He drew away with a pop! as the suction released and then blew cold air across her neck. Dee mewled and reached blindly for him, hoping he’d do it again. “More!” she cried. Already she missed his mouth on her skin.
“You’ll get more—in fact, I want to mark all of you.”
“Yes,” she moaned.
“But I won’t rush.” He demonstrated by slowly licking up her neck. “You’ll be desperate, drenched, and begging before you’ll get my cock.”
His words were naughty. Deegan’s panties dampened as she listened to him, even though part of her was appalled. Her sweet, gentle Viking wanted her to beg—and she wanted to oblige. Her brain was hazy with lust, so she couldn’t quite figure out why she should be miffed, but it wouldn’t go away. That little sliver of doubt, of worry, kept the words locked up.
He nipped her neck right over his mark, making it sting before he kissed it soothingly, but he didn’t press for immediate begging. Instead, he cupped the back of her head and brought their lips together again. The kiss was slower than the last, but he didn’t tease with light strokes; he swept inside her mouth and owned her, tangling his tongue with hers in a sensual duel that had her moaning into his mouth.
She rocked against him, writhing in his arms, but he didn’t let her wrap a leg around him and hump his body like she desperately wanted to. While one hand remained at the back of her neck, ensuring their kiss continued, his other swept down to the bottom of her spine and pressed her into his body. With them plastered together, there was no friction. None.
Dee’s clit throbbed and ached. She tore her mouth away from his and cried out, “No! I need more, Tugarth. Please, please…” Her breath caught as she continued to writhe in his arms, her nipples rubbing against his chest just hard enough to make her pussy clench. “Fuck me!”
“No.” He bit her lower lip in punishment.
A tear leaked from the corner of her eye. “Why?”
His thumb swept across her cheek with reverence, wiping away even the memory of tears. “I need you to want me the way I want you.” He kissed her with a feather-light brush of his lips. “Completely.” Another chaste kiss. “Without a thought for anything but me.” He nipped her hard, shocking her enough to elicit a yelp. “Mindlessly.”
It made total sense to her—in fact, he was just being fair, really. He could have demanded she cluck like a chicken and she probably would have swallowed her pride…a little begging? In that moment, it felt natural to demonstrate how much she wanted him. He was the sexiest mountain of muscles she’d ever seen.
“Please, Tugarth, I want you. I need you—so much,” she whispered against his lips. “Let me come before I lose my mind…”
“In this, when you want my cock, I’m your Bonded. You’re my Charm and I’m you’re Bonded.” The words were hoarse, spoken through gritted teeth. His control was finally unraveling. “Say it,” he commanded.
“My Bonded,” she purred, once again rubbing herself against him. “My sweet, strong Bonded. Please let me come, please let me have your cock.”
Her words were brazen—perhaps Tugarth had gotten it right when he’d nicknamed her his ‘brave one,’ because she never would have imagined saying that before, but she needed him badly enough to put aside her fears and let it all out.
“My Charm,” he sighed, leaning in close to kiss her tenderly on the lips. “You beg so sweetly.” Dee smiled at his praise, thrilled for her reward—finally! “But I’m still not totally convinced,” he said as he drew back from her embrace. Dee was instantly ready to burst into tears. Her body was aching and she’d just begged him, for fuck’s sake, and still it wasn’t enough? What else could he possibly want? “I need to see for myself whether or not you really need me. Strip and get on my bed, hands above your head,” he ordered. “And then spread your legs.”
Fuck yes! She almost whooped and threw up a victory punch, her tears completely forgotten, but reined it in so she could focus on losing her clothes. She was naked in record time, crawling across his enormous bed with no shame. Sex! Orgasms! She flopped onto her back and kicked her legs wide, hoping he’d see what he needed to see and then jump right into giving her more of the bliss she’d found with him both other times they’d had sex.
He didn’t say anything for a long minute, choosing instead to devour her with his gaze. No part of her escaped his notice, from her wild red hair—which was probably snarled around her like a crown of crimson thorns—to her toes, which curled under his thorough inspection.
In that moment she was beautiful. More than beautiful—sexy. She preened a little, arching her back and widening her legs to entice him.
“So eager, my Charm.” He smiled softly. “And so obedient.”
That rankled a little; she wasn’t obedient. Dee had always prided herself on being independent and in control of her own life. She was…enthusiastic. She didn’t argue with him, though. Her pussy was soaked, dripping down onto her ass and then to the sheet below, and she felt empty without him. Arguing was the last thing on her mind.
“I’m finally going to taste all of you,” he said, almost to himself. He gazed down at her exposed sex and licked his lips. “You’re wet for me, my Charm.” He leaned over the edge of the bed and used one finger to stroke the puffy lips of her pussy, making sure not to graze her clit. She held her breath and tensed, waiting—hoping—for more.
His finger lazily explored her until she thought she’d shatter from sheer frustration. He avoided her clit and the entrance to her vagina…he teased her, tracing sensual patterns across her sensitive flesh and then moving as soon as she felt the tremulous beginnings of orgasm.
Her fingers twisted together above her head, itching to slide down and play with her stiff nipples. Her breasts felt neglected, and Dee moaned at the thought of pinching the tips as her Viking nipped at her clit.
The visual was so stimulating that a stiff breeze could’ve knocked her over into orgasm, but he pulled away just as she started to tip into ecstasy. He did it over and over, all while silently studying her face. A smile tilted his lips, but his eyes were hard and hot—possessive. It confused her. Why was he denying her—denying them?
“Stop it!” she bit out, twisting to her side when he withdrew again. “Stop torturing me!”
He gripped her hips with his big hands and put her right back where she’d been. And then went back to lazily tracing her pussy lips like she hadn’t rolled away or snapped at him. He didn’t say anything or get angry; he just tormented her some more, all while smelling like a chocolate-covered orgasm.
“Stop!” she cried, trying to twist away again. Her body was on fire, too alive with need for his games. She reached down and strummed her clit while her legs drew up in anticipation of the inevitable bliss.
Tugarth snatched her hand away and loomed over her, his face dark with anger. He grabbed her other hand for good measure, shackling both above her head. “You haven’t been listening, my Charm,” he scolded. “This isn’t about how fast you can get off. This is about savoring our union, and I’m not going to rush. I’m not going to let you rush.”
“Please!” she sobbed. “It hurts!”
He leaned down and nuzzled her cheek. “I know. I ached that way while you hid from me,” he whispered. “And it hasn’t gone away yet. We’ll suffer together.”
Dee thrashed under him, his words fueling her need to escape, to prove that she could douse the flames all by herself. It would be done and over if he would let go of her hands. She could be free…
Dee stilled, a giant bell ringing in her head. Ding! Ding! Ding! It mocked her as guilt overrode her desire. “This…the torment, it’s about when I hid from you,” she whispered.
He didn’t answer. He just used a single finger to trace her swollen lower lips.
“But that was different!” she tried to explain, wanting him to understand. She’d been scared, overwhelmed—and then she’d felt betrayed.
“This will be different,” he corrected. “You’ll never
want to leave again.” He pulled himself up and away from her, releasing her hands in order to pat his shirt and then his pants as if searching for something. He found whatever it was and then grinned. The tool looked like a pocket knife, neatly folded into a shiny oval…and then he started to unfold it.
“What is that?” she asked, her brain already at work wondering how she could tinker with it.
Tugarth just smiled and kept fiddling with it until it was a straight rod, similar in size to a standard wrench. Strangely, the seams from where it had been folded were invisible. He quirked an eyebrow at her, as if to say watch this, and then put a hand on either side of the tool; he pulled, muscles straining magnificently, and the metal expanded.
Dee gasped and watched in awe as the foot-long tool stretched until it looked more like rope than a wrench. “That is so cool,” she murmured. The shiny material coiled on the bed around Tugarth’s knees as he continued to stretch it. She sat up and reached to touch it, wanting to tinker, but he swatted at her hand.
“Lay down,” he ordered. “And put your hands above your head.”
Dee rolled her eyes. Males always got so territorial about their toys—but he should’ve known better. It’s not like she was trying to snatch it away and keep it for herself. Still, she lay back and put her arms up over her head. There was no reason not to accommodate his bossy self. She knew her indecision had hurt him, made him feel unwanted. It hadn’t been her intention, and while she was glad the other survivors now had access to the Peacekeepers Medbed scans thanks to her suspicions, she was sorry he’d felt even a temporary sting of abandonment. A little—teensy bit—of obedience wouldn’t kill her, but it might make up for her waffling.
That, and finally gain her an orgasm. Two birds, one stone.
She stretched out and made of show of getting comfortable, her breasts jiggling as she shifted; Tugarth watched, a smile flitting across his lips for a moment before he went back to work on the strange, bendy tool.
A few minutes of silence passed, and Dee sent up several prayers of thanks when her body stopped humming and throbbing for orgasm. Not being on the edge was quite a bit more pleasant than hanging over the side without hope of a safe landing.
Alas, she spoke her prayers too soon.
She’d relaxed in the silence, had let the tension seep from her muscles, and had allowed her mind to wander…making her vulnerable to attack. Tugarth pounced, leaping from the side of the bed where he’d been kneeling to straddling her hips in a single graceful move—one of his hands once again shackling hers, the other still gripping the metal rope.
Dee swallowed her scream of surprise and stared up at him with wide eyes. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to make you beg,” he told her. His voice was calm, as if he wasn’t holding her down, and his focus was on the tool he’d been working on. He wound it carefully around her wrists, making sure she couldn’t wiggle free, and then tied the ends to the headboard.
“You’re scaring me,” she whispered. Although she’d never been raped like the other women, she’d seen more than her fair share of it. She’d also seen beatings, torture, and humiliation. The rope brought those memories roaring to life, and Dee felt on the verge of panic.
He sat back on his heels, his bigger body still straddling hers, and met her gaze. “I would never hurt you, Deegan. I’ll protect you until the day I die,” he promised. “Even from yourself.”
She relaxed a little, reassured by his words and steady gaze. And then her mind zeroed in on the last bit of his declaration. He thought she’d harm herself? What the… “You mean the aneurism?”
Tugarth nodded and began stroking her thighs with his furry knuckles. “Yes.”
Dee closed her eyes and shuddered, her body igniting at his simple caress. Her unfulfilled needs were confusing her senses, making every desire and every touch more explosive; she didn’t know if she’d come or cry.
“It was an accident,” she explained. “They called hivemind because—”
“I don’t care, my Charm,” he said, cutting her off. “All that matters is that I wasn’t there with you. You kept us apart.”
She was about to apologize—to explain—when he wrenched her legs open and settled between her thighs. She almost rejoiced, but he wasn’t naked—in fact, he was still fully clothed.
“Now that we’re together again, I’ll never let you leave,” he told her. “You’ll never want to leave.”
“I’m not trying to leave, Tugarth.”
He grinned. A real, take-over-his-face grin. He went from broody and sexy to adorable. Adorable and sexy, of course. “No, but you’re not begging anymore either, and I miss the sound of that.”
. She opened her mouth to retort—
“Oh!” she squealed in shock.
His tongue was warm and wet, firm while being gentle as it glided over the folds he’d teased so mercilessly. She sucked in a deep breath and choked on it, her body unable to focus on simple things like oxygen while he lazily traced unseen patterns across her pussy. And his breath. Oh, it was hot.
Each exhale amped her up, sending shudders racing through her body with enough force to make her joints ache. She’d crumble. Fall apart at the seams. There’d be nothing left if he didn’t hurry up and end the torment—the sweet, wretched torment.
Oh, how it hurt.
“Tugarth!” she yelled, mouth hanging obscenely open as she tried to draw in air between moans. “Please, I can’t…please!” He licked her again, this time allowing the tip of his tongue to brush against her clit. A scream was pulled from her gut, wrenched out of her by sheer need. She felt it from her toes to her teeth, a cry of frustration so raw that it forced tears from her eyes. “P-please!”
The stutter had her Viking pausing, adding anticipation to the moment. But then he redoubled his efforts, his wet, warm tongue widening as he flattened it. She screamed again, this time wordlessly, as he licked up from her ass to her clit.
Every cell her body was alight, vibrating, and on alert; she was set to explode, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He just licked. Slowly. Thoroughly. Ass to clit. Over and over, setting a steady pace designed to drive her out of her mind.
She writhed and bucked and screamed, unable to hold still as the sensations escalated. He just used his massive hands to hold her hips still and licked calmly, patiently, through her screams as if he couldn’t hear them.
Her hands twisted in the rope, tugging and pulling until her skin burned from the friction. She was right there; an orgasm to end all orgasms was so close! Her mind was all-in, leaning and stretching toward the euphoria just beyond her grasp, but her body refused to take the leap. He wouldn’t let her take the leap—they were bound.
For whatever reason, without her Viking, the pleasure wasn’t within her reach. She knew—instinctively—that she’d never be truly satisfied unless they sought completion together.
But that wasn’t fair! It didn’t matter how petulant, how petty, it was; she didn’t want to wait, to be tied down! It was her body, her decision, and she’d kick his beautifully toned ass for making her dependent on him!
Tugarth seemed to sense her distraction and responded by minutely speeding up his torture. All of her spare brain cells cried for mercy and abandoned ship.
Her screams, moans, and keening whimpers mingled and then waned, rising and falling like the notes of symphony. Only when she began to sob—like, on the verge of ugly crying—did Tugarth pull away and allow her a respite. He nuzzled her hip, licking and kissing as her body hummed from the delayed gratification.
Although the pain of denial was a literal ache, it was better than hanging on the cusp of an orgasmic cliff. Dee sniffled and turned her face into her arm, seeking to hide despite being splayed open in front of her lover.
Tugarth prowled up her body, nipping at places and then sweetly brushing his lips over others before settling into the cradle of her hips. His clothes felt rough against her sensitized skin, especially his cock, which
he lightly thrust against her pelvis; her pussy was inflamed from all the teasing, swollen with need, and the contact made her hiss in pleasure-pain.
Silently, she cursed him. Her sweet, gentle Viking was a bastard. A cruel, stone-cold, cock-sucking bastard. A heartless alien jerkface.
She was so busy working herself into a frenzy of name-calling that she didn’t pay attention when he rested his forearms just outside her restrained arms. Without a constant sensual onslaught, it was easy to get caught up in her head. Sadly, it didn’t take long to exhaust her limited knowledge of expletives, and she was wracking her brain for more when warm breath on her ear sent a shiver directly down her spine.
Dee bit down on her arm to keep from turning to him and begging for more.
“My bright one. My brave, beautiful, bright one.” He nibbled her lobe, biting just hard enough to reignite every ember of lust that had begrudgingly faded into the background. “Kiss me,” he demanded.
Kiss him? Dee turned her tear-stained face and glared at the jerkface. She expected him to be the picture of dominance…but there was no smirk, no smug twist of his perfect lips, no cockily raised eyebrow. No. Of course not. Her Viking’s eyes were soft and filled with love.
He ran his nose along her cheekbone, sweetly caressing her with the tenderness of longtime lovers, until their mouths were aligned. It was adorable. It was everything she’d ever dreamed but never dared to wish for.
Well, fuck him.
She opened her mouth against his, allowing their lips to meld into a kiss that would have once brought Dee to her knees…and then she bit down. Hard. His grunt of pain gave her the most satisfaction she’d had since getting naked, but it didn’t last nearly long enough.
The taste of victory—which had a metallic tang—was sweetened by the sight of blood on his pouting lips. And then his wounded gaze sought hers. “I’ve read that humans have two reactions to fear,” he murmured, wiping away the blood with the back of his hand. “Fight or flight. Until now, I’d only ever seen flight.”
Deegan's Rescue: Survivors of Paradise Book 2 Page 9
