When he stood, she nearly turned away and then shook her head at the absurdity of it. She stopped and watched as he undid the fastenings of his trousers and pushed them down his legs straightening as he stepped out of them. He was lean at the waist and hips, broad at the shoulders and a muscled back that made her mouth go dry. His nakedness did not disappoint. Her eyes followed the dark hair that arrowed down the center of his chiseled chest, lower past his tight abdomen and her heart nearly leapt from beneath her ribs. His erection surrounded at the base by a thatch of dark wiry hair was huge, thick and hard and made her breath catch in her throat.
She nearly sobbed when he moved back to her side, tipped her chin up to pin her with a hard blue stare. “You are beautiful, Persephone,” he said, his voice deep, rough, caressing her as his warm hands cupped her breasts, stroking her nipples. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on one of the scars that covered her left breast. And a moan broke from her. His arms circled her. He felt hot and hard and delicious against her damaged body. He slid closer until his thick erection rubbed against her belly, no question that he desired her even after what she had allowed him to see and a sensual flush ran through her right down to her toes.
“The way you are looking at me makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.” She was overwhelmed with the storm of emotions rolling through her mind. He desired her and wanted to take care of her, please her. Before it had all been about how powerful it made them feel and the ability to inflict their will on someone weaker. They did it because they could, not because they desired her.
Parker sat back down, legs spread, his arms still around her waist, pulling her towards him until her legs pressed against the edge of the bed. She stepped even closer until his body heat surrounded her. He leaned forward his head pillowed between the valley of her soft breasts. He relished the closeness, her scent, her soft skin, and sent up a prayer of thankfulness. He took slow measured steps to bring her closer and draw her further into his sensual web without causing her to be frightened. He pulled her onto his lap and brought his mouth down on hers. Capturing her mouth in a deep, devastating kiss, giving her everything he had. His lips firm, knowledgeable, teasing a response from her, making her forget her scars and her nakedness when his tongue stroked hers.
Gentle.
Ruthless.
Irresistible.
“You have extraordinary breasts,” he murmured against her mouth before bending her backwards, over his sinewy forearm in a position of conquest. Sensitive nerve endings screamed in sensation as the steel-hard muscles of his arms locked her to him, his hair-roughened chest rasping against her nipples. “Everything about you is beautiful to me. I stand in awe of your strength and bravery.” The force of his words made her stomach quiver and her knees shake. She was grateful she was already sitting down or she would have surly melted into a puddle onto the floor. Her peaks hardened almost painfully as the blood thundered to them and a gasp left her throat as their lips met in hunger and desperate need as he devoured her.
She was only barely aware of falling to the bed, but she was very much aware of Parker’s larger body covering hers. His thick shaft pressed against her belly, his lips still melded to hers, stinging kisses raging between them full of passion and need.
Quite suddenly an irrational fear overwhelmed her as his heavy body fell upon her reminding her of the others who had done the same and she couldn’t breathe. She felt trapped, suffocating when the tightness settled into her chest. She jerked against his body and began beating on his back and shoulders. Frightened, her breath came in hard pants and shallow gulps. “I can’t…breathe,” she wheezed, tears gathering in her eyes.
Parker quickly sat up, kneeling between her spread legs, his warm hands running up and down her arms in smooth even strokes. His gaze steady on her face as he brushed wet tendrils of her hair back from her sweat dampened forehead. He knew why she panicked. It was all so very clear to him now and he did not want to add to her fears. Silently he watched her and when her breathing slowed, he reassured her, “I won’t hurt you, Persephone.” Still running his hands soothingly up and down her arms as he patiently waited.
Persephone worked at slowing her breathing. The deep puffs of air she finally managed to pull into her lungs helped her panic to lesson a little. She concentrated on taking deep, calming breaths and focused on the soothing sound of his voice.
“Do you want me to stop?” Parker set one finger under her chin, lifting her face. “Persephone?” He stroked her jaw. “Do you trust me not to hurt you, Persephone?”
She was surprised at how patiently he waited through her hesitation. The touch of his hand easing her panic, her heartbeat gradually slowed and she nodded.
“Persephone?” He questioned again, trailing fingers through her hair, stroking over and over.
She swallowed thickly at the sound of him saying her name the way he did. As if in a deep, reverent whisper. “Don’t stop.” She smiled up at him, her eyes soft and content as she pressed her palms to his broad chest and smoothed them upward to his shoulders. She felt him trembling at her touch. His breathing raw and harsh pushed from his chest in torturous spurts. His reaction surprised her, but when she looked into his eyes, she saw a desperate need that matched the one unfurling inside her and her smile turned dazzling, brilliant. Her fears rapidly fading.
Parker’s arms tightened around her and he rolled to his back, pulling her with him as he did, draping her over his chest so that she would have more control and not feel imprisoned. One hand slid into the fall of her hair that cascaded over her shoulder, the other playing up and down her back, stoking the fires burning inside her higher, hotter. He leaned up, his eyes blazing up at her and she smiled.
“Love me, Parker,” she whispered.
Parker slid his mouth down the center of her neck tasting and biting supple skin. “I will, Persephone.” I do. Kissing the hollow at the base of her throat, he put his mouth on her breast, sucking her ripe tip into his heat like a sweet berry, suckling it until she released a deep throaty sigh and arched her back as liquid heat pooled between her thighs. Her nails biting into his chest at the hard tingling pull on her breasts that reverberated low in her belly and made her head drop back.
Persephone felt as if she were burning alive for him now. She needed him. Needed him inside her, wrapped around her, needed one last memory of his touch and his love to sustain her in the future.
Just in case.
Just in case he walked away once he learned everything about her.
She loved the hot, firm feel of his body as her small hands flattened against his hair-roughened chest. The hardness of it, the way the tough, lean muscles flexed and rippled beneath her touch. It made her feel as if she had a semblance of control. That she held some power in her fingertips. “I love touching you.” The breathless words whispered past her lips without thought.
Each leisurely stroke an exquisite torture to Parker’s will. “You can touch me as often as you would like, love.” His hard, gravelly voice was like a stroke of pleasure over her sensitive nerves.
“So hard and powerful,” she continued. “Yet, so soft, so gentle.” Her voice held an almost awed tone. “I was afraid that all men were monsters. Cruel, heartless.” Her voice broke, glancing up into his eyes, hers watery pools. “You’ve proven me wrong.” She laid her head against his chest. “Thank you, Parker.”
He should feel ashamed at how his blood boiled, she was baring her soul to him, but she was naked. Her body draped over his and his cock surged, making him grind his teeth at the pleasure. She trembled deliciously in his arms and he was awash in the feel of her being against his body, straddling his legs, her feminine cradle nestled against him moist with her desire. She wanted him. He could sense a rush of heat starting at the nape of her neck and spreading throughout her body as she trembled in his arms.
He rolled back over and pressed her into the mattress, pausing, waiting to see how she would react before he continued. When she t
ugged him down with her hand wrapped firmly around his neck he continued his exploration, skimming his hands over her thighs, moving his hand down between her legs, feeling her hot wetness as he trailed his fingers languidly through the wet red curls teasing her swollen flesh. She wanted his touch; she widened her legs giving him better access as she placed her hands on his shoulders, clinging to him. Her body over sensitized by his languid exploration.
He watched her writhe as his touch made her whimper. His thumb inched up until he reached her hot opening, but then he stopped short of touching her. “What do you want, Persephone?”
“You,” she whispered hoarsely, arching her back, lifting her hips to seek out his fingers. Panting, desperate, eager for more of what he was willing to give.
Parker obliged her body’s desperate plea by sliding his fingers deep inside her, his control slipping as her inner muscles gripped his fingers. He watched her every move, never taking his eyes from her face. When he moved his thumb up and circled her nub, rubbing, and sliding as overwhelming pleasure warmed her blood sending tingles racing down her spine to gather in her center. Her back arched off the bed as she cried out and shuddered, astonished as the powerful climax washed over her body so swiftly, cleansing her soul. Her eyes closed, her breath caught as her head fell back against the pillows piled high on his bed, panting and purring with desire.
Parker felt an immense sense of satisfaction that he was able to give her such pleasure, that her body responded so enthusiastically to his touch. “My God, Persephone.” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re magnificent. So responsive. Perfect.” For the first time in his life he felt an overwhelming urge to weep. His emotions rising to the top filled with want, needing to overflow.
Persephone ran her fingers down his chest, tracing her nails over his sleek flesh, exploring the crisp triangle of hair that tickled her fingertips. Parker groaned, distracted by her continued path down his taut abdomen until finally she placed her hand on his long, hard erection that waited demandingly for her touch. Her delicate fingers moved lightly along the length of his engorged shaft. Her breath came out in a husky gasp as she traced the vein on the underside with the tip of her finger, smoothing, letting her fingertips learn him. She stroked from base to crown, tightening as he pushed his flesh harder into her palm, relishing the power her touch had over his waning control.
“You’re torturing me,” he whispered, sliding one of his large hands under her backside; he lifted her, bracing her. With his other, he took hold of his erection. He stroked his rigid length in her wetness, sliding it against her, gliding the sensitive tip down her cleft, and then up again.
He leaned down and dug his fingers into her hair, holding her head close.
“Hold on to me, Persephone,” Parker said, and she did, putting her arms around his neck as he positioned his cock at the passageway to her sex.
“Parker.” She shifted, impatient, but he eased only the knob of his engorged shaft inside her opening. Not enough. “Please.” She moaned as if in frustration and slid her hand down his belly to help guide him into her drenched sheath and she let out a sweet sigh when he finally breached her body.
He grinned and withdrew, rubbing the entire length of his straining cock between her slick folds, then he stayed there, drawing out the anticipation, getting himself under control.
“Please,” she said again, arching her back, digging her heels into the mattress.
He thrust inside her, a thick, wet slide, and she cried out in throaty pleasure. She let out a strangled whimper, dropping her head back against the mattress, her hands clinging tightly. Her body tightened and her nipples grew harder as they brushed against his chest. “Parker.”
He captured one of her nipples between his lips, sucking it deep, rasping his rough tongue over the distended peak and Persephone cried out with the intensity of the pleasure that shot to her center.
Parker broke, taking her without mercy until she thrashed, sobbed, pleaded. “Oh, please,” she whispered, panting with arousal. “Parker.” She clung to him as he slammed his rock-hard length deeper into her setting a rapid, powerful pace. “Parker.” Her nails scored his shoulders, holding him tightly as he continued to plunge into her over and over again fast and feverishly. She clutched at the linens that covered the bed as an exhilarating sensation started to coil within her body once again.
“Oh, yes,” She arched up and cried out his name, “Parker.” Even as he pushed one more time inside her causing her to erupt in a frenzied explosion, her body trembled and quaked around his hardness as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.
He thrust up into her, a hard, steady, relentless rhythm until he found his own release. His body shuddered and drove even deeper inside, her inner muscles fluttering, draining him, as he kept pumping in and out of her hot channel until he emptied himself completely, pulsing deep inside her, taking pleasure in his own climax. Parker’s mind coherent enough to remember to fall to her side instead of trapping her beneath his heavy body again.
It had never been this way for Parker before, an almost spiritual act. This was more than just a physical release, but a binding of two hearts. Two souls. They lay together in a tangle on the bed without words, just breaths mingling in the quiet room and heartbeats slowly easing with each rise and fall of their chests.
Persephone lay against Parker; perspiration fusing them together as the tiny aftershocks slowly eased through both their bodies. He wrapped his arms around her and she burrowed deeper. She laid there enjoying the feel of their bodies pressed together. Just for a minute, she thought as Parker held her safe and warm in his arms. She would give him just a moment and she sobbed.
“I’ve got you. You’re safe.” He held her as silent tears spilled from her eyes in hot droplets against his chest and her shoulders shook. He ran his hand down her back until her sobs faded into slow and easy breaths.
She drifted somewhere between sleep and waking, her body satisfied and utterly relaxed and her mind cleared after her tears.
He brushed the flames of her hair off her face and ran a finger down her smooth cheek. “I’ve got you.” His fingers slowed their caress as he drifted off to sleep with her wrapped in his embrace.
Persephone lay awake, rubbing her cheek against Parker’s skin, wanting to take his scent with her when she left.
Knowing that she would.
***
He was pushing Granville’s buttons. He Knew it. Granville took great pride in his work. Took great pride in what he had built.
He had never been serious about taking anyone to the dungeon, in point of fact, it sickened him. The rumors about him were partly true and partly false. He liked sex as much as the next man, perhaps more, but he liked his partners willing, not bound and gagged.
And definitely not caged.
He had taken a tour of the dungeon as part of his initiation and had looked into the eyes of those chained. He could see straight to their souls and could point out the ones that were there of their own accord and those that longed for a quick death. He had felt a wave of pity so sharp, so enervating; he had had to turn his head away from the others before giving himself away. He replaced that look with impersonal regard and a hint of lust.
It had taken him a while to cultivate the reputation required to gain access to this exclusive club. He had done things that he hadn’t enjoyed, but his partners had. He had found them specifically for that purpose. They enjoyed the pain, the humiliation. He did not.
He was sickened that he had become aroused by some of the scenes and every day since he had fought. Fought to distance himself from the pain and the arousal.
Some enjoyed being hurt and he couldn’t fault them for their peccadillos, but he could find fault with himself. He knew that some were not there on their own accord and that was why he fought.
Bile rose in his throat and he had to choke it down quickly before he blew his cover and ruined the whole investigation. Taking the life of the daughter of a peer had ruffled too many of
the wrong feathers and Granville would pay one way or another.
He still had nightmares of one girl kept naked. She was crouched in her cage, covered in her own excrement and urine. Her red hair tangled, loose hanks hung dirty around her head, covering her hollowed cheeks. And those eyes. Big, green, terrified. But what had haunted him the most was the sight of her swollen belly. He would remember that sight until the day he died.
The shrill screams still echoed in his head. He hoped he could save her. He prayed he would save her.
He turned to see leather biting into an unknown man’s buttocks followed by a scream of pain.
Would he ever be able to hear the creak of leather again without breaking into a cold sweat? It made it damned difficult to ride when he nearly froze in panic each time he sat astride his prized mount. He feared he was too weak to continue. How could some administer such pain without a flinch and he could barely stomach the torture? Was he too weak of a man? He tried to control his almost imperceptible flinch as the leather snapped against naked flesh once again.
It took all of his will to smooth out the frown that furrowed his brow. Stretching his legs out, he sipped his brandy and idly watched Granville toy with a blonde shackled and spread across a rough wooden table. The girl’s eyes squeezed shut from pain or pleasure. He couldn’t be sure.
He lifted his eyes and caught the redhead’s pleading gaze and he froze for a long breath. In that brief second, his steel-blue eyes promised retribution.
Granville would pay, especially when these sickening games had nearly devastated his brother’s life.
He would destroy him for that sin alone.
But he also knew that Granville was not a man to be trifled with. He would need to tread lightly if he was going to be able to fulfill all of the promises he had made. He curled his right hand into a fist.
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