“You can touch me, Angel.” He watches me through narrowed slits. “I won’t bite. Hard.” His grin broadens, his eyes twinkling.
“Is that your favorite line, Cowboy? I won’t bite hard.” I lay my palm over his wet chest rifling my fingertips through the crisp, thick mat of hair and then I slide my hands a couple inches lower running the tips of my fingers across each line of his abs counting as I go. His deep rumbling chuckle reverberates through my hands.
“Just making sure you’ve got ‘em all.” My voice comes out a little rusty like I hadn’t used it in a while. I tilt my head slightly to see his brown eyes haven’t left me. “Don’t wanna be cheated or anything.” My lips curl up in a smile.
“Oh don’t worry, Angel, I‘d rather cut off my right arm than cheat you out of a thing.”
My hand slid past his taut, flat stomach and I wrap hand around his cock, gripping it tightly. It’s long, hard, thick, andvelvety smooth against my palm. He lets out a groan.
“You’re supposed to be washing my back, Angel.” He grits his teeth tighter with each rough breath.
“Give me a minute.” My tongue pokes out as I concentrate on what I’m doing. I squeeze and he jerks against my hand. “I haven’t touched anything this nice in a long time.” I squeeze again and his hand comes up and grips my wrist stopping its movement.
“Angel,” he growls out.
My thumb moves in circles along the underside of his cock right below the ring at the base of the engorged head and he swells even bigger into my palm.
“You’re playing with fire, Angel.”
“Goody.”
“Not if you want me to fuck you tonight, Angel.” One finger at a time, he removes my hand from around his cock. “
I look up through my lashes. “That I do.”
“Then you better let go of my cock or it will be all over before we even get started.”
“That’s not very encouraging.”
“I told you I’ve been walking around with a fuckin’ hard-on for weeks and what little taste I’ve gotten isn’t enough. The sooner I get inside your hot, wet pussy, the sooner I’ll be in heaven on earth.”
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me before,” I say with my hand planted firmly at my hip.
“There goes that smart mouth again, Angel.”
I fix my eyes on his. “Watcha gonna do about it, Cowboy?”
He pushes me away and slides beneath the water scrubbing his hands over his face before standing and allowing the water to stream down his body before stepping onto the rug. Sliding his hands under my arm, he lifts me right in front of him. I moan in delight as his naked body is fully revealed once again with his cock jutting out nicely in front of his body.
“Towel?” He smirks.
I step back grabbing one of the many perfectly white oversized towels off the shelf and offer it to him with a shaky hand. My eyes are glued to him as he rubs the towel vigorously over his hair, swipes it over his body and then drops it on the floor with a flourish.
“Now where’s the bedroom, Angel?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
A lady should be a lady, and a gentleman a gentleman
The minute Cooper threads his fingers tightly through mine and pulls me out into the hall my heart starts beating frantically.
“Bedroom, Angel.”
I feel like I’m walking in a daze during the short time it takes to get to my room. I’m excited and nervous and unsure of what to expect. As soon as we enter my room I head straight to the night table on the left side of the bed and take out my soft black leather cuffs and ball gag. I stand there, head bowed, knowing all the while that he closely watches everything I do.
After a moment, he meanders over without a care in the world that he’s completely naked and picks up the leather cuffs. He runs his thumb over the soft fur lining before he says anything. “I’m impressed with your little setup.” He looks down at me as I blink up at him. My breath ragged in the quiet room.
He takes a step to stand right in front of me. “Angel?” His brows are drawn together.
My heart’s hammering in my chest and my legs are a bit unsteady, so I resort to counting in order to steady my nerves and my shaking limbs. “One, two, three…”
Everything’s different. It just feels—I don’t know—more.
“Focus, Angel’.” His voice comes out husky with a slight chuckle and he’s shaking his head from side to side as if in amusement. “This house is all white and pure and clean and then you open that drawer and pull out toys that would make some grown men blush.” He points towards the night table with his chin. “You’re such a conundrum.” He takes another step closer. “Angel to demon. Salvation and sin all rolled up in one delicious little package.” He gathers me closer with the front of his body touching the front of my body. Heat to heat. Skin to robe. I wish I was as naked as him.
“I don’t know if I want to lick you from head to toe or spank your ass until it glows red beneath my hand.” And with those words, his large hands rub and knead the soft flesh of my bottom beneath the thick material.
“Cowboy.” My forehead falls against his chest. “You’re embarrassing me.” There a definite tremor in my voice.
He lifts my chin, his lips quirked. “You walk around in garters and work in a fuckin’ fetish store messing with silicone cocks all day long, yet what I’m saying now embarrasses you?” His head shakes back and forth again.
“Yep,” I whisper, rubbing my cheek against the rough, yet soft at the same time, hair covering his chest. It feels deliciously decadent against my skin.
He dips, placing a kiss on the top of my head.
“Then why haven’t you done much about it?”
“Fuck, Angel.” He puffs out a big breath. “I knew you were going to be trouble when I first clapped eyes on you.” He mutters this under his breath. “You just got out of a hideous relationship, you were in a car accident that caused you injuries, and you’re being stalked by a fuckin’ dickhead.” His hand tightens around my nape and lifts until I stand up on my toes. “Should I go on?”
I shake my head.
He taps my lips.
“No,” my reply holds a distinct disgruntled hint to its tone.
“I’m here now.”
“Yep, you are,” I whisper.
He tosses a look over his shoulder to the top of the night table. “You want me to use that stuff?” His gaze is intense and intrigue is evident in his look.
My cheeks blush scarlet. I purse my lips and hesitate before answering. I don’t want to say the wrong thing. I want to please him, but I’m such a novice really and I don’t know for sure if he really wants the truth or not.
“Honesty, Angel.”
“Not really.”
The look he throws me is one of puzzlement. His eyes darken as he reaches around my body and lifts the gag off the table. “Then why do you have one of your own?” His soft lips pull into a tight line before he chucks it back on the night table and I shudder at the sound of the metal rings clanking when it hits the wooden surface.
“Nate wanted me to use it,” I answer honestly. “He didn’t like it when I made noises.” Then I look up at him with my brows furrowed. “You don’t want me to use it?”
“Not trying to get you riled, Angel, but Nate is a big dick. He’s a fuckin’ idiot.” He presses closer. “I don’t give a fuck what sounds you make when I’m fuckin’ you. ‘Cause I’m going to fuck you hard and if you can hold that shit in, I must be doing something terribly wrong.”
I suck in a deep breath, then swallow audibly. I’m rooted to the spot as heat suffices my entire body in a wonderful glow. I have no verbal response to that, but my body sure does. It gushes.
“Laugh, cry, moan, scream, or all of the above.” Another press even closer and I hold my breath while I edge back against the night table. “As long as the sounds are all indicators that I’m making you feel an ungodly amount of intense pleasure, I don’t give a fuck,” he
adds bluntly. His hand slides back around my neck gripping my nape. “Only a goddamned fool would want to muffle those beautiful sounds.”
Beautiful hungry eyes roam my face as he works his thumb into the base of my skull massaging in slow delicious circles and I groan, long and low.
“Yeah, just like that baby,” he answers with the distinctive purr of male pleasure rumbling low in his voice. He presses his lips to mine. His tongue traces over the seam of my mouth until my tongue peeps out timidly to meet his, tasting his unique flavor.
He lifts his mouth to hover just over my lips. “I’ll blindfold you if you want, so all you need to do is hear and feel.” And boy do I hear and feel his sexy, throaty voice. Fire sweeps through my veins and my breath snags.
A slow, easy smile spreads over his face that borders on arrogance. He reaches between our bodies slowly releasing the tie on my robe and pulls it loose. I gape at him as he twists the thick tie loosely around his fists before covering my eyes and tying it at the back of my head.
“Cowboy?” I barely get his nickname out before he releases my wrists, pushes the robe from my shoulders, and lets it pool at my feet. I stand there naked, eyes covered, and feel the blush spread over my cheeks as he holds my wrists high above my head in one of his large hands. I whimper nervously. My blush heats even hotter at the notion that I can’t cover my nakedness.
“I may not want to collar you and make you my slave, Angel, but I’ll cuff you so that I can do whatever the hell I want to your sweet little body and you can’t do a damn thing about it but let me.” With his other hand, he fastens my Velcro cuffs around my right wrist. He repeats the task with my left and drags both in front of my stomach before clipping them together.
The sound of the clip is heightened due to my impaired vision. “Hey,” I cry out but it’s weak and half-hearted even to my own ears because I really don’t want him to stop. I jerk against the restraints, fear and anticipation warring. I’m not in pain, but the light bondage does something to my body. It turns me into a furnace of blazing heat and ultra-sensitive flesh.
Cooper rubs his hands up and down my arms until I relax into him. He turns me so I stand with my back pressed against his front. “I don’t want you to scream from pain but from pleasure.” His hands cross my body splaying against the soft curve of my belly, once again playing with my navel. I go limp against his chest. His arms are the only things that keep me upright. My eyes drift closed and I surrender to the feel of his callused hands on my body.
“Do you need me to take the control away so you don’t have to think?”
I tilt my head back and lay it against his shoulder as I consider his question.
“Do you need me to make everything go away except here and now?” His fingers stroke over my belly. His voice beckons to my soul. Beseeching me to let go. To give up control. To experience all that I can experience.
“I will.” His voice deep and gravelly as one hand works its way down to slide his fingers between my thighs playing through my folds slick with desire and my flesh clenches with his invasion, then softens allowing him full access.
“You want to walk off the edge with me, just ask, Angel.” He moves my hair aside and I feel the roughness of his whiskers as he kisses my jaw, nuzzles my neck, nibbling and licking down my throat to where my pulse flutters madly beneath his lips. My whole body hums as he cups one breast. I shiver. “All you need to do is ask.”
I don’t hesitate. “I’m asking.”
He growls softly from behind, lifting with his hands beneath my knees, peeling back the comforter before tossing me onto the bed. I giggle nervously when I bounce a couple of times unable to steady myself with my hands cuffed at my stomach.
The bed dips and then the warmth of his body’s next to mine. His hand touches my face in a gentle caress, straightening the ties around my eyes. “Now when we’re in this kind of situation, you’ll call me Sir. The rest of the time it’s just Cowboy and Angel. Got me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He gives a low murmur of approval before he kisses me long and lingering. “In the short amount of time that I’ve known you, you’ve crawled under my skin.” His hand ghosts over my body, its heat like an imprint. Then his hands are on the cuffs and he releases the catch holding them together. “I’m going to see how deep I can get you.”
A new rush of moisture coats my thighs.
“Hands above your head.”
I immediately lift them until my fingers graze the wrought iron metal bars of my headboard. Then there’s the sound of the snick of the cuffs being connected again. I hear the wisp of silk as it’s threaded through the bars and brushes softly against my wrists when he loops it around the clasp and secures it to the bed. The silky cool texture is immensely erotic against my skin as I relax into its silky web.
“How’s that, Angel?” His voice rasps over me like velvet. His hands skim down my arms until they rest at the sides of my breasts. His thumbs dangerously close to my painfully turgid nipples.
“Fine, Sir,” I whisper. The scarf loose enough that I can move my arms slightly, but not where I can touch him.
“How about we come up with another word to describe how you’re feeling?”
“Um…”
“How about I give you something to think about.” His fingers circle my nipple. Round and round but not touching the pebbled bud. I arch my back, my heels digging into the mattress in an attempt to feel, to force his fingers to touch my peaked flesh. The sting of his palm landing against my outer thigh shocks me, then sends waves of arousal through my body to gather at my clit. And it throbs. And I’m still unable to come up with a better word. My mind’s blank.
“Um…”
The heat increases in my body as Cooper looms up over me, then glides down my center. His tongue leaves a wet trail to my navel, then he skips all the good parts so that his right hand circles my left ankle holding it in place. “Do I need to bind your ankles, Angel, to take away all of your control?”
I shake my head and immediately cry out, “No, Sir,” I shriek, kicking out my foot, but unable to dislodge my ankle from his hold.
“Good girl.” His fingers play with the delicate bones in my ankle, then move to my feet. “I like it when you use words to tell me what you want or feel or need.” He presses into my arch eliciting a deep groan from my throat. I sigh in immense pleasure as his massage continues. “How does that feel?”
“Fi…” I bite back my rote answer and Cooper’s chuckle fills the room.
“Angel, Angel.” The smile obvious in his voice, his hands move down to my toes and he gently massages each one individually as he waits. Soft squeezes, then gentle tugs before he moves on to the next. I lay there, my mind blank as the splendid sensations of his hands touch my body rendering my brain useless.
“Do you need help coming up with some other adjectives?” he asks in that deep voice of his.
“Yes, Sir.”
“I appreciate your honesty, Angel. It pleases me.” His hands curve around the arch of my foot squeezing and I moan. His thumb kneads over the arch of my foot and I squeak out a cry when his touch tickles. I squirm trying to get away from him.
“Ah…I found a weakness.” His voice drops an octave growing even more gravelly.
“Please don’t.” I swallow. “I hate being tickled.
“Good to know.” And he proceeds to tickle the arch of my foot some more.
“Cowboy!” I jerk against his hold.
“Angel!” he mocks. He lifts my left foot off the bed and nips at the soft pad of my big toe.
“Hmmm…”
“Satisfactory, acceptable, nice, excellent, delicious, magnificent, wonderful, brilliant, glorious,” he lists each word, stated between nips at the tender pads of my toes. His hand continues with its brilliant massage and my body melts deeper into the mattress. I don’t know how that’s even possible. I lay silent for several seconds, my lips parting as I release shallow panting breaths. Sweat pools above my upper lip and
my heart rate increases exponentially.
Silly really.
All I have to do is describe how I feel. Really describe it instead of the perfunctory answers that most expect because they really don’t care anyway. Cooper cares. He wants me to be honest with myself and with others. Especially him.
“Your power comes from understanding yourself completely, Angel.” Suddenly his hand leaves my body and I still. “Knowing how you feel and how you want to feel. Knowing what gives you pleasure and what doesn’t.”
I swallow thickly, squeezing my eyes shut beneath the blindfold. “Cowboy?” I work at steadying my breath and calming down so I begin counting in my head. One. Two. Three…
“Angel?”
“Yes, Sir?” I barely squeeze the words past pants of breath.
“How do you feel now?” My heart beat calms. He’s right here. His breath is mere millimeters from my ear, his goatee brushing softly against my cheek as he speaks. “Do you feel fine now, Angel?”
I shake my head and he gently taps my lips with his finger. I grit my teeth. He chuckles. I swallow deeply. “No, Sir.” The words barely croak past my lips.
“Is bottling up how you truly feel worth the risk of never experiencing pure pleasure and a deeper relationship?”
“No, Sir.” My cheeks flush with heat because of the overwhelming battle that’s waging in my mind.
“How do you feel?”
I can feel the heat of his stare even though I can’t see his eyes. I know he waits patiently for me to decide. To dig deep and uncover all that I’ve wrapped in long held polite southern responses. I still can’t figure out why it’s so hard for me to be real with how I feel even with myself. To be honest rather than just say bless your heart?
My heart thuds almost painfully against my ribcage and with effort I force the words past my lips. “Miserable, Sir.” With his hands no longer on my body I feel dark, dejected, cold, then the roughness of his palm slides beneath my neck and grips my nape. With his other hand he cradles my face, caressing my cheek with his thumb.
When You Only Need To Ask (The House of Sin: The Beginning) Page 28
