by Shayla Black
Her jaw dropped as she drew back in horror. “You saw that?”
“Live and in living color. I know exactly what you’re missing. Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll give it to you.”
“You can’t,” she blurted.
No one could. Something inside her just froze up every time she tried to come. By herself, she felt silly, the exercise pointless. With a man, she couldn’t be in the moment. She simply focused on the inevitable “good-bye” before it even happened. The “relaxing and enjoying” they always suggested just never materialized.
For a few years in high school and college, she’d slept with any guy rumored to be well hung or good in bed. Nothing. This intruder, a potent mixture of danger and edgy sex appeal, who hadn’t even told her his name, was even more temporary than most. He could be a cross between Valentino and a porn star and it wouldn’t matter. No way could he get her to come when every other man had failed.
“Try me,” he drawled.
His confidence made her shiver. Yes, a lot of guys had seemed as if they were proud of their bedroom prowess, and some had been better than others. This one… She wondered exactly what he had to back up his conviction.
Brenna shook off the thought. “Not to challenge you, but seriously, you can’t make me come.”
He just laughed. “If I do, you tell me about Curtis’s whereabouts and your relationship with him. Deal?”
Talk about a bargain with the devil…
“And if you fail, you’ll go away and leave me the hell alone?”
“Sure. Whatever. So, it’s a deal?”
Rolling her eyes, Brenna sighed. “This is pointless. You can’t make me come.”
“I can.”
Absolutely not. She was not going to invite a total stranger who had tied her to her own bed to fondle her just in case he could finally give her the orgasm she’d been missing all her life. She wasn’t.
“Prove it,” she tossed back.
God, she hated when her impulsive tongue got the better of her common sense.
“If I do, you’ll tell me what I want to know?”
Since what she knew was next to nothing, and he’d never make her come anyway, why not agree? Besides, every moment he was fondling her was a moment he wasn’t trying to kill her. And a moment she could be looking for some way to escape.
“Yes.”
“This is going to be fun.”
She saw a flash of white teeth in the dark. No doubt, he was awfully pleased with himself. As badly as her body would love the gratification, her head knew there was no way he’d be doing anything but eating crow. Then maybe, he’d unbind her. Hopefully. If not…she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.
The stranger reached down, disappearing from her line of sight for a moment. He returned, holding something she couldn’t identify in the dark. He pressed a button, and after a click, a short, sharp blade gleamed in the inky air between them.
Her eyes widened, and she gasped. “I-I told you, I’m not into pain. Or blood. Or death.”
“Me, either. But a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do…”
The intruder lowered the blade to her torso, beneath her tank top. Brenna’s heart pumped frantically in her chest, and she could barely hear his words over the roar of blood in her head. She tried to thrash away but every limb was too secure. If she kept that up, she wasn’t going anywhere—except to see Saint Peter.
He fitted the blade under the cotton and made his first cut—into the shirt, not her flesh.
“To see great tits,” he finished with a laugh.
The asshole! He’d been toying with her, enjoying her distress, knowing all the while he had no intention of killing her.
Relief and anger poured through her at once, flooding her system with something dark and unfamiliar. He yanked up with his arm, his biceps bunching and bulging. The fabric of her shirt began to rip a little more each time he sawed at it with his imposing strength. Finally, the blade sliced its way through the bottom of her shirt and the cool air teased her bare nipples.
“Holy shit.” He dropped the knife beside her on the bed and stared at her in the muted moonlight. His gaze was almost reverent as he cupped the breast the detective had abused earlier that day. “Cam pinched this nipple, didn’t he? Hard.”
Brenna gave him a shaky nod.
“How hard?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything that painful, especially the second time.”
“He did it more than once?” Incredulity colored the intruder’s voice, then he smiled.
Brenna was confused. Cam, he’d called the detective, as if he knew the guy. Did he? And why did he care about the way Cam had touched her?
“Were you even a little bit aroused?”
What an odd question. Was there a right or wrong answer? Did he want to know that Cam had turned her on? Under normal circumstances, she didn’t think any man wanted to know that another had aroused her. But with this stranger, she got the distinct impression that knowing Cam had affected her would please him.
“When he just touched me, before he pinched…yes.” In fact, in the moments before he’d delivered the pain, she’d thought his touch was one of the most pleasurable ever.
The intruder laughed. She didn’t get the joke, but didn’t think it was smart to ask him to let her in on it.
“He touched you first? Tell me how.”
“H-how? Ah…well, he put his hand on my breast.”
“Just walked up to you and did this?” The stranger enveloped her sore breast in his palm.
“No. He grabbed my arm and spun me around, so his front covered my back. I…I could feel his hard breaths on my neck and every ripple of his chest when he exhaled. He reached around me and…”
“And you liked it.”
That wasn’t a question. Brenna didn’t reply.
“You’ve been helpful already.”
He bent down and placed a kiss on her abdomen, then his tongue stole into her navel. Unexpected tingles darted down low, and her belly quivered. Her womb clenched.
“Hmm. Responsive,” he whispered on her skin. “I like that in a woman. Let’s see just how much.”
Already he’d gotten more out of her than some guys had after a whole hour of sex, but that hardly meant he was going to be the man to incite her orgasm.
He kissed and nipped his way up her torso then laved her abused nipple. Blood filled it in a rush so quick, it was almost painful…but a sweet sort of pain. She gasped.
“Nice. Very responsive.”
Before she could absolve him of that notion, he laved her other nipple. As if grateful to finally get some attention, it stood straight up almost the instant his tongue touched it. His thumb came behind him and provided enough delicious friction to make her catch her breath.
“Stop. This has gone far enough.” Brenna tried to sound authoritative. Instead, she sounded like a quivering, half-aroused head case.
“Unless you have very sensitive nipples, I can’t make you come like this. We have a deal. You reneging?”
“I-I… You can’t just…” She sighed in frustration. “It’s not a real agreement.”
“The hell it isn’t. The chance to make you come in exchange for information. Or to get rid of me if I fail. Those were the terms.”
“You can’t mean to hold me to it.”
“Why not? First, it’s a great score to see you completely naked. I have every inch of you to myself. Second, it’s the only way you’re getting me out this door before I have what I want.”
And tied down to the bed, she wasn’t in any position to refute him.
Getting rid of him wasn’t what her body wanted, but what would be best for Curtis and her own self-preservation? As much as she didn’t want her gorgeous intruder to know that she was a freak who couldn’t come like a “normal” girl, she wanted him gone more.
“Why do you want Curtis so badly that you’d seduce an unknown woman in the middle of the night?”
&
nbsp; “Believe me, honey, you’re no hardship.”
“You’re not answering me.”
“It’s not something you need to worry about. We have unfinished business, Curtis and I.”
“His business is dangerous. Do you know what he’s been up to? Are you involved?”
“Yes and no, in that order.”
“I certainly didn’t know before I read it in this morning’s paper, and none of this makes sense! Who are you?”
“It’s not important.”
“I can’t come for someone whose name I don’t know. Mental block.”
That wasn’t the only thing that would mentally block her from orgasm, but she had a feeling he was one stubborn man who would insist on finding that out for himself, no matter what.
The intruder paused. “Thorn.”
She frowned. “Is that a first name or a last?”
“What do you need, my full name, social security number, and blood type? This is simple—you either tell me where Curtis is or…I make you come and then you tell me.”
Brenna sighed. “I swear, I don’t know anything.”
“We’ve been over this, babe. Besides…” He dedicated both hands to touching her breasts and toying with her nipples. “I’m enjoying the hell out of this. Cam’s hard-on after his visit here makes a shitload of sense.”
It shouldn’t matter that she’d made the detective hard. That flutter in her belly was ridiculous. He was potentially the enemy and she wasn’t likely to see too much of him in the future. But knowing she got to him…well, it did something for her feminine pride. Detective Martinez was a major hottie.
Then again, from what she could see of her intruder, Thorn was easy on the eyes, too.
“I’ve got one myself,” he added.
Oh, hell. Like she needed to know that he had an erection. A curl of thrill cut through her belly. Stupid…but it wasn’t like she had a lot of control over the sensation.
“And I’m dying to know what you’ve got down south,” he murmured in the dark.
Before she could protest, Thorn jerked the sheet away from her waist, past her hips, down her legs, then he ripped away the wisp of lace around her hips. Thanks to her bound and spread ankles, he had instant access to everything.
Thorn didn’t hesitate, didn’t work up to his next touch. He cupped the mound of her sex, fingers dipping just inside her lips to test. He slid right over her slick, sensitive tissues, his fingers covering the quivering button of her clit.
He flashed her another smile in the dark. “Wet and bare, my favorite kind of pussy. It’s going to be my pleasure to find out how many ways I can make you come.”
“I don’t think…”
He circled his fingers over her clit and bent to take that sore nipple in his mouth. At that point, thinking wasn’t happening. She bucked and arched as sensation tore through her. A burning ache broiled between her legs. A line of tingles zinged between her nipple and her clit.
Oh…wow. This guy was good.
He moved his mouth to her other nipple and let his teeth gently scrape her flesh. The connection between her nipple and parts south only increased. She shifted restlessly. So he wasn’t just good, but really good.
Then he shocked her with a long, strong sucking of the nipple. She didn’t want to respond to Thorn; he was a stranger in the dark, sweetly tormenting her for information she didn’t have. She had nothing to give him, either in 411 or in orgasm. But logic wasn’t stopping her body from arching to give more of herself and get closer to this man.
He lifted his hand from her sex and wrapped his left arm around her, securing his strapping forearm in the arch of her back to keep her lifted to his mouth. The hot, bare flesh of his chest and abdomen licked fire across the skin of her torso. Being closer to him was somehow more exciting than having his fingers on her clit. It felt more…personal. He felt more like a lover. A dangerous sensation, but Thorn was so solid all around her. Unlike all the guys in high school, his touch told her he was committed to giving her orgasm, not getting a ten-minute lay at a drunken party.
When he lifted his mouth from her nipple and moved it up her body, he nuzzled her neck, his hot breaths skittering across her sensitive skin. Goose pimples broke out. He nipped at her lobe and she gasped, but he quickly swallowed that sound with a demanding kiss.
He drove deep past her lips, sweeping inside as if he couldn’t wait another minute to taste all of her mouth. Immediately, he proved that he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol, unlike the guys in her past. All she tasted was spicy, aroused male.
Brenna didn’t have to ask what he wanted; his desire to conquer her was all there in his groan, in his kiss. He challenged her with every thrust of his tongue, every frenzied sweep of his lips over hers. He was like a race car, built for speed and flash. If she let this go on, he’d dominate and do whatever necessary to ensure her compliance. Oh damn. The thought aroused her.
No, no, no!
He’d broken into Curtis’s bungalow either to coerce information out of her or get laid. Neither motives were particularly sterling. She needed to tell him to get lost, go to hell, and never come back.
Then he climbed up on the bed, between her legs, tore his vest off, and with a whispered “fuck, yeah,” leaned over her body.
He fit his mouth right over her sex, his tongue swiping across her clit, providing maximum devastation.
Her cry filled the room as he swooped in for seconds, then thirds, then got really comfortable, as if he planned to stay for a while.
Without thinking, Brenna tried to raise her hands to tangle in that long golden mane. The cuffs stopped her short.
“Feel those cuffs,” he whispered against her slick flesh. “I’ve got you just where I need you. God, you taste sweet. And those cuffs are going to keep you there until I’ve tasted every drop of cream this sweet pussy has to offer.”
“This is insane.” Her voice shook both with lingering fear and rising passion.
“This is hot.”
He pushed her thighs a little wider, urging her to bend her knees and flare them out. The ties around her ankles stopped her eventually, but he opened her enough to dive deeper into her…and make her feel even more vulnerable than before.
Thorn didn’t waste time getting back down to it. He struck quick and fast, with destructive results. Her resistance began to melt under the onslaught of his determined mouth. A swipe of his tongue before he sucked her whole clit into his mouth. Then—oh, God—he plunged a pair of fingers into her.
Her hips lifted, and she offered herself to him like a sacrifice.
Without hesitation, he took it.
The burn between her legs shimmered and grew, streaking up her belly, down her thighs. She began to tremble. And Thorn showed no mercy—and no sign of letting up anytime soon.
But eventually he would let up. He would leave her. Every man did. Then…what? She would have given a part of herself to a man who didn’t know her, wouldn’t be there for her in the future. Did he even know her name? Could she pick him out in a crowd?
The thoughts ripped through her, leaving ugly shock in their wake. She was naked with and responding to a man who knew absolutely nothing about her and cared even less.
The fact she couldn’t feel him anywhere on her body except between the legs all but shouted that she was just a pussy to him. She’d almost been more aroused by feeling his bare chest against hers, heart to heart, his mouth demanding a response from her. Without that…well, his touch felt more like a sensual attack than a shared pleasure.
Brenna sank back to the mattress, tensing, doing everything to close her legs against his determined mouth.
Thorn lifted his head to glare at her. “What the hell? Relax.”
She shook her head. “I don’t relax with men.”
He quirked a golden brow. “With women?”
“Oh my…no!”
“Just checking. You one of those women who needs cock to get off?” He sat up and unsnapped the waistband of his
leather pants. Then he reached for the zipper.
“Stop! I’m not the kind of woman to get off for a total stranger. Can we have a little light here? The dark is too…intimate, and I barely know you.”
“I had my mouth on your pussy. If that’s not getting to know you, what is?”
“A hit and run.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, then reached across her body to the lamp on the nightstand. Quickly, he flicked it on then leaned over her body again.
Brenna took one look and sucked in a stunned breath. Gorgeous, almost exotic in a Norse kind of way. He looked like she imagined a Scandinavian god would—but with leather and tats. Sun-kissed skin only accentuated the harsh slashes of cheekbone dominating each side of his face. And his ice-blue eyes left her speechless. Beautiful…and emotionally lifeless. He could be a seducer or a killer without much deliberation or remorse.
She began to shake.
“I’m sure you can find plenty of women who get into anonymous sex. I’m not one of them. I swear I’ve told you everything I know about Curtis Lawton. I don’t know him well. I’ve seen him a handful of times in my whole life,” she said truthfully. “Just…go.”
Thorn said nothing for a long moment. But those stunning eyes, they told her he was thinking hard and fast. She suspected very little got past this man.
“Curtis fuck you?”
“No. Never.”
He paused again. “You frigid?”
Brenna winced. God, she hated that word. It implied that a woman was somehow irreparably broken.
Well, aren’t you?
“That’s none of your business.”
He stabbed his fists on his hips. “Since I’m the man in bed with you, baby, I beg to differ.”
“My name is not baby!” Brenna bucked against her bonds. “Or honey or babe or—”
“Whatever. Does it matter? It’s just a figure of speech.”
She wanted to slap the man. “No, it’s something you say when you don’t know or can’t remember a woman’s name, isn’t it?”
He didn’t reply for a long moment. He didn’t avoid her stare or look contrite—he was too full of macho bullshit for that—but something told her she was right.
