Double Take

by Leslie Kelly

  All she had to do was let him into every part of her, not just her body. All she had to do was surrender.

  Just surrender.

  He softened the kiss, cajoling her, seducing her. He continued to touch her with long, teasing strokes that were never quite enough.

  Surrender.

  Finally, she did. She trusted him.

  “Anything you want, Mike,” she whispered into his mouth, whimpering, dying. “Any way you want it.”

  He pulled away, looking down at her, masculine satisfaction written all over his face. His eyes glittered, the pupils dark with want, and a confident smile tugged at that incredible mouth. “Are you absolutely sure? Because I won’t stand for barriers. I’ll plow right through them.”

  Swallowing, she nodded, both scared and incredibly turned on by his self-assurance. He wasn’t threatening her, he was promising her. She only had to let down her defenses and he’d push through until she felt so good she wouldn’t remember her own name, much less her silly objections.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay then.”

  He stroked her slowly, sliding his hands back up to cup her breasts again. But he focused only on her face, watching her intently, as if to ensure she really was ready to let him lead the way.

  Lindsey gasped when he pushed the robe off her shoulders, pulled the spaghetti straps of her nightgown down and peeled the silky fabric from her chest. She hissed when his thumbs scraped over her taut nipples, sensation rocketing through her. She moaned when he finally kissed his way down her throat and licked the top curves of her breasts.

  And when he finally covered one puckered nipple with his mouth and sucked, hard, she gave a little groan.

  Heat burst through her; she truly was on fire, mindless, desperate to know what he’d do next but not asking, not interfering. Just taking.

  He sucked her, tweaked her, exploring her breasts with his hands and his mouth until she was sagging into the arm of the chair. Then he kissed his way back up to her mouth and pulled her to her feet. But he didn’t keep her there.

  Not letting the kiss end, he picked her up by the hips, holding her bottom in his big, strong hands. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, almost crying at the sensation of cupping that long, hard ridge of flesh between her thighs. She ground against it, desperate for the pressure, the strength, and whimpered as her sex swelled and moistened, pulsing with electric fire.

  “God, yes,” she groaned. “Please, I need to...”

  “No,” he ordered, lifting her higher so her sex was pressed against his waist, removed from that connection she craved. “You don’t take it—I give it to you.”

  “But...”

  “I said no,” he growled. “Not yet. Not until I say so.”

  She sucked in a shocked breath, staring into his face. He didn’t smile, didn’t wink, didn’t tell her he was joking. He merely held her stare, laying down his conditions.

  Mike didn’t want merely her surrender. He wanted her total and complete submission.

  The modern woman within her screamed in frustration.

  The sexual being within her purred in anticipation.

  Being free to do nothing but feel. No thoughts, no plans, no reactions...just sensation. Pleasure. The very concept scared her. It thrilled her. It overwhelmed her. It intoxicated her. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe; she could only give in to her true desire. And her true desire was something that would have stunned her just ten days ago.

  “All right, Mike. For tonight, at least, you’ll be in charge. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do.”

  7

  THERE HADN’T BEEN much doubt in Mike’s mind of exactly what Lindsey wanted and needed, even if she didn’t know it herself. But until she actually agreed, he’d held his breath.

  The moment the words left her lips, he released that breath with a self-satisfied groan. “You won’t regret it,” he promised her, intending to keep that promise no matter what it took.

  Not giving her any more time to reconsider, he headed for her room. Kicking the door open so he could carry her through it, he crossed to the bed, tossing her down upon it.

  Lindsey landed amongst a pile of pillows, half reclining. She was now covered only by a skimpy pair of panties and a tiny, wispy light blue nightgown that was pulled down low on her breasts, not even covering one well-sucked nipple. The fabric floated up over her hips when she landed, so now it covered only her middle.

  He didn’t follow her down, instead he stood by the bed, looking down at her. She reached toward one of her spaghetti straps—to pull it back up or push it all the way off? Didn’t matter. He hadn’t said she could.

  “Ah-ahh,” he tsked. “I didn’t tell you to do that.”

  Her hand froze; she eyed him with uncertainty. A beat. Then she lowered her hand onto the bed. Obeying.

  Though he knew she was still unsure about this, her eyes glowed and her face was flushed with hunger. Her kiss-reddened lips trembled. Those beautiful nipples he’d suckled were hard and moist, and he’d lay money she wanted to lift her own hand to tweak them, just so she could have a moment’s satisfaction.

  She didn’t move, however. She merely watched. Waited.

  “Good girl.”

  “I’m not calling you master,” she said with a tiny, playful smile, though her words sounded unsure—forced.

  “You will if I tell you to,” he said, his voice low, silky, brooking no disobedience. He reached down and pushed her hair away from her face, brushing his thumb over her lips. “Won’t you, Lindsey?”

  She blinked, her cheeks reddening, from anger? From excitement? Was a war going on behind her green eyes? He couldn’t be sure, not until her tongue flicked at his thumb, as if she simply had to taste him. And then she slowly nodded.

  He had no intention of making her call him master; however, she’d just agreed that he could. Not forever, certainly not outside this bedroom. But here and now, oh yes, he could, and she knew it. Progress.

  He began to unbutton his shirt, pulling it free of his pants. She watched closely, her breaths growing audible as she parted her lips and inhaled over them. When he undid his cuffs, pulled the shirt off and dropped it to the floor, she groaned, approval and hunger warring in her expression. Her hips thrust the tiniest bit, indicating she had no control over her body’s reaction. She wanted him desperately. Wanted to touch him and explore him, as he wanted to explore her.

  But not yet.

  “Take that off,” he ordered, nodding toward her nightie.

  She didn’t refuse, didn’t tell him he forgot to say please. Lindsey was getting caught up in this. She was enjoying it.

  Crossing her arms over her breasts, already mostly revealed to his hungry gaze, she pushed the straps down, pulling her arms free, and letting the gown float into a puddle on her lap. Her breasts were works of art, round and full, but not too heavy. He could still taste those rosy nipples on his tongue.

  He watched as she pushed the gown down over her hips, then her thighs, until she could kick it out of the way. It fluttered to the floor near his feet, a wisp of a thing, simple but so very erotic when it was taken off.

  He stared, rubbing his hand on his jaw, noting the scratch of his five o’clock shadow. For a long moment, he looked at her, picking out all the places on her body where she’d soon feel that scratch. Those breasts, that throat, that stomach and the hollow beneath it, right above her pelvis.

  And oh, those legs and what lay between them.

  “The panties, too.”

  She licked her lips, apparently a little uncertain about stripping naked while he just stood there watching.

  “Do it.”

  Her eyes flared, but not in annoyance. She was excited as hell. It rolled off her in waves, electric and thrilling.
/>   Lindsey might not have understood she wanted this, but he had.

  Ever since he’d met her, he’d caught mentions and hints about how much she needed to maintain control. She’d made it clear she didn’t let down her guard, that she made rules and set boundaries. Her own best friend had tried to teach her how to accept real, genuine intimacy by giving her that book.

  All of which just told him one thing: she needed to be fucked by somebody who wasn’t scared to say no to her.

  Somebody who would not let her hide behind her quick humor or stop things from going beyond her predetermined acceptable point of intimacy. The decision had to be taken out of her hands so she would just experience this, rather than having to orchestrate every aspect of it.

  “Did you not hear me?” he said, his tone holding an edge, his eyes on that pretty triangle of silk between her thighs.

  Reaching for the elastic hem, she wriggled the underwear off. As she pushed the panties down her legs, she bent forward a little, her long red hair falling down onto her lap, covering the parts of her he most wanted to see. She plucked the lacy bit of nothing off and tossed it away to land with her nightgown, then looked up at him. That long hair still covered too much, including her breasts.

  “Push your hair back.”

  She lifted her hands, twined her fingers through the long, silky strands then moved them back over her shoulders, revealing those breasts again. Perfect.

  “Lie down.”

  Moving slowly, she did, reclining on the pile of cushions. Twisting her hair, she let it fall across the pillows in a vivid red splash against the pillowcase. One hand remained on the bed, relaxed and vulnerable, the other rested on her flat stomach.

  His attention, however, was drawn a little bit lower.

  He ground his teeth, clenching his jaw to hold himself together. That tuft of red curls at the apex of her thighs was small and angled, a little arrow pointing down toward the lips of her sex, concealed between her coyly closed legs.

  “Let me see all of you.”

  This time, she didn’t hesitate. She was captured by the excitement. Bending one knee, she slid her foot up, letting her legs fall open. He groaned at the sight of that erotically smooth flesh between them; the curls were only at the very top, just for decoration.

  Such pretty decoration.

  But damn, was it pretty without them.

  He’d never been with a woman who waxed quite so thoroughly. The thought of burying his mouth in her, licking into those juicy crevices, finding her hard little clit and working it with his tongue until she screamed, made his cock ache.

  “You are beautiful,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, looking pleased by the compliment. It certainly couldn’t have been the first time she’d heard it—the woman was drop-dead gorgeous. Then again, considering he suspected she never let any guy really glimpse the real her, maybe she didn’t hear it all that often, beyond the superficial pickup lines.

  “Beautiful,” he repeated, because it needed to be said twice.

  He reached for his belt, unfastened it and pulled it out quickly. The leather cracked as it left the loops of his pants. Lindsey stiffened, her hands fisting, and he knew what thought had flashed across that brilliant mind.

  He hated that her thoughts had instinctively gone to such a place. Had someone abused her? Was that why she found it so impossible to give herself over and trust someone completely?

  “I’d never hurt you,” he assured her, sure she’d already accepted that, deep down, but might need to hear it anyway.

  She nodded, swallowing visibly. He noted the reaction, more sure of his suspicion. Somewhere along the way, someone had hurt her, maybe not physically, but emotionally she’d been conditioned to expect the worst.

  The very idea infuriated him, but he definitely didn’t want her to sense anger in him and tense up. So he forced it away and gave her a sexy, self-assured smile as he reached for the waistband of his pants.

  The tension left her as she watched him, and she almost cooed as he unbuttoned, then unzipped his khakis. He had to pull the material away to get the zipper down over his rigid cock. He’d never been this hard; the brush of his own fingers through the cotton of his shorts made him flinch.

  He didn’t drop the pants, letting them hang low on his hips. He did reach for the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, though, pulling them down a little. Never tearing his eyes off her, he grabbed his dick, big and throbbing, letting her see how much he wanted her. Stroking himself lazily, he acknowledged that her hands would be so much better, but he wasn’t yet ready to let her do anything but lie there and take what he planned to give her.

  She devoured him with her stare, so approving— wanting—and his own hunger dug into him even more brutally. It clawed at him, made him almost desperate to rip off his clothes and just take her until neither of them could think, much less move.

  But that wasn’t how this was going to go down.

  Hmm. Speaking of which...

  He sat on the corner of the bed, touching her bare foot, trailing his fingers up her long leg. Lindsey’s eyes fell closed and she arched her back. Her skin was incredibly soft against his hand, and it got even softer the higher he went. Her thighs were exquisite.

  As he reached the top of one and moved his hand inward, brushing his fingertips through that tiny landing patch of curls, she trembled. He knew what she wanted, what she craved. He could see the pearly tip of her clit, and the glisten of arousal on her sex—she was dying for him to make the touch ever so much more intimate.

  She didn’t say a word, didn’t make a single demand, didn’t even thrust up toward his hand. She was relaxed now; she trusted him, assured he wouldn’t leave her high and dry. Willing to let him set the pace.

  He would not disappoint her.

  He bent to press his mouth on the hollow just inside her hip, tracing his tongue across the skin, tasting a faint tinge of salt. Sweat. He was making her hot. Maybe next time, he’d use an ice cube to cool her off.

  Still driving her mad with those soft strokes in the hollow just above her sex, he began to kiss his way up her body. He nibbled at her hip bone, licked the indentation of her waist, detouring over to dip his tongue into her belly button. She quivered beneath him, and when he glanced up, he found her eyes closed and her mouth shaking. That glorious hair surrounded her like a halo, and her flushed face had never looked more lovely.

  He continued kissing, stroking, tasting, until he reached her breasts. He licked the base of one, nibbled the top of the other, but didn’t go near her nipples.

  She was still silent, but her hands dug at the sheets and her legs had gone a little stiff.

  “Do you want more?”

  She nodded.

  “Put your hands up onto the headboard and hold on.”

  She did as he commanded, gripping the slats. “Like this?”

  “Yes. Don’t let go. Hold on like you’re handcuffed there.”

  A gasp told him he’d shocked her. “You wouldn’t...”

  “As long as you hold on tight, I won’t have to.”

  She stared at him, wondering, assessing.

  Had he pushed too far? Come on, Lindsey, give in. Trust me.

  Finally, after an eternity, she licked her lips. “I won’t let go, but if I do, use a scarf from the bureau. Your cuffs might damage the wood on the bed.”

  Relieved, turned on, overwhelmed with excitement, and, honestly, proud of her for continuing to do something he knew she had never done before, he could only smile and nod. “Now, where were we?”

  “I think you were going to pay attention to my nipples.”

  “You think so?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Maybe if you beg me to.”

  She didn’t even hesitate, her eyes dark
and dreamy and her voice throbbing. “Please, Mike. I’m begging you, please suck my nipples. I need it, badly.”

  He immediately complied, relieving the tension for both of them, since he’d been just as desperate to taste her as she’d been to be tasted. He covered one tip and sucked it deeply into his mouth, tweaking her other breast, plucking, giving her a little pain that would only increase the pleasure.

  She groaned and hissed and arched into him. Her hips thrust instinctively, and he knew she’d reached the point of near desperation.

  He couldn’t torture her, couldn’t ignore the raw need in her. Keeping his mouth on her breast, he moved his hand down, scraping the tip of his finger on her sensitive clit.

  “Oh, God,” she cried. But she didn’t let go of the headboard.

  He stroked her, teased her, building things ever higher. Wanting to watch her reach the heights, he stopped suckling her and lifted his head, focusing on that perfect face, racked with pleasure that verged on agony, consumed by the fire he was building but unable to put it out.

  How could he not give her what she wasn’t asking for?

  He slid his hand lower, his fingertips gliding through the slick, feminine flesh. Finding her wet center, he thrust a finger into her tight core. She bucked up, panting. He stroked, in and out, giving her another finger, increasing the pressure while still toying with her clit with his thumb.

  She jerked and rolled her head back and forth on the pillow, losing herself to sensation. She was almost over the edge, but he wasn’t quite ready to let her go, so he pulled his fingers away.

  “Are you kidding me?” she snarled.

  “Wait until I can catch you.”

  “I’m not falling.”

  “You’re about to,” he promised, moving down between her splayed legs. He pushed them farther apart, draped one over his shoulder and gazed at that swollen, slick beauty.

  Bending to her, he covered her with his mouth and thrust his tongue deep, licking into her.