “Come.” He directed her into his small kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”
She shook her head. “This kitchen is so comfortable. Do you cook?” she asked, glancing around.
“No. I usually pick something up on the way home from work. What about you?”
“I’m an expert.”
He turned her to face him, his hand beneath her chin. “If you lived in town, I’d have to have you show me your talents.” He was surprised to find he meant it.
She batted her eyelashes at him and said, “If I lived here, I just might do that.”
Cute, he thought. She was cute. “Did you eat dinner?” he asked.
“Yes, before the club.”
“Good.” He stepped closer. Her scent enveloped him. The memory of her warm and wet around his fingers brought him back to instant hardness. “Then we’re both ready for dessert.”
Her soft lips parted but no sound came out.
Pleased with her response, he headed to the refrigerator and paused, turning to face her. He had a plan and now was the time to execute. “In my bedroom now. Down the hall, first door on the right. Clothes off and wait for me there.”
* * *
Just like that, Decklan was back to being the demanding man from the club. Just like that, Amanda was wet and wanting. Knowing what awaited her if she hesitated, she found herself tempted to wait. But sensing something even better would come her way if she obeyed, she met his hot gaze, nodded, and walked off toward the bedroom.
Nerves beat at her with heavy wings. Old insecurities threatened. At the club, she always negotiated dim light, then she and her partner engaged in consensual play, bondage and submission, something she’d learned fed the need to please that lived deep inside her. Growing up, she’d always fallen short no matter how hard she tried, be it in schoolwork, sports, or most especially, her looks.
When Brad had suggested she try a BDSM club for her issues, she’d been wary. But she’d discovered he was right. In submission, she’d learned not only to accept herself, something that was obviously still in progress, but she’d also gained the satisfaction of pleasing someone else. And she really wanted to please Decklan, though she intended to keep the lights low here too. She’d desired him from first glance, and he made her want everything she could get from this one night.
With shaking hands, she stripped off her clothes, folded them, and placed them on the dresser. Cool air conditioning embraced her naked body, and she immediately glanced down at her thighs.
A clatter sounded from the kitchen, and she jumped in surprise. The noise reminded her she didn’t have much time. Remember Decklan wants you here. It was the last thought that gave her the final boost of courage to climb onto his king-sized bed, ease her bare self back against the pillows, and settle in. But not before dimming the lights.
She didn’t have to wait long. He strode into the bedroom with a bowl, spoons, a bottle of chocolate syrup, and a sexy gleam in his eyes that caused her stomach to flip with excitement.
He turned his gaze on her naked body. She knew better than to think the lack of lighting affected his ability to see, except in her mind. Only pride and the lessons learned tonight had her remaining in place.
“I thought I was dessert?” she said, eyeing the items he placed on the nightstand. She couldn’t explain the impulse or comfort level that allowed her to tease him while she was so exposed.
He rewarded her with a low growl of clear pleasure. “Oh, baby, you are.” He crawled onto the bed, his big body levering up and over hers.
Before she understood his plan, he pulled a Velcro strap hanging from the headboard slat and clasped a cuff over her wrist.
“Remember your safe words. Red, I stop. Yellow, we talk. Green, and we keep going,” he said as he did the same to her other hand, binding her to his bedframe.
“Now you look good enough to eat.”
His approval slid through her, like warm honey, and her nipples puckered in response.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Green,” she murmured, her body trembling. For the second time that night—or maybe ever—her mind began to slip away.
“Should I bind your legs?” he asked, immediately shaking his head, answering his own question. “No. I think I’d like to feel them wrapped around my waist while I sink deep into your pussy.”
Her stomach dipped in anticipation.
Decklan slid a hand over her stomach and deliberately paused there. She stiffened reflexively. He felt it as well as saw the flash of panic cross her face.
He continued to watch her, had been since walking into the room and noticing the lack of lights. Not for the first time, he wondered what had put such issues in her head but knew now would be the wrong time to ask. He had to soften her mind, calm her racing thoughts.
Make her believe the truth, that all he wanted was her. She was fucking gorgeous, bound to his bed, blonde hair spilling over his sheets. She was all woman, and whoever had convinced her otherwise needed to have his ass kicked.
He kept his palm on the softness of her belly. “I can’t wait to feel you clasp me tight inside you and cushion me with those gorgeous curves.” At his words, his cock pulsed against his jeans, demanding freedom. “Is that what you want too?”
She nodded, her eyes dilated with the same need riding him.
“Then you need to let me turn on the lights. I want to see all of you.”
She swallowed hard, her eyes wide. This was a defining moment. She’d stay or she’d say red. Everything inside him rebelled
at the possibility of losing her before he’d really had her.
“Lights?” he asked, easing off the bed and stepping closer to the panel on the wall.
A small nod.
“Then I need to hear you say it.”
She narrowed her gaze, and he appreciated the spunk he saw there.
“You can turn on the lights,” she said at last. He didn’t miss the wariness in her tone.
But he grinned. She had her issues—who didn’t?—but she had backbone, and he liked that about her.
“You won’t regret it.” He hit the switch and turned on the overheads, dimming them for mood but keeping the glow that would enable him to see her creamy skin. “You’re fucking perfect.”
She opened her mouth, probably to argue, and immediately closed it again. He liked a quick learner, not that he’d mind more punishment. His hand tingled at the thought, and his cock throbbed in agreement. He found it disconcerting to know he’d rather have her trust than the pleasure he found in the control of punishment.
He walked toward the bed, eased down beside her, gratified at the small inhale of breath as he leaned in close and smelled the sexy scent of her arousal.
One hand in her hair, he slid his lips along her jawline, inhaling her intoxicating light perfume, trailed a path down her neck, and settled in to nibble near her collarbone. He tasted the slightly salty tang of her skin before skimming his other hand up her side, cupping one beautifully full breast in his hand.
He ran a thumb over her nipple, feeling it peak even more beneath his touch. “Hungry?” he asked, massaging and tweaking the bud between two fingers.
“Starved,” she said, the word a drawn-out moan as she writhed on the bed, her hands pulling at the bindings he wouldn’t release.
“Then we should eat. But I wouldn’t want to ruin my clothes.”
Releasing her breast, he stood and began to undress, aware of her heated gaze watching him with definite approval as he pulled off his shirt. Reaching for the button on his jeans, he eased the zipper down, over his straining, aching erection.
She watched, eyes wide, dilated, mouth parted, and he found it damned arousing, especially when a soft moan escaped from the back of her throat.
“You see? Having the lights on isn’t just for me.” He reached down and took his cock in hand, pumping from base to head in long strokes.
Her eyes widened even more. “You’re a tease, Decklan Dare.”
He hadn’t been, before her. “You bring that out in me.”
A pleased smile lifted her lips.
He settled in beside her and picked up the bowl of ice cream. “Now we eat.”
FOUR
Amanda couldn’t say she’d had a man feed her before, never mind in bed while she was bound, but that’s what Decklan did.
He held out a spoonful for her to taste. “Open.”
She did as he asked and was rewarded with the most delicious cold treat on her tongue. There was something decadent about being tied up and taken care of. Something freeing. She wasn’t even focused on her body anymore. The hot look in his eyes had all but taken care of that.
“Oreo?” she asked, running her tongue along her lips.
His indigo gaze followed the movement. “Cookies and cream.” He fed her another bite.
“Mmm.”
“Good, huh?”
“You should try some,” she said.
A wicked gleam entered his eyes. “I think I will.”
Using his finger, he scooped up a dollop of the treat and traced a circle around her breasts, pausing to refresh the ice cream as he worked.
The coldness on her skin provided a delicious contrast with the fire inside her and the heat he generated with his large body alongside hers. He bracketed her on one side, captured her with his sensual assault on her body, lapping up the treat with slick licks of his tongue.
“Mmm.” Her nipples puckered and her clit throbbed, need piercing through her.
“Easy, baby. We’re just starting.” He reached for the chocolate syrup and drizzled it around her breasts and over her nipples.
She arched off the bed, writhing, her body seeking more, more, more. “Decklan, please.”
“Please what?” He leaned in, nuzzling her neck, nibbling her skin everywhere but where she needed his touch the most. “Tell me what you want,” he said in a dangerous voice.
She wanted his mouth on her nipples, desperately needed to feel him bite down and tug so hard she felt the pull deep in her sex. And she wanted his wicked tongue on her clit next.
But ask for those things? “I can’t.”
He gripped her chin and turned her face toward him. “You can. I’m not a mind reader, and if you want me to please you, you need to ask for what you want.”
She swiped her tongue over her lips and drew a deep breath. This was hard. But disappointing him wasn’t an option. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Taste my nipples.”
“Ask me again. And look at me when you do.”
He was a tough taskmaster, but he wasn’t asking for anything he didn’t want to give. He just wanted her trust.
She swallowed hard. Forced her heavy eyelids open. “Lick my nipples.”
He leaned down and licked her lightly, first one, then the other, the light whisper coming nowhere even close to what her body craved.
“See? All you have to do is ask. Trust me with your desires, and believe that I’ll give you what you need.” His gorgeous eyes darkened with his words, his words giving her the courage to give voice to her needs.
Arousal, urgency, and his implied promise made her brave. “Bite down. Suck harder. First my nipples, then I want you to…” She hesitated.
“Say it,” he commanded, his voice harsh and demanding.
She could do this. Had to or she wouldn’t get what she needed, and she needed him, his buff body and his erection pulsing against her hip. He was big, thick, and she shivered at the prospect of taking him inside her. Creamy desire coated her thighs.
He leaned over, his dark hair a heady contrast to her paler skin, and without warning, he bit down on one nipple. She moaned, the sharp sting of pain quickly morphing into pleasure. “Fuck me,” she cried out, arching her hips and begging him with her body.
“That I can do.”
He pushed up and levered over her, arms muscular, abs defined, and as she’d seen when he undressed, the cut leading down to his groin mouthwatering. Clearly the man worked out. And he smelled as good as he looked, everything inside her melting for him.
He dipped his head, cupped her breasts, and pushed the twin mounds together. She thanked God he hadn’t tied her legs, because she squeezed them tight, finding what little relief she could from the pulsating need. Without warning, he sucked one nipple into his mouth, running his tongue around the distended peak before tugging with his teeth, long and hard.
She tipped her head back and moaned, pulling at the restraints that bound her, the mixture of pleasure and pain arousing her beyond reason. He didn’t let up, licking, teasing, biting first one nipple then the other, pausing only to give the same treatment to the sensitive skin on and around each breast. With every tweak of a taut bud, her sex pulsed and throbbed.
She writhed beneath him, the sounds coming from her throat foreign to her own ears. “Decklan, please. Please, please, please.” Clearly she wasn’t above begging.
He reached over, yanked open a nightstand drawer, and pulled out a condom, opening the packet and sliding it on with shaking hands.
She reveled in the fact that she could bring this big man to the brink, wished she could wrap her arms around him, feel the corded muscles in his forearms and back. As aroused as she was by being bound, the desire to stroke and caress him was stronger.
He slid one finger between the creamy folds of her sex. “You ready to take me, baby?”
“Yes,” she said, the word coming out in a hiss. Her pussy clenched, an unsuccessful attempt to pull his finger inside her.
He was teasing her, t
ormenting her, and she couldn’t take it. “I want to feel you.” She pulled against the restraints. “Untie me, please.”
His eyes grew hooded at the request, but she wasn’t deterred, nor was she above begging.
“I need to stroke you, to touch you, to hold your cock in my hand.”
Decklan hung his head and groaned. Damn, but he was tempted to do as she asked. Tempted for the first time ever. Other women had asked him to release them, but none pulled at his emotions. None made him want the same thing, her hands on his body, her fingers stroking his cock. He normally needed the women he slept with restrained and under his control. But if Decklan knew one thing, it was that if she wrapped those arms around him and pulled him in emotionally, he was a goner.
He held back, unable to give in, not even for this one woman who made him want with a ferocity that was foreign to him. He didn’t miss the irony. He’d pushed her boundaries and she gave. She pushed his and he withdrew like a fucking coward.
“I … can’t,” he said and hoped she understood how deeply he meant it.
Silence punctuated the next few seconds, and once again, he wondered if she’d use her safe word and walk away. His heart hammered painfully in his chest, begging him to give in and warring with his mind that told him to lock down his emotions.
She ran one leg up and down his calf, touching him the only way she could. “Okay, but you’d better hurry up and fuck me,” she said lightly. A request he already knew wasn’t easy for her to make once, let alone a second time.
He breathed out a groan of relief. Yet with her acceptance, something warm and tangible passed between them. Something he didn’t want to examine too closely. He already knew she threatened his well-erected walls. He was just now learning how dangerous she would be.
He shook his head and refocused his attention. Gripped his cock in one hand and ran the length over the distended pearl of desire beckoning him. Back and forth, he teased her clit until her entire body trembled beneath him. Her arousal coated his erection, and suddenly he couldn’t wait another second.
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