by Tawny Taylor
Oh yes, under her skirt.
A shudder swept up her, starting at the base of her spine and racing up her back. She groaned as the kiss became more urgent, as his tongue plunged deep inside her mouth, stroking hers. No longer a seduction, it was now a possession, a claiming. And she was so willing to surrender to it, to him.
She had waited so long for this. At last she would feel what it was like to be taken by this strong, powerful man. “Please,” she said when he broke the kiss to nip the side of her neck. Her voice was raspy, breathy. “Please, I hurt. Everywhere.”
“Dammit,” he growled. “Dammit.”
He kissed her again. He didn’t wait for her to open to him, no. He pushed his tongue inside her mouth. He tasted, he took. The hand that had been inching up her bare leg made a swift leap to the apex of her thighs. A deep rumble vibrated in his chest.
Fisting her hair with his other hand, he jerked her head back and kissed the tender, sensitive skin of her neck. Goose bumps burned the entire front of her body.
“Please,” she whispered as she pulled at the waist of his pants. Her fingers found the button of his fly, and she tried to pull it open, but her fingers were clumsy, the trembling sweeping through her body making her movements uncoordinated. Frustrated, she cupped the warm bulge lying beneath the zipper and rubbed.
She was rewarded with a tender stroke between her legs. Her cotton panties felt like a thick shield between his fingertips and her burning tissues. They had to go. Had to. The pulsing heat shooting through her body was becoming unbearable. It had to stop. Soon. Now. “Yes,” she whispered.
He stopped kissing her. He stopped caressing her. “Open your eyes,” he commanded. “Open them now.”
She did as he asked. She couldn’t resist his command, as much as she wanted to. She was afraid what he might say. “You have no idea what you’re getting into.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will.”
“I get it. You have sex for the sake of having sex. I don’t. At least, normally I don’t. Tonight, I want to. And I won’t become a crazy stalker afterward.” She had made up her mind. She would have this man. He would have her. There wasn’t going to be any more talking.
“That’s not what—”
She pulled her shirt up over her head and flung it away. That shut him up. His gaze snapped to her breasts, covered with scraps of lace, then climbed to her face.
He took a quick glance around, shrugged out of his jacket, and handed it to her. “No.”
No?
It was a terrible blow, being rejected by this man. Who would do such a thing? Who would turn down a sure thing? Why? This was the second time he’d done this to her. Twice. Now would he run off, find someone like Angela again, and pound away all that male need with her?
Eyes burning, she pushed one arm through a sleeve, then the other. She held the front closed to hide herself, her shame.
Anxious to find her discarded top and escape to the safety of her own car, she turned to search for her shirt. “Okay. Well—”
“Come with me.” He opened his door, and while she squirmed around, searching for her top, he circled the car and opened the passenger side for her.
She said, “I can’t find my shirt.”
“We’ll get it later. Come.” He extended a hand.
Later?
Completely confused, she placed her hand in his and stood. Her knees were a little wobbly as she stepped aside to wait for him to close the door. She held her purse and the foam carton of food in her hands.
When he had the door shut, he placed a hand on the small of her back and motioned toward the building. “Let’s go inside.”
So he wasn’t shoving her into her car and racing off? He wasn’t dumping her like he did last time?
A silly, giddy feeling rushed through her. Then came the nerves. Dozens of skittery butterflies fluttering through her insides.
Ohmygod, something was going to happen.
She hoped.
Then again, maybe he was going to take her inside and let her down easy.
Unsure what to expect, she followed his direction. They boarded the elevator. She moved to the back, resting against the rear wall. When the door closed, he turned around and looked at her. “You look sexy as hell in my coat.”
The deep timbre of his voice made her shiver.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“No.”
His lips curled into a bone-melting smile. Moving swiftly, he trapped her between his bulk and the elevator’s wall, arms outstretched. His suddenly aggressive move sent a wave of thrill pulsing through her. Her breathing quickened as she stared into his dark eyes, waiting for what he would do next.
Bending his arms, he angled his upper body closer, and she tipped her head back, maintaining eye contact. It was no wonder this man made her melt. He was different from anyone she’d ever met. Not only was he absolutely glorious to look at, but he emanated a certain feral energy. It was that vibe, of barely restrained power, of danger, that made her heart pound so hard in her chest. Yes, that was it.
She never would have guessed she would respond to a guy like this.
“You’ve never been restrained before, have you?”
Restrained? Oooh. He was into those kinds of things. Kinky sex games. She’d never done any of that stuff. The closest she’d ever gotten was when her old boyfriend insisted on having her use a dildo in his anus before they had sex. But this was different. That guy was looking for her to be the leader while he lay there, enjoying it. She had the distinct impression this man would be the one doing all the leading. He was much more aggressive.
The danger vibe just upped a few dozen degrees. Now she was intrigued and aroused and . . . a little scared. The tissues between her legs clenched. Wow, she was very aroused. As in, dripping.
“No, never,” she whispered.
He forced a bent knee between her thighs, and she began tipping her hips forward and back, forward and back in time to the beating pulse thrumming through her body. A soft whimper slipped from her lips as the heat intensified, thanks to the friction rubbing against her delicate, swollen tissues. “Are you afraid?”
“A little,” she admitted.
“Good.” He hit a button on the elevator, and it lurched into motion. She hadn’t even realized he’d stopped it. As it crawled up, up, up, he turned back around and tormented her neck with his tongue, lips, teeth until she was writhing in agony.
“Come with me,” he whispered against her neck.
She opened her eyes, having not realized she’d closed them. The doors made a deep rumbling sound as they opened. He took her hand in his and led her down the hallway to the suite at the very end. Seconds later, he had them locked inside. She glanced around the dark space. It was a small reception area, furnished with a few chairs. At the rear was a narrow corridor, she learned a few seconds later, as he escorted her to the room at the end of the hall. He opened the door and flipped on the light.
It was an office, furnished with the standard desk, chair, bookcases, and file cabinet. More than a little anxious, she stepped aside, turning toward him.
His eyes were like flickering bits of coal. Dark, simmering. He prowled toward her as she back-stepped until her rear struck something hard and low. He angled closer, bracing his hands on the desk behind her. “You don’t know what you want, do you? You’re not sure you’re ready. You’d better make up your mind. Fast. Now.”
Like she could think in this position?
Here she was, trapped once again. This time he had her caged between his body and the desk. His eyes were telling her she should run, fast.
His face was telling her she should stay.
And that wicked curl in his lips . . . it was saying a lot of things.
“Last chance,” he whispered. “Leave now. Go. Before I get another taste of you. Because once that happens, I won’t be able to stop.”
Oooh, did she like the unspoken promise in his voice. Of pleasure
far beyond her imagination. Dark pleasure, like nothing she’d ever experienced.
That was it. She couldn’t leave. She had to find out what that wicked gleam meant.
10
Unable to speak with all the emotion swirling through her system, Michelle gave him her answer. She lifted her lips into a smile and then closed her eyes and let her head fall back.
He growled. Like a big bear. Or a wolf. A beast. A shudder quaked her.
His lips and tongue teased her tingling skin, sending little tremors buzzing through her body like electrical charges. All those buzzes and zaps arced through her, coiling in her center.
Her hands trembled as she lifted them to fist the crisp, smooth cotton of his shirt. She wanted to tear it open and explore the smooth-skinned body beneath, but she couldn’t summon up enough strength. When he nipped her earlobe, she practically melted. It seemed he knew exactly what to do to make her more desperate for his next touch.
Moaning softly, she let her body fall back. He caught her, supporting her with strong but gentle hands as she reclined onto the desktop.
“Look at me,” he commanded once she was lying flat on her back.
Look at him? Gladly. It took some effort to drag her heavy eyelids up. But she was very glad she did it once she saw him.
Could there be a more beautiful man alive? She doubted it. His face could have been sculpted by a master. It was utter perfection, from the slight cleft in his chin to the arch of his brows.
“If you want me to stop what I am doing, say the word ‘red.’ ”
Why would he tell me that? She must have looked as confused as she felt because he nodded and angled upright. His face and neck were flushed as he took a visible breath and slowly let it out, mumbling something unintelligible as he exhaled.
He cleared his throat. “Do you remember the question I asked, before we came up here?”
Did she? No, she didn’t. Her brain was sort of short-circuited right now. Thinking was hard. Feeling a little foolish, she pushed herself up on bent elbows and shrugged.
“I asked if you’d ever been restrained,” he reminded her.
“Oh yes. That. I remember now.”
“You said you hadn’t.”
“That’s right.” An image flashed through her mind. Him, angled over top of her writhing body, her arms bound together, over her head, his hips wedged between her spread legs. Her heart jumped.
“Say ‘red’ if you want me to stop, if anything gets too intense. Understand?”
“I understand.”
“Do you have any health problems I need to be aware of?”
“No.”
“Okay.” He took a single step back. It seemed, from the vibe he was giving off, that he’d regained his ability to think, and he was having second thoughts about this.
She wasn’t.
He needed to know that.
“Please,” she said, her voice small. “I can’t believe I’m begging. That’s so not me. I’ve never begged a man for sex. Never. But I am now.”
The corners of his lips curled slightly. He wasn’t smiling, no. But she could see he was pleased. And for some reason, knowing that made her insides hop around like a pack of wild rabbits.
His hand cupped her cheek, and his gaze drilled into hers. “What is it about you? You’re nothing like what I thought I was looking for. Nothing. But I can’t . . .” He dragged his thumb across her lower lip.
“Can’t what?” she asked, her heart in her throat.
He shook his head. Then, suddenly, he kissed her. Like the last one, this kiss was fiercely passionate. His tongue swept inside her mouth and filled her with his decadent flavor. One of his arms looped around her back, holding her up while he angled over her. She felt herself slowly easing back again until she was lying on the desk, her burning body trapped under his.
When he broke the kiss, she had to gasp to refill her lungs. His gaze raked down her body, setting every nerve inside her aflame. “I want to see you.” He grabbed the lapels of his jacket and tossed them out to the sides. “Beautiful,” he murmured, eyes fixed on her lace-covered breasts, which were aching for his touch.
Instinctively, she arched her back, pushing them higher. Touch them, her body was telling him.
Answering her unspoken plea, he pulled down one cup, easing her breast out. With finger and thumb, he tugged her nipple, rolling it until sharp blades of need were piercing her insides, shooting straight to the swirling heat burning between her legs.
One thought kept racing through her head as she writhed and burned beneath him. Only one. Take me. Take me now. But she didn’t speak. She let the pleasure and the torment pulse through her in white-hot bursts. One after another. Hotter. Faster.
He slipped a hand under her back and unhooked her bra. Now she was bare from the waist up. Her skin tingled. Her nipples prickled. Hard little peaks. He pulled one into his warm, wet mouth. His tongue flickered over the tip and a blaze erupted inside her body. She cried out, swung her arms up to hold on to him. He caught them in his fists, pushed them up over her head.
“Hmmm. You can still use your hands. We’re going to have to do something about that.” Moving away from her, he circled the desk. The scrape of wood echoed through the small room.
She dragged her eyelids up to see what he was doing.
He had a desk drawer open. His gaze lifted, locked to hers. “Remember, ‘red.’ ”
“Red,” she repeated.
“Good.” Circling back around the end of the desk, he lifted his hands. A dark gray silk tie was draped between them. “We’re going to have to improvise tonight.” He stopped at the far end of the desk. “Your hands.”
Jitters quaked through her. Slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, she sat up and extended her arms in front of her. “Do you always tie your partners up?” Even to her own ears, she sounded scared.
“Pretty much, yes. I’m asking you to trust me, by allowing me to do this. I realize that’s no small thing. I promise,” he said, meeting her gaze, “I don’t take it lightly.”
A shudder quaked through her whole body. Deep blue-black flames shimmered in those eyes of his. And hiding in the darkest depths was something else, something she couldn’t name yet. She was mesmerized, captivated.
This man, this stranger, was tying her hands. He could do anything to her, rape her, hurt her, kill her. She didn’t know him. He could be wanted in all fifty states. If nothing else, he’d proven he was nothing like the men she normally dated. He was different. He was a little dangerous. He was mysterious. And yet something told her he was trustworthy. If she said ‘red,’ he would stop.
She watched through slightly glazed eyes as he tied a neat knot around her wrists. Once they were bound, he helped her lie down again and pulled on the tie, forcing her arms up, wrists over her head.
“Now, that’s better.” He dragged the tip of his index finger down the center of her face, between her eyes, down her nose, over her lips, her chin. His gaze followed that finger as it traveled lower, along the sensitive skin of her neck to her collarbone. Lower, between her breasts. Her breathing sped up as she felt the heat of his gaze on her skin. The nerves lying below the surface tingled and zapped, little mini-blazes of heat sparking all over her chest.
How did he do that? How did he ignite so much heat in her with just his eyes and one little fingertip?
“You’re breathing very quickly,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Better than all right, actually. But she still yearned for more. A lot more.
How much longer would he draw this out? She was in agony. Was it the anticipation that was making her so hot? Or was it the way he looked at her? The way he touched her? The way his perfect lips lifted at the corners when he was pleased?
Her fingers curled into fists as wave upon wave of wanting washed through her. Those waves swelled when he growled, “The rest of these clothes have to go.”
They did, oh yes.
Most definitely. And his clothes, too. The thought of seeing that body, all of it, sent a shudder quaking through her center.
He unzipped her skirt and tugged it down over her hips. A cool draft of air gusted over her legs as he stepped away, and she shivered slightly. “Are you cold?” he asked as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties.
“Yes and no. Cold and hot.”
“Ah, good.” He gently eased her lace panties over her hips. As he slid the garment lower, over her thighs, he dragged his blunt fingernails over her skin. The slight scuff felt so good.
A sigh of pleasure slipped from her lips.
She was nude, lying on his desk, wrists bound, semi-defenseless and under his control. And, ohmygod, she was loving it.
“Now that’s a picture,” he murmured, bending over her. He flicked his tongue across the sensitive skin of her lower stomach, and her spine arched, rocking her hips forward. As a pulse of need rushed to the juncture of her thighs, she squeezed her legs together. But that gave her no relief from the burning. She needed a touch. No, she needed more. She needed a hot, hard, thick cock plunging inside, stroking her to ecstasy.
If this had been either of her former lovers, they would have been done by now. This agonizingly slow, drawn-out foreplay was killing her.
“Please,” she mumbled when his deft tongue meandered its way north, toward her breasts.
“Please what?”
“I hurt.” She squirmed. She shuddered. She whimpered.
“Where?”
“All over. Everywhere.”
“Tell me,” he commanded.
“Lower.”
His tongue flicked down, toward her belly button. “Here?”
“Lower.”
Leaving a cool, damp path, it moved a tiny bit closer to where she hurt the most. Still, it wasn’t nearly close enough. “Here?”
“No. Lower. Much lower.”
He stepped back, and she practically cried out in frustration. Then he picked up one of her feet and cradled it in his hand. With a fingertip, he traced a line along the arch of her foot. “Here?”
“Higher.”
Supporting her leg with his hand, he tickled her ankle with his tongue. “Here?”
