When You Only Need To Ask (The House of Sin: The Beginning)

by Hadleigh Stephens

  His hands run along my back, tracing the curve of my spine. A shiver courses down my back as his hand grips the nape of my neck, holding me in place for his plundering mouth. Dominating me with his lips, showing me what I have to look forward to if I agree. Liquid heat rushes through my veins like a flash flood releasing any final shreds of nervousness that were holding me hostage and opening me up to feelings I’ve fought for far too long.

  I groan loudly, finally softening under him and submit. When his tongue flicks over my lips I can’t help but open, allowing him to deepen the kiss. His tongue plunges into my depths swiping against mine, tangling and dueling. Everything he does steals my breath and our groans echo into each other’s mouths.

  My groan turns into a whimper when he pulls back. My tongue slicks over my swollen lips and I exhale loudly, worry lines etched between my brows.

  “You don’t need to worry about jack, Angel.” His hand’s still a fixture around my nape, his thumb rubbing deliciously under my ear in relaxing little circles that make any remaining fears turn tail and run as desire takes its place. His mouth curves into a smile. “Good girl.”

  I soften under his praise, arching into him as his hand continues with its sensual massage.

  “There are any number of women who will give up who they are to do whatever a man wants.” He shakes his head. “If that’s what the man wants, more power to him.” He stares at me intently. “I want a woman, not a slave,” he reiterates leaning in to kiss me again, hard. His need is more than evident in his firm capture of my lips.

  I give a shaky little smile against his lips. “Cooper.” His name whispers against his mouth like a reverent prayer.

  “And you are definitely a real woman, Angel.” His mouth tilts into a crooked grin against mine. “I saw you with Nate. You’re a fighter.” He presses into me, his body heavy and hard, deliciously warm. His hand tightens around my nape and my head lolls back against his strength giving him what I’m afraid to express with words.

  Power.

  Power over my body and over my pleasure.

  “I’m afraid to give up control again.” My eyes close as the words pass almost sneakily past my lips. I don’t want to see the disappointment that’s sure to be reflected in his eyes at my words. Men don’t like that. They don’t want to know your fears. They just want a woman to lie down, spread her legs so they can get what they want. At least that’s what I’ve gathered from my limited experiences in the past and the one ill-fated trip to the wild-side that left me battered, bruised, and ultimately skittish.

  “You control everything, sweetheart.” Another shiver races down my spine as genuine concern laces his voice. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you." His arms tighten around me.

  I blink up at him. "That doesn’t make sense.” I swallow, wetting my throat before I say almost sarcastically, “For instance, if I tell you to tie me down, how does that give me control?"

  “Because if you tell me to stop, I have to.”

  I snort.

  “Angel, you’ve obviously been with a bunch of pricks and that’s a tragedy.” He circles my wrist, dragging my hand from where it lay and presses it firmly to the front of his jeans. The engorged thickness of his cock is unmistakable. Its heat burns my palm even through the worn thickness of the denim. “A true man wouldn’t want to separate you from your true spirit. He would relish it and use it to his advantage. Wild is good, Angel. Feisty is damn good, Angel. You can go buck wild with me and I’ll savor every second.”

  I’m certain I can’t breathe, at least not for a full minute. His words floor me. Make me dream big. I meet his stare.

  “I’ve been a walking hard-on since that kiss in the hospital. Whatever I need, you’ve got it and I for one want to explore it.”

  “You sure don’t mince words, do you, Cowboy.”

  His gaze locks with mine and he grins that sexy grin that makes my body throb. “Life’s short, Angel.” His eyebrows lift suggestively.

  My tongue darts out between my lips. “I can attest to that.” I thought of my close call a little over a week ago.

  “I feel like a prick for taking advantage of your weakness. I know I can be a prick every once in a while, sweetheart, I’m a man after all.” He flashes a shit-eating grin as his eyes follow the movements of my hand against his bulging groin. “But that’s what you want, isn’t it, Angel?” The gravelly rumble of his voice vibrates down to my toes and they curl. His eyes move back up to meet my heavy-lidded gaze. “A man?”

  I look at him through my lashes, my tongue flicks out to wet my lips. His hand slides over my hip to cup my bottom, pressing me close, letting me feel the ridge of his erection against my sex. My eyes drift closed.

  “Angel we have to work on your verbal skills.” My eyes flutter open to see the open amusement glimmering in his eyes. “I need your verbal acknowledgement that you get what I’m saying.”

  “Y-Y-Y…” The word sticks in my dry as dust throat, so I swallow. Then I take a shot at it again. “Y-Y-Yes.”

  “The sound of your voice has caused me a great deal of agony over the past week,” he murmurs, looking pained all of a sudden and my gut clenches. “I’ve jerked off more in the last eight days than in the past year.”

  I gasp and my eyes fly open wide.

  Narrowing his brown eyes, he meets my intent look. “Have you touched yourself thinking of me, Angel?”

  His gaze burns a trail down my body and I squirm and just know I’ve turned an ungodly shade of pink. “I-I-I…umm…” I’ve never had a guy ask me if I’d touched myself before because of him. How do I answer something like that?

  “You don’t have to answer me.” His deep voice flows over me alleviating some of my embarrassment and I let out a deep, relieved sigh. “All I need to do is look into your eyes and I know exactly what you’re feeling because I feel the same.”

  I release a heavy breath, my gaze brushing down his hard body to the thick ridge behind his zipper that I’ve so recently felt with my own two hands. Closing my eyes again, I manage another deep breath as my core temperature notches up several more degrees and the liquid heat of my body rushes in fast running rivulets like a flood after a storm.

  “Do you want me, Angel?” His eyes wide and serious, his tone low and intimate takes me by surprise as his breath spills over my face.

  I meet his gaze and put my hands on his thighs. “I don’t know you.” I murmur lamely. God, I’m definitely an idiot. Really? The hottest guy on the planet asks me, ‘Do you want me?’ And all I can come up with is, ‘I don’t know you?’

  “You know me.” His brow furrows causing a deep V to form, then they smooth almost immediately. “I’ve got my answer, Angel.” His hand grips my neck. “I smell your arousal and it matches my own.”

  I snicker. “I had no idea that men outside of bodice-ripper romance novels really said stuff like that?”

  His finger runs from my cheek, down my neck, across the tops of my breasts pausing in his exploration. “I’m not going to fuck you tonight, Angel, but I am going to make you feel good. Better than you’ve felt in a long time. Better than Nate ever could have imagined in his wildest dreams of making you feel and better than you think you deserve.”

  With those words, my body roars to life and it rumbles waiting for him to let go of the throttle. “Cooper.” My eyes flutter closed and I groan. His confidence alone is enough to make me come. The tenor of his voice. The rasp of his goatee. The idea alone. God, I must be desperate for a magnificent orgasm because I have no intention of fighting any longer.

  He smiles. Another one of his sexy, shit-eating grins and with a husky groan that mirrors the desire of my own, his mouth smashes against mine. His lips move and his tongue drives between mine in a powerful stroke and the velvety softness of his tongue drives me mad as he thoroughly explores the heat of my mouth. I don’t pull away, but offer my mouth willingly and open. His tongue slides in and out, sweeping everywhere, probing, learning everything.

 
I wriggle and whimper as his large hands cup my breasts through my shirt capturing my zealous nipples. They bead tightly between his fingers and thumbs.

  His tongue searches deeply at the same time he rolls my nipples into tight points. They peak painfully as he controls my mouth and my breasts. Exquisite, unexpected torture floods my pussy with more of my heated cream as his hands move greedily over my breasts, my nipples growing extremely sensitive with each tug making me hotter than ever.

  He groans, deep and savage before tearing his mouth from mine. His breath ragged as he stares down at me.

  I lift my arms and wrap them around his neck dragging him back to plant a hot, quick kiss on his lips before my tongue delves into his heat. My tongue wraps around his sucking it deep. I try to concentrate on anything other than his callused hands moving over my skin, their rough surface abrading my flesh and I curse my lack of control when he pushes my shirt up and I let him.

  This time I break the kiss, but only so that I can raise my arms giving him the opportunity to yank my shirt over my head. Even though intense heat resonates off his body, the cool air of the room puckers my nipples even more and I cry out. His eyes lift and he looks at me. Really looks at me.

  “You good, Angel?”

  I groan. “I’m fine, Cowboy.”

  His lips curl and his eyes crinkle making sexy little white lines at the corners. I love ‘em. They show his humor. A true sign of his kindness. A sign that he’s able to find reasons to smile in life which seems to be rare.

  “My Angel’s always fine.” He presses a hot, hard, yet quick kiss to my mouth. “We’re going to have to work at expanding your vocabulary.”

  “I’d be even better if you’d get on with it.” I want to laugh, but I can’t as he covers both my breasts with his large hands, stroking the ruched nipples with his thumbs. I don’t even pretend to bite down on the moan that erupts from my lips this time.

  I release it.

  I relish it.

  I embrace it.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  My head falls back against the arm of the sofa as sensation after sensation zooms through me. My next moan escapes even louder as his mouth settles over my nipple and he sucks hard. He nips lightly on the distended tip, sucking it hard against the roof of his mouth and tapping it with his tongue at the same time.

  Delicious, rasping, pleasurable pain.

  My breath quickens. My body jerks. My hips thrust up off the soft sofa as shoots of pleasure arrow directly to my clit sparking every nerve in my body on their way. I tunnel my fingers into his hair and hold his head tight against my body force feeding him my breast as he feasts hungrily on my soft flesh. His mouth surrounds, sucking without mercy, demanding until my nipples point proudly, plump, and red to the ceiling.

  “Damn, Angel.” His guttural groan vibrates against my breast. “How do you feel now?” His flat tongue laps in slow swipes as he waits for my response. I feel the heat of his gaze as he studies me over the swell of my breasts, but I know that isn’t the feeling he’s talking about. His mouth turns up in a lazy smile as he keeps up the light little nips on my nipple just hard enough to elicit another sensual groan.

  I wet my lips, my breathing fast. “Fine.”

  “I’ve got my work cut out for me.” His eyes dance as he declares loudly. “You should be feeling a lot more than fine right about now.” With gentle force against my belly, mindful of my ribs, he pushes me back against the arm of the sofa. His lips clamp down on one distended peak and I draw in a sharp breath as he suckles. The pressure almost unbearable, then he releases the bud lapping at it with the wide, flattened, rough surface of his tongue scraping over my sensitive flesh. My hips roll impatiently as his mouth and tongue work frantically.

  My nails dig into his scalp, my breathing turns erratic, and I can no longer control the quiver of my body at his touch. “Clothes,” I gasp out. “I want to feel you too.”

  To my frustration, a look of amusement flashes in his eyes. “In good time.” He slides up my body, making loud, wet noises as his lips trail in slow nibbling kisses from my breasts to the hollow of my throat. Up over my jaw until he kisses my mouth slowly, thoroughly, plunging his tongue deep, palming a breast, rubbing his calloused palm over the protruding nub releasing a well-satisfied rumble.

  His hands skim down my body stopping at my ribcage. His stark eyes scan my flesh as they follow the lines and faded bruises still visible on my skin. My breath stops as he leans down and kisses the discernible damage that remains. His hands brush over my skin and pause once they reach my belly. Bending down, he flicks the pointed tip of his tongue into the indention leaving a wet circle around my navel.

  I lower my eyes down my body and watch as he plays with my bellybutton. He circles the indention with his tongue in an erotic spiral. Oh, God. I arch against the feel of his wet mouth on my belly as jolts of pleasure travel to my clit. I gasp and the wicked look on his face enlightens me to the fact that he feels every single one.

  “When I first met you, other than the handcuffs you looked like a prim little school teacher in your white button down shirt and your little sweater.” His eyes glitter. “All except for the shoes.” He winks. “Those were some fuckin’ sexy shoes, Angel.”

  “Honestly, Cowboy?” I moan out a giggle. “You want to freakin’ talk about my shoes? I’m freakin’ dyin’ here.” I drawl out the words on panting breaths.

  His tongue swirls around my navel once again. “Like that part of you.” He pins me with a hot look. “Fuckin’ like it. Means somewhere deep down inside you’re a bad girl.” His voice gets rough.

  My eyes open wide at that, then lower back to half-mast, my nose wrinkles, and disappointment courses through my body as he moves away, leaving me practically naked and alone. "I'm as far away from a bad girl as you can possibly get." I know I’m basically challenging him with that comment and he takes me up on it wholeheartedly.

  “Is that right, sweetheart?” His hands grip me around the waist. His thumbs almost touching where they lay below my navel. He lowers his mouth to a hair’s-breadth away from my body. His hot breath scorches the tender flesh of my belly with each exhale, tickling my skin when he speaks. “I’m going to remove your jeans now, Angel,” he grates out, pressing hot kisses around my navel.

  My back bows as his hot tongue sinks into the sensitive dip of my belly button and I surge up off the arm of the sofa with a plea for more. “Cowboy,” I whimper, my eyes narrowing, then to be a brat I add, “I didn’t think guys like you asked for permission?”

  His dimples pop. His expression soft, but steely determination glints in the dark recesses of his eyes worrying me. His fingers caress my belly as he speaks in a conciliatory tone. “I won’t hurt you, Kimberly.”

  It’s hearing him speak my name that jolts my brain out of its mini sulk and brings me back to the present. I lay there feeling like I’m watching something happening to someone else other than the sensory overload that’s overwhelming my brain and his use of my name reminds me it’s okay to feel. Okay to take part. Okay to forget all the crappiness of the past.

  “I’m a very patient man. Just ask my momma.”

  I chuckle at his momma reference. “I believe I’ll leave your momma out of this.” I swirl my finger around in a big circle encompassing us both.

  “Probably a good thing.”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “If you don’t willingly give it to me, Angel, I guess it will be back to me and my hand a tad longer.” His gaze locks and the air crackles with our chemistry. “I won’t die.” He lifts his dark eyes to the ceiling and back with a rueful grin. “I’ll be aching. Sorely disappointed. And extremely uncomfortable for a while, but I won’t die. And I won’t be mad at you at least not forever.”

  A laugh bursts from my throat when his eyes swiftly lower to the fly of his jeans and back to mine and his full lips purse out in a delicious pout that on any other man would probably look effeminate, but on him it only enhances his masculinity.r />
  “But unfortunately as past experience has taught.” He shrugs, looking pained. “I’ll live.” Then I swear I hear him mutter under his breath. “Barely.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to fuck me tonight anyway, Cowboy.” I can’t help but toss out a smile. “You’re just gonna bathe me in endless amounts of pleasure.” My chin notching up challengingly.

  “I’m not going to fuck you. Yet.” An amused smile plays on his lips. “And I am going to bathe you in endless amounts of pleasure. Now.”

  “If you’re so concerned with whether I can handle it or not, why don’t you head on back to the club?” I tense, ready to get defensive even though I know I’m the one being an ass. “Plenty of willing women there to relieve your so-called ache.” I want to kick myself when I hear the words fly out on a desperate wobble.

  “Your sarcastic defense mechanism is not working, Angel.” He places a tender kiss just above the button on my jeans, then touches the tip of my nose, his eyes serious, yet full of passion and determination. “I know where you’re going with that question. We’ll talk about that some other time.” His voice drops to an impossibly low rumble that resonates throughout my body. “Unfortunately my body agrees with my brain. It only stands at attention for you.”

  “I’m too skinny,” I add just to be antagonistic and just in case my skeletal physique bothers him.

  “Not working.” His hands trace over my ribs, down my belly to rest at the waistband of my jeans again. “Nothing a few more dumplings won’t take care of.” He reaches behind him snagging a dumpling with his fingers and holds it to my mouth. I stare at him looking a little uneasy, roll my eyes, but take a bite. He stays where he’s at and once again waits patiently for me to finish chewing and swallowing.