by Cathryn Fox
What the fuck? He sucked in a sharp breath to keep himself together. They were just exploring a brief affair. Neither one of them was looking for any kind of relationship.
“I need you out of this so I can put my mouth on you.” He slipped one hand behind her back and unhooked her bra. The lace fell forward, and he slid it off her shoulders.
“Oh my,” she said, her words tumbling out on a whisper. “What skilled hands you have.”
He grinned at her big bad wolf reference. “The better to touch you with, my dear.”
A smile played on her mouth, and she ran her fingers over his shoulders, her body eager for pleasure. Good. Because he planned to spend the night giving her what she wanted. He leaned into her and dragged his tongue over her nipple before drawing it into his mouth. Her sweet scent curled around him, and he breathed her in, letting her perfumed skin fuel his arousal. A surge of pleasure shot through him, and he bit back a curse as his cock ached.
Her hands raked through his hair, and he sank to his knees. He nipped at her panties, and tugged them with his teeth, pulling them from her hips. She rocked against him, and his heart raced. A hard tug and he had her panties at her ankles. She stepped out of them, and he dug his fingers into her thighs, pushing them apart to make room for his greedy mouth. She shifted in her heels, spreading for him. He nudged her pussy with his chin, and she gasped, rocking against his mouth. He gave her one long, slow pass with his tongue, and inched back.
A cry caught in her throat as he climbed up her body, scooped her up, and carried her to her bed. A gentle toss and she was sprawled out on the sheets, his for the taking. But that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted complete surrender. Curious eyes never left his as he backed up and scooped the handcuffs off her dresser.
Her entire body stiffened, and he couldn’t help but grin. He spun the cuffs around his finger. No way would she be running out on him in the morning. Yeah, this might be her place, but she was a runner, and she wasn’t going anywhere until he damn well let her.
“What are you doing with those?” Desire clouded her eyes, telling him so much.
“Do you really have to ask?” At his question, she quirked a brow, tough girl Gemma back in place, and he laughed. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you don’t want this.” She opened her mouth, but he cut off any smart-ass comment. “Trust me?” He stepped up to her, his fingers barely making contact as he ran them over her fevered skin. Her entire body quaked.
“I…yes,” she said.
“Good.” He looked over her quivering body. “Because I want to play with you.”
“I thought you said you didn’t play games.”
He laughed again. Look at her lying there, trying so hard to maintain control when her body was begging her to hand herself over to him. “I do when handcuffs are involved.” Her dark lashes flickered, her chest rising and falling as her neck and face flushed pink. “Tonight you’re mine, Gemma. No running. No escaping.” He gave her two seconds to chew on that and said, “Now, hands above your head.”
Her fingers flinched. “You’re pretty bossy,” she said, her voice a breathless whisper.
“I’m waiting.”
Her chin lifted. “What if I don’t want to?”
“You do.”
“Oh really?” She clamped her thighs shut, but her voice lacked any kind of conviction.
“Yeah, really.”
“What are you, some kind of expert?”
“As a matter of fact I am.” His gaze raked over her sweet face and her gorgeous body, taking her in from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. “Let’s see. Flushed skin. Feverish, really.” He touched her, a light brush below the soft swell of her breast, and then dragged his hand downward. When he reached her sex, his fingers lingered for a moment then retraced his path upward. “Rapid breathing. Dilated pupils. Arched back.”
She wet her mouth, and he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. He brought it to his mouth and licked it. She whimpered, her hips shifting on the bed “Oh, yeah, you want this, Gemma. And now you’re going to do exactly what I tell you to.”
After one agonizing moment of hesitation, her hands crept upward, toward the bedpost. Pleasure burst inside him, and he damn near wept. She was perfect. So fucking perfect.
“Open your legs.”
Her thighs inched apart, and it nearly brought him to his knees. As she exposed herself to him, offering herself up so nicely, he tossed the cuffs on the bed for later, and walked around the bed, taking her all in. His cock throbbed so hard he was sure the pressure was doing damage. He grabbed his dick and shifted it inside his pants. She bit her bottom lip as she watched. “You are so sexy.”
He looked his fill, taking his sweet time, even though he wanted to bury his face between her legs and ravage her. Christ, the things this woman did to him without even trying.
She writhed shamelessly, and he liked it. He liked it a lot. “Carson, please.”
“Please what?”
“Touch me.”
He climbed onto the bed, eased her knees apart, and positioned himself between her legs, his body begging him to get naked and fuck her already. But he didn’t want to rush. He wanted so much more than a quick, hurried orgasm. He wanted to take his time and savor her for the rest of the night, and he was damn well going to do things his way, even if it meant handcuffing her. His hands went to her thighs, and he tugged, bringing her ass up, and her legs around him. Her shoes clicked behind his back, and the sweet sound sent vibrations straight to his cock.
He ran one hand over her stomach, caressing softly. “Is this what you want?”
She tossed her head to the side, her hair splaying across the bed. “Yes…”
He feathered his fingers over her flesh, slowly inching toward her sex. His thumb found her clit, and an erotic whimper filled the room. Need swamped him when he found her hot and wet. He put a finger inside her, and her hips soared upward, her body seeking relief. Blood pulsing hot, he pulled his finger out and plunged in again, knowing just how to touch her, and stroke the hot bundle of nerves inside.
“That’s it,” she cried out, her breath racing.
Lust sang through him, and it was all he could do to rein in his need. “You like that, huh?” Christ, he hardly recognized his voice.
She moved her body, and he repositioned himself. He withdrew his finger and gripped her legs, spreading her wider as his mouth went to her sex. He licked her, then delved deeper. His tongue swept over and in, swirling, licking…devouring. Jesus, he needed this. Feeling a little crazed, a little out of control, he plunged into her, and her legs tightened around his face.
“Carson,” she cried out, her body breaking beneath him. He stayed between her legs, nurturing her release with his tongue, and once she stopped shaking, he abandoned her sex, grabbed her hips roughly, and flipped her over. She gasped and gripped the bed sheets, her fingers curling into them. “Hands over your head, now.”
She said something, but he couldn’t make out her muffled words. Her hands flew upward, and he crawled over her, slipping the cuffs through one slat of the headboard and securing them around her wrists. He grabbed a pillow and shoved it under her hips, raising her ass up to him.
“So nice,” he growled, running his fingers down her spine, until he reached the soft swell of her backside. He kneaded her flesh then gave her a little slap.
“Ohh…” she whimpered.
“Don’t move.” He opened his pants. Relief washed over him as he pushed them to his knees and freed his cock. Shoving his hand into his pocket he grabbed a condom, bit into the foil like a man starved for more than just sex, and sheathed himself.
He gripped the base of his cock and ran the head over her sex. She moved against him, and in one quick thrust he drove into her. Tight. Hot. Mind-blowing. She gasped, and he gave her a quick second to catch up as his cock throbbed.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yes.” She moved her
hips, and he rocked with her. Together they created a rhythm, each giving and taking. His muscles rippled, and he angled his body for harder thrusts. Her body rose up to meet his, sharing in his urgency. Christ, she was so responsive it was all he could do to keep his shit together.
He powered forward and then withdrew, only to slam home again. Each hard push was met with a cry of ecstasy. Sweat collected on his brow, and there was nothing he could do to leash his control. His body ached for hers. He was desperate to release inside her, mark her as his. He crashed into her, teetering on the edge but not quite ready to fall over. He craved more, all of her. Tension rose in him, and he gripped her shoulders for better leverage. His heart pounded. His lungs grabbed what little air they could as she grew hotter beneath him.
“Carson,” she murmured.
His body trembled as she clenched around him, her orgasm draining every ounce of strength he possessed. “That’s it,” he murmured, his breath growing shallow.
With a restless hunger he couldn’t seem to sate, he pushed into her at a maddening pace, blunt strokes that prolonged her orgasm and brought on his. He closed his eyes, sinking into a haze of nothing but sensation. Tension eased from his body as he answered the pull in his groin, letting himself go high inside her. Their moans mingled, hovered, and fell over them like a warm blanket.
With their bodies still unified, he collapsed on top of her, breathing hard and heavy against her back. She stretched out beneath him, the handcuffs jangling on the bedpost. He lifted slightly to see her, and marveled at the things she made him feel. There was no woman in the world so sexy, so perfect. Honest to fuck, she took his breath away, and he wanted her again. Right now.
He discarded the condom, grabbed a couple tissues from the box on her nightstand, and cleaned them up. She wiggled against his hand when he slipped it between her legs. He grinned, loving this side of her.
He put his mouth close to her ear. “Key?”
“Dresser.” She sounded drowsy and sated. A well-fucked woman. He liked her all warm and soft like this, but when it came to being sated, he was pretty sure he’d have to take her another two, or fifty, times before he had his fill.
Slipping off the bed, he found the handcuff key and released her hands. “Come here.” He dropped onto his back and pulled her close, gently rubbing her wrists. Her hair tickled his face as she rested her head on his chest. He brushed it back and fought off a yawn.
Her breathing changed, became softer, and she snuggled in tighter. They stayed quiet for a long time, both lost in their own thoughts. Warm fingers splayed over his stomach, and she gave a contented sigh. Bedding rustled as he covered them, his mind replaying the dinner with his family. No way could he let Gemma plan an engagement party with his mother. That wasn’t a part of the agreement, and he’d never ask her to do anything that made her uncomfortable. Christ, it was supposed to be simple. One dinner to get his mother off his back. Now he feared he’d made things more complicated.
He caressed her arm, and she quivered. “You didn’t drink the wine tonight,” he said quietly.
She lifted her head, and sleepy eyes met his. “What?”
“You didn’t drink the wine. You only pretended.”
“Aren’t you observant? And you’re right. I didn’t drink the wine. I only took the glass because I didn’t want to be rude.”
“You don’t drink?”
She nestled against his chest again, her fingers lightly brushing his stomach. A long pause and then, “No.”
“Because of what happened at the party?”
“No, not really.”
She tightened up, and he guessed he’d hit another sore spot. He went quiet and waited a long time for her to speak. He wanted to know more—everything—about her, but he didn’t want to scare her off. Then again, this wasn’t supposed to get personal.
“My mother is an alcoholic,” she whispered. “I don’t want to end up like her.”
His chest squeezed at the sadness in her tone. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
He shook his head, and grasped for something to say, to make her feel better. “Parents. It’s always something, right?”
She looked at him again, with a longing in her eyes that tugged at his heart. “I actually liked yours, Carson. Your mom cares about her family.”
“I know. It’s just that I hate the falseness of it all, you know.” When she nodded, he asked, “What about your dad?”
“He was never in the picture.” She made a noise, a snort of sorts. “He left when I was a kid. But I grew up with plenty of father figures.”
He pulled the blankets up higher, tucking her in tighter. “Ah, I take it they weren’t good ones, though.”
“It was good when they left.”
“Why did they leave?”
“I don’t know, but eventually, they all did. They’d walk out the door, ignoring my mother’s pleas for them to stay. But they always left her, and left me to pick up the pieces. She could never be without a man, and I swore I’d never rely on one. ”
The puzzle that was Gemma began to click together. No wonder she acted so tough. She did it to protect herself—to keep people out. “They didn’t just leave your mom, Gemma. They left you, too.”
She went quiet for a long time. “Yeah. Some weren’t nice, were even emotionally abusive, but others actually were kind, and when I was young, I did get attached. I wanted a normal family, you know? As I got older, though, and watched so many leave, I got to the point where I didn’t even bother to learn their names.”
“Is that why you don’t do names, because eventually everyone leaves?”
“Something like that.”
He shifted to his side and lowered himself on the pillow until they were face to face. He brushed her hair back, and her eyes fell shut. “Gemma.”
Her lids opened. “Yeah.”
“Why did you let me take your virginity and then just walk out of my life?”
“I just did.”
“I never understood it. You didn’t even know me.”
“Carson,” she murmured, glancing away. “I just…I just needed you that night.”
“Why?” he whispered.
“I was a nobody, and you were so sweet. You wanted me, and I needed to be wanted.”
The quiver in her voice stopped him from pressing, but he had a damn good idea why she’d run away. She clearly had trust issues, and she’d been protecting herself. He’d been just a guy she expected to leave, because eventually everyone did. If she got out first, she couldn’t get hurt. His heart squeezed for the lonely girl who’d had to put on a tough bravado just to face the world.
He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I just want you to know I looked for you.”
“You did?” Her words tumbled out on a fluttery breath.
“Yeah, but no one knew you. I spent a lot of years thinking about you, and every time I moved to a different city, I’d look for you.”
She blinked. “Really?”
“Yes.” His gaze moved over her face. “Why do you find that so hard to believe?”
“No one ever cared…” Her voice fell off. “It was a long time ago. We were kids.”
“Just so you know, you weren’t a nobody. Not to me.”
She angled her head, her eyes a bit shiny. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What did I say wrong at dinner tonight? What about your switching careers made everyone so tense?”
The muscles in his jaw tightened. He should have known that question would come up sooner or later. He supposed he owed her an explanation. If they were going to present a united front, they needed to know more about each other. It wasn’t something he’d ever talked about, but the way she’d opened up to him tonight, he wanted to tell her.
“My sister was drugged. I couldn’t prevent it, the way I did with you.”
She gasped. “Oh my God, Carson.” She went up on her elbow and placed her hand on his face.
Her touch went right through him. “What happened? Was she…?” Her words fell off, as if she couldn’t bring herself to say them.
He nodded, his throat too tight to speak. The warmth of her palm seeped under his skin, and he leaned into her.
“This had something to do with you switching careers?”
He nodded again.
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea, otherwise I never would have said anything. You know that, right?”
“I know.” A sound caught in his throat, and it almost hurt to breathe as old memories bombarded him. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The memory of finding Crystal on the floor, half dead from the drugs that asshole had slipped into her drink, still haunts me, Gemma.” Her arms went around him, and she shuffled closer. Warm hands traced over his back, comforting, soothing, pushing back the darkness that lived inside him.
“I had no idea how to revive her. I was eighteen years old, just off to college. I’d come home for Christmas and heard about a party. I didn’t know she would be there. She was only sixteen and had lied to our parents about where she was going that night. When I found her on the floor in one of the upstairs bedrooms, I didn’t know what to do. So I just called 911.” He tightened his hand on her shoulder. “I swore to God I’d never feel so helpless again.”
“She’s okay now, though, Carson,” she said quickly. “She seems happy.”
“She is.”
“Thanks to you.”
“She feels guilty, though, and I wish she wouldn’t.”
Her brow furrowed. “Guilty about what?
“I went after the guy and nearly beat him to death.” He made a fist and looked at his knuckles. “I was so enraged, I didn’t even know what I was doing. I got arrested.”
She gave a slow nod of understanding. “That’s why you didn’t go into law,” she said quietly, almost to herself. She took his hand in hers and held it, her touch like a healing balm.
“These hands save lives every day, but I’d do it again in a minute, Gemma. I would.” He breathed in and let it out slowly. “Do you hate me for that?”
