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Her Claim: Legally Bound Book 2

Page 11

by Rebecca Grace Allen


  “You don’t call the shots,” he whispered, menacing and delicious. The gravelly sound of sex in his voice was mesmerizing.

  “No?” she breathed.

  “No. Put your other hand behind you.”

  Willing to play his dangerous game, she did as she was told. Patrick locked one hand around both her wrists, slipping his other one beneath the elastic of her panties to tease his middle finger along the length of her slit.

  Cassie’s head knocked back against the wall on a curse.

  “Now, if I’m understanding you correctly, you don’t want to be touched at all here?”

  A single, gentle rub had her hips bucking. “Maybe not at all.”

  She didn’t want him relying on it, attacking it with the heavy-handedness she’d experienced with other lovers. But that already wasn’t the case. He made a slow circle with his finger while grasping her wrists more tightly, and the contrasting sensations had her mouth dropping open.

  “No, no.” Patrick was practically gleeful. “You wanted to come without your clit rubbed.”

  He switched to tiny up-and-down motions, then back to circles again. A filthy noise of pleasure escaped her as she arched toward him. Each shift hit her differently—the former she could feel deep inside, the latter bringing the kind of intense pleasure that would speed her toward orgasm. It was difficult to stand like this, especially in three-inch heels, but she spread her legs wider anyway, inviting him in.

  He stopped, cruelly and abruptly. Cassie groaned, then panted at the ache that throbbed through her. It felt good in a bad way and bad in a good way, leaving her breathless and confused as she always was over the things she liked and wanted.

  “I hate you,” she said.

  He chuckled, his eyes going dark as he let her waistband snap back against her belly. “You might, by the time I’m finished with you. But that was your condition for accepting my offer, and I intend to comply with it.”

  God, he looked so good. So sexy when he was taunting her and being just shy of rude.

  “Then comply, you pain in the ass.”

  “Pain in the ass, huh?” he asked. “We can do that too.”

  Excitement shivered through her. “Good to know.”

  She’d never experimented with back-door play before, but she didn’t want to share her lack of experience now. She’d let him find that button and push it harder too.

  He released her hands, and Cassie lunged for him, wrenching his vest and shirt off as soon as the buttons had been freed. She spread her hands over the wide expanse of his chest and down to the sinful V of his hip muscles, drinking in the feel of him. He let her play for a minute, then unclasped her bra, tossing it and peeling her panties off next. Undoing his belt and zipper, Cassie dragged his pants down, moving to the floor along with them. Black boxer briefs outlined the shape of his erection, and she leaned in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to where his tip met the cotton.

  Patrick grunted, then twisted his fingers in her hair, tugging her off him. “Oh, no you don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you know damn well how good you are. And that’s not how I want to come tonight.”

  He yanked her to her feet. Cassie gasped in surprise as he hoisted her up like she weighed nothing, strong hands cupping her ass. Now that it was no longer a shock to see how burly he was, she reveled in it, indulging in her fantasy. The power in his arms proved he was physically capable of taking her with force, if he wanted to. She knew she shouldn’t want that, but her body rushed with a giddy pleasure anyway, her brain flooding with a high she could hardly process as anticipation twisted through her with a little spark of fear.

  He kissed her again, kicking off his pants and shoes, and she wrapped her legs around him. He walked them toward his bedroom, and the world went sideways as Patrick laid her down on his bed. He bracketed her body with his palms and kissed down her neck, her collarbone, between her breasts. His beard scratched over her belly, and once again she was lifting her hips toward him as he kissed her inner thigh, then bit lightly. Cassie jolted off the bed, whining in protest when he avoided her clit and repeated the action on her other leg.

  “Poor little princess,” he said underneath the heated press of his mouth. “Dishes out an order, then can’t live with the consequences.”

  He moved down to her feet, and everything slowed as he undid the bow on her left ankle. She watched in awe as he took that shoe off, stroked a finger over her bare heel and then undid the bow on the other. He handled her with such delicate care, she couldn’t believe he’d thrown her against a wall moments before. He seemed to be taking her in as he did it too. Studying her.

  He made her feel beautiful.

  She’d fallen into that trap before—seeing infatuation where there was only lust, dropping her guard for guys who were too weak to handle her and jumped ship at the first sign of her inclement seas. How many other women had felt this way after making it into the elusive Patrick Dunham’s bed, only to be shown the door after?

  “Is this part of your game?”

  Patrick jerked his head up, his brow lined with concern. “What do you mean?”

  I mean I don’t know how to trust you. Or anyone.

  But mostly you.

  “Making me feel wanted. Are you still just showing me how you seduce?”

  He crawled up her body and hovered over her. His nose to her nose. His forehead touching hers, chest hair scraping lightly over her nipples, arms thick and ropy on either side of her. His body was a prison holding hers captive, but she’d never felt so safe.

  “This isn’t seduction anymore. This is you and me, two people who’ve wanted each other for a long time. Let me prove it to you, now.”

  He claimed her mouth, gentle and soft, his kiss an apology and a promise wrapped up in one. Cassie’s palms found a home on his lower back, urging him toward her until his thighs were nestled between hers. He still had his briefs on, and the fabric dragged along her already sensitive clit.

  He hummed at her shiver. “I want you.”

  “So take me.”

  Rocking against her once more, he pulled back, then hoisted her up with his hands on her hips, manipulating her onto her hands and knees.

  “Doggie style?” she asked. “Classy.”

  He reached to the side with one arm, and Cassie heard the sound of a drawer opening, then the noise of a foil wrapper. “Someone laid a gauntlet down for me. Fulfilling her request means a deeper angle is required.”

  “Dangerous, giving away your trade secrets. I might use them against you.”

  She peeked over her shoulder as the mattress bowed with his movements. He tossed his briefs to the side, then ripped open the condom’s packaging and rolled it on.

  “I’ll take my chances.” He knelt behind her, and then Cassie was tipping forward, her hands clenching the pillows as he pumped her slowly with one finger, then two. “You must really dislike me tonight. You’re sopping wet.”

  She would’ve found something sarcastic to say in response, but then Patrick tipped his fingers upward, thrusting faster. Cassie groaned as her body obeyed the demanding plunges inside her, wetness spilling down her thighs.

  “There you go again. Drenching the sheets.”

  She buried her face in a pillow, trying to stifle her noises. “Fuck…please…”

  “I like it when you beg,” he said huskily.

  He worked her harder, and she whined, shocked at her involuntary response to his touch. Patrick slowed his strokes. “Does it bother you, getting so wet you can’t control it?”

  She nodded, then shook her head. She didn’t know how to explain how it made her feel—her body reacting without her control. Messy and dripping, even when she didn’t want to be. She felt like an object. Just a body.

  “I love it.”

  “Fuck.” His whispered curse rushed through her, a pulse of heat, his arousal to her response as reflexive as her own. Patrick slipped his fingers free, then eased inside her, and Cassie
tensed up and relaxed all at once with the sensation of him filling her.

  “You feel amazing,” he said, his voice hoarse. “So goddamn good.”

  Cassie moaned as he withdrew and surged into her again. Each retreat and thrust was slow, controlled, making her feel every thick, hard inch. One of his hands went beneath her to her belly.

  “Like this.” He lifted her slightly, changing the angle. Cassie whimpered in surprised pleasure as he hit a deeper spot. Her toes curled, her nipples going tight as she rode the new waves of bliss.

  Patrick bent over her and kissed her spine. “Feel good?”

  She nodded, unable to manage more than that. Holy Christ, he knew what he was doing. He took her hands and placed them one at a time on the headboard.

  “How about like this?” he asked, then picked up his pace.

  Cassie’s arms quivered, her eyes flying open as she gripped the wooden slats. The quick, shallow thrusts hit a new spot that made her gasp. Every time his cock ran over that sensitive area, it triggered a phantom orgasm—an explosive, about-to-come feeling, as if he were stroking her clit from the inside.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged.

  “Don’t stop what?” He took her hands and helped her back down again, returning to the same position they’d begun in, his thrusts smooth, deep and purposeful. “This?”

  “Yes. Fuck.”

  Once again, his palm found her tummy, lifting her up. “Or this?”

  “That. Both. Jesus, I don’t know.”

  She rutted against him, not wanting to think about how he’d gotten this talented in bed. Not wanting to think about anything but what he was doing to her, and how incredible it felt.

  Patrick brushed his thumb over her back entrance. “I could do this too.”

  Cassie pinched her eyes shut, her thighs and shoulders shaking at the new and foreign feeling. She didn’t know if she was ready for that yet, but she was enjoying this too much to say no. And wasn’t that one of the things she secretly craved? To be brought somewhere she wasn’t sure she wanted, then forced to take the pleasure when she got there?

  “Don’t know. Just—” Her words broke on a moan as he coaxed another shiver from her.

  “Gonna come for me?”

  She shook her head, but she was closer than she’d ever been without a finger between her legs.

  “You sure you don’t want that sweet, soft clit of yours rubbed?”

  Cassie grunted and trembled. The thought of how good it would feel if she did touch it, if he touched it, how strong those sensations would be, how quickly she would come…

  “No, you’ve gotta—fuck.” Her words dropped off when he stopped rubbing her back entrance and lifted her up once again, placing her hands on the headboard. “You’ve gotta prove you can do it.” She was going to hold out if it killed her, despite how badly that swollen spot was begging for attention.

  “Is that what you want?” Patrick asked. “Denial?”

  He was always asking what she wanted. As if it were easy for her to say. “You might be giving your secrets away. But I…ohh…don’t have to do the same.”

  His soft chuckle made the hairs on her neck stand up. “Then I’ll—have to—guess.”

  She loved those little pauses, the breaks in his stride, pleasure clouding his words as he tortured her. Tortured them both. He was so deep inside he was barely moving, fucking her with short, staccato pulses. A dull pain throbbed through her as those not-quite-there strokes once again shocked her from the inside out. Being strung out on the edge like this was torment.

  A torment she wanted relief from, and never wanted to have end.

  “I don’t think you want to come without being touched,” Patrick continued. “You want to be brought to the point that you’re so close to coming, all it would take is a few quick strokes and you’re done for.”

  Was that what she wanted? Maybe that was part of it, but not all. The thrill was missing. The fight, the sliver of fear. But as he helped her down to her elbows again, fucking her faster, the ability to reach rational thought escaped her.

  “Am I right?” he asked through labored breaths. “You want to be so worked up, you barely need to be touched until the last second.”

  Did he know that second was here? She was teetering so close to the brink that one swift touch would destroy her. “I’m there. Please touch me.”

  “Does that mean I’ve proven myself?”

  She clutched the sheets, sweating. Desperate. “Yes—ugh, you have. Just, please. Please.”

  She would’ve done it herself, but she wanted it from him. For Patrick to be the reason she fell apart.

  He slid one hand beneath her. Cassie’s breathing turned rapid, heart fluttering in anticipation until his finger finally, finally met the tip of her clit. She cried out, her body jerking beyond her control, her whole focus on that one pinpoint of contact as he swirled and pressed. She had seconds to enjoy the fierce crush of pleasure before her orgasm barreled through her.

  He never let up as she thrashed, wringing every ounce of her climax from her shaking body. She put a hand over his to stop him, unable to take any more, and then his hands found her hips, fingers digging in as he took her harder, faster, until—

  “Cassie, shit…I’m gonna…fuck.”

  His thrusts slowed, and he shuddered and groaned through his release. When he drew back, Cassie slumped against the mattress and turned on her side. Patrick disposed of the condom and curled around her.

  “Incredible,” he said, still catching his breath. “Fucking incredible.”

  He licked up her neck, prompting an aftershock. Spun out, Cassie turned onto her back, her head foggy. She smiled up at him with a syrupy satiation. “For the record, I don’t dislike you as much as you think I do.”

  “Same here.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. She needed to be careful—she didn’t know where this was heading, but it had been so long since she’d been this close to someone. Cassie ran her finger through a line of sweat on his chest, feeling the same dampness on her lower back. She was drenched in the smell of sex, but she could shower later. And she had a feeling Patrick’s 1200-thread-count sheets had seen worse.

  The thought of other women here bothered her in a way it had no business doing, but then she remembered his offer.

  “Did you mean what you said? About focusing your attention on me?”

  He was silent for a moment. “I did. Is that you saying yes?”

  Was she? Things had certainly changed between them, but she didn’t want to rush into this. And she still had so many unanswered questions. Ones she didn’t want to ask while they were naked in bed.

  “I think I need to sleep on it.”

  He looked at her intently, then nodded. “Sleep here then.”

  “Here?”

  “Yeah, it’s—” Patrick glanced at the clock on his nightstand, “—after two in the morning. And getting chilly out.”

  “It’s not that chilly.” Although, compared to Miami this time of year, it was downright frigid.

  “Whatever.” He snuggled close, tucking her into the crook of his arm. “You’ll be more likely to give me the answer I want after a good night’s sleep.”

  “Nice rationalization,” Cassie said sarcastically. But deep down, she was touched.

  “Is it working?”

  She stifled a yawn. The night had sapped her energy. “I am tired. And your bed is extremely comfortable. I guess I’ll stay.”

  “Good.”

  Patrick kicked down the blanket and sheets, getting his feet beneath them and then pulling them up to cover them both. Cassie stretched her arm over his chest and closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure how they’d gone so quickly from hating each other to lovers, but she gave in to it, enjoying the feeling of him holding her close.

  She breathed in his scent and drifted off to sleep.

  12

  Patrick woke up alone.

  He sat with a start, gaze darting around the room. Cassie wasn
’t there. His breathing went shallow, and his chest locked down until he heard the sound of the shower running. Leaning forward, he put his head in his hands and took a few deep breaths.

  Man, Pavlovian reactions were hard to kick.

  It wasn’t as if he didn’t wake up by himself all the time. If a woman was in his bed until after sunrise, it was because the fun had lasted that long. But waking alone unexpectedly was a slingshot into the past, and his accelerated heart rate proved that last night had been the epitome of bad decision-making on his part.

  The plan had been to find someone else. To flash some hot, willing, twenty-or-thirty-or-he-couldn’t-care-less-year-old in Cassie’s face. But somehow, he’d ended up propositioning her instead.

  Blinking back the bright sunlight, Patrick yanked off the covers, threw on a pair of boxers and dropped to the floor. He needed to move in order to think. Balancing himself on his hands and toes, he started his morning routine, planning on doing as many reps as possible before his arms gave out or Cassie finished in the shower, whatever happened first.

  Maybe it was her smug attitude that had set him off course. She’d thought she was unattainable, beyond his ability to ensnare, and he’d had to prove her wrong. Or perhaps it was another instance of the Dunham-Allbright battle of wits—nothing would piss her off more than getting seduced by him, and he’d been compelled to show her he could both dance, and get her from rude to breathless, without breaking a sweat.

  But as he felt the first beads of perspiration on his forehead, Patrick knew all of that was bullshit. He’d gone after her because she blew his goddamn mind. Because her wit and playfulness was as hot as her body. Because one time with her wasn’t enough, and he abso-fucking-lutely needed to get at her again.

  And that was a problem. Because he never slept with the same woman twice. And now he was offering her a fucking exclusivity contract.

  His nose met the floor, arms shaking as he hit his two-hundredth push-up. There was no rationalizing his way out of this one. He’d told her he made exceptions, and that was true—a rare bonus night when he ran across someone he hadn’t seen in years and it was clear there was a leftover itch that could use a little scratch. Nothing like chasing someone a week after he’d had her, and nothing like what he’d suggested last night. But it was the look in her eyes, that damn eyebrow when she insinuated one night wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy. Most women barely admitted they had one fantasy. Cassie looked like she had so many scenarios cooked up in her head, there weren’t enough hours in the night to get through them all.

 

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