Roark's Leading Lady [Soldiers of Passion 2] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Dace Everan

  She tried to move her hips only to have his hand grasp her and hold her still, defeating her purpose. “Roark!” she cried out, shoving at the hand on her hip, lifting her body until his thumb crossed over her clit.

  She slumped back and lifted her hips. “More please.”

  Roark smiled. “‘Sir’ on that, and I will do anything you ask,” he voiced huskily.

  Harley grunted, shoving his hand away her own fingers replacing his. No way in hell would she ever call him Sir! She heard him make a tsking sound before she heard the rustle of something. She wasn’t sure what, but the sweet pressure building in her pussy was so close to releasing.

  She screamed as he grabbed her hands and slammed them together above her head, then proceeded to tie them with his belt. He looped the free end of the belt through her headboard and tied a quick knot, then gave a yank to assure it wouldn’t loosen.

  He crushed her body to the bed with his weight. “You will not ever take over me pleasuring you! Do we understand?”

  Harley glared at him. Her heart pounded. She didn’t like this being tied up! Fear hurtled through her. “Screw you, and release me now!”

  Roark shook his head. “You will do as I say, or you will stay like this till you learn some goddamn manners, woman!”

  Harley growled and nipped at him.

  Roark backed away before her teeth tore into his neck. “Feisty. I like biting, too,” he shared, with her hands bound together and the bit of belt remaining harnessing her to the headboard he rolled her over, careful not to hurt her arms in the process. He hefted her ass up and Harley cringed.

  No way was she going to let this happen! Not with him. This wasn’t the Roark she knew. “You can’t do this, Roark! This is rape,” she cried, her body stiffening.

  Roark froze at her outcry. He looked at the back of her lowered head. His brow furrowed. “Harley…?” He rolled her over and saw thick tears edging her spiky black lashes. Holy fuck, he had scared her.

  Roark knelt over her to release her.

  The fear in Harley took over and her knee lifted and met with his groin. Panic streaked through her. She needed to act and act fast before he could do his worst. She was sure he would just tighten the fuckin’ belt. She would get out of this somehow.

  “Fuck!” he growled, pain searing through him at the contact. He coughed and hunched over, every curse going through his head. He reached for her.

  Harley screamed out, bucking against him. Terror filled her. She was tied down, and he outweighed her by at least eighty pounds. “Get off me now!” she yelled, yanking at the belt he had tied her to the headboard with.

  Roark groaned, slamming his body to hers. He pinned her down, stopping her hands. He inhaled a few deep breaths, steadying the gruesome pain from between his legs. He closed his eyes and opened them to her tear-stained face.

  “Harley…swear woman, I’m going to spank you so hard for that.” He reached up and unloosed the belt. “Don’t you dare try to run, woman,” he uttered, massaging her wrists.

  Harley cringed. What the fuck was he doing? She just kneed him in the balls and he was making sure her wrists were okay? “What in the fuck is the matter with you?” she demanded.

  Roark inhaled a calming breath. “So much for fucking your sweet cunt… Fuck, Harley, do you have to be so fucking rough?” he grunted, straddling her. No woman seemed to like it when he did this. Harley didn’t seem to mind. Mind you, at this moment he had other things on his mind to do. Like cupping his beaten balls and crying like a fucking baby.

  He looked down at her then at her wrists. “You broke skin in your struggle, silly woman. Shit, Harley, what in the fuck! You think I would fucking rape you?” He was gentle as he massaged her reddened wrists.

  “You had me tied down and you had every intention—”

  “Of licking your pussy till you begged me to fuck you! Never assume that I would go shove my dick in your cunt when you hadn’t reached your level of readiness,” he growled.

  Harley shut her mouth and stared at him. He wasn’t going to fuck her in that position? He had had every intention of bringing her pleasure? She shook her head. “You were rough,” she accused.

  “Did I hurt you when I flipped you over?”

  Harley shook her head. “Doesn’t mean you weren’t going to when you had me over,” she argued.

  Roark sighed and stopped. He held her smaller hands in his. He loved her hands. Had felt these hands caress his face, seen them bandage up men swiftly and accurately. Seen them take life and return life to some.

  He kissed her wrists. “I would never hurt you, Harley.”

  Harley stared up at him, and the passion in his voice did weird things to her insides. “You were rough,” she uttered. That was a weak argument. She’d been just as aggressive out in the kitchen.

  He moved back, cringing, which made her cringe. She had brought that hurt upon him. He held his body above hers. “So were you, Harley…you think I would have been rough with you if you didn’t want it that way?”

  Harley frowned. She had been a little pushy, but he was a big man and could take some roughhousing. Shit, the other lovers she’d had could never take her tugging on them like she had him. They would have whined and told her to ease up. He hadn’t. He had fed her hunger like no other had.

  “You scared me!” she muttered.

  Roark dipped close, his lips whispering over hers. “I had no intention of scaring you, Harley…You are the strongest woman I know. I didn’t think this would have scared you.” He cupped her jaw. “Were you raped?” he asked right out.

  Harley grunted. “No…” Not that men hadn’t tried. It was fucked up, what a desperate man would do in the middle of the jungle after months of being crouched in the dirt and his mind leaving him.

  Roark growled. “Who tried?” he demanded.

  Harley grunted, shoving at him. “Get off me,” she ordered.

  Roark narrowed his eyes. Someone dared hurt his Harley! He released her and rolled over with a grunt.

  Harley lay for a moment, coldness covering her naked body. She wanted his heat back. She looked at him. “None of your business, and I’m sorry.” She bit her lower lip between her teeth.

  She furrowed her brows in afterthought. “Thought there were some stupid safe words that you were supposed to use,” she grumbled, grabbing the blanket at the end of the bed and hugging it around her chilled body.

  She rubbed her aching wrists, wishing his large, warm hands were ministering them again.

  Chapter Three

  Roark watched as she slipped from the bed, the blanket covering her. “Red,” he called.

  Harley looked back at him over her naked shoulder. She should have known that. It was the most common safe word she had heard. She stumbled over his clothes and managed to right herself. “How did you get here so quick, anyway?” she grumbled.

  Roark relaxed back, lacing his fingers behind his head. Shit, she had a comfy bed. He released a breath. Yes, focus on the comfy bed, not the pain radiating from your package, man. “Was walking down the street,” he offered.

  Harley snorted. “Bullshit. I know when you’re lying,” she threw back at him. She’d worked close enough to him to know him better.

  Roark smirked. “’Kay, I was scoping out your place. You know your neighbor has a warrant on his head?”

  Harley grunted. “Job, yeah, probably. I know how to handle him,” she huffed, grabbing her kimono from the silver knob on the closet. She let the blanket drop and slipped it on.

  “You’re seriously paranoid about how I see you naked?” he asked, now on his side, resting on his elbow, watching her every move.

  Harley looked back at him. He was a sexy sight laid out on her bed, his muscles bunching. “No! I just like to be a bit groomed before I go shoving myself on a man,” she grumbled.

  Roark chuckled. “Shit, you’re just as grumpy at home as you is out on the job.” He lay back, giving his wounded dick a rub. “Should make you kiss it all bette
r, you meanie,” he said, looking at the ceiling. He could see the florescent green stars up there. He wondered if they glowed in the dark. His nephew had them on his ceiling and had the shape of a tank. Harley’s were obviously the constellations.

  Harley stood next to the bed, looking over his limp dick. Shit, who would have thought Mr. Hurt had him a tool like this. All limp, it was even thick and long, veined and loose skinned. It looked intimidating. She could still feel that exquisite hardness against her pussy as if branded to her flesh. She reached out and dragged her finger along his loose flesh, smiling as it jerked to life. “Not broken, doesn’t need kissing,” she assured, stepping away with grace that any Dom would be envious of.

  Roark snorted. “Doesn’t matter if it still works—it’s the fact that you caused it harm. I kissed your boo-boos better, and that was technically not my fault, but yours,” he shot back.

  Harley snorted. “You’re the idiot who tied me up!”

  Roark sat up. “And you shouldn’t have freaked out.” He paused and narrowed his eyes on her. “Did you even mean it when you told Laird you trusted me with your life?”

  Harley looked at him. “I do trust you with my life! I have, too,” she uttered, hands on her round hips.

  Roark shook his head. “That wasn’t what he meant, Harley, and you know it!”

  Harley rolled her eyes. “Are you leaving? I’m tired and most definitely tired of dealing with you!”

  Roark shook his head. “No I’m not leaving,” he offered, flipping back the blankets and getting comfy.

  Harley glared at him. “You’re not sleeping in my bed!”

  Roark laughed. “Move me then, baby,” he dared, relaxing back.

  Harley clenched her teeth. She would kill him! She swore she would kill him, then she would haul his big goddamn hot body…wait…no she would fuck him first, then kill him. There was no way she was passing up fucking that dick. He would fill her up so exquisitely. She shivered.

  Roark smirked. “See you’re thinking about me again,” he drawled.

  Harley snorted. “Not you, your dick, shithead,” she informed him, flipping back the blankets. She flicked off the light and crawled in. Within seconds, he had her kimono off and tossed across the room, and his thick arms wrapped around her in a vise grip.

  “Please don’t take to kneeing me again, or you’ll never get to fuck the dick you oh so desire,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her temple and settling into the comforts of her bed.

  * * * *

  It was the flexing of large muscles that woke her first, and then the light whisper of cursing. She wiggled until she faced him and furrowed her brow at the tense look on his face. She cupped his jaw and the tension eased from his features. One of the many consequences of serving their country, the horrible nightmares that followed them when they reached home.

  She leaned up and kissed his forehead. “Sweet dreams, Roark,” she whispered in a soft order. He relaxed, and his arms circled her and hugged her close. A soft kiss to her temple, and he was breathing softly.

  Harley laid there for a long time watching him sleep, committing to memory every contour of his face. She was sure he only had a few years on her, but he seemed so much older when he was at work. She snuggled close and tucked her head under his chin, inhaling his scent, one arm bent and nestled between them, the other wrapped around his middle, and her hand splaying over his lower back. His hand lowered and cupped her ass, and shit if it didn’t feel right.

  By morning, she was fully sprawled over his body, her hair strewn across his face and his morning wood flush to her pussy. She shifted, sighing. “Mmmm…” She rubbed her pussy along his length and enjoyed the good morning bliss. Big hands cupped her ass and guided her.

  “Please do not get the hankering to knee me again, baby,” he whispered, his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass.

  “Not a chance, baby,” she shot back at him. Surely, he knew she hated that endearment. All the boys called her that when she was being cheeky with them. She reached and passed him, opening the drawer to her nightstand, grasping for the three-pack she always had on hand. She grunted, feeling nothing but empty bottom.

  She shifted, causing a groan from Roark and his hands to tighten. She looked into the drawer and growled. “I’m going to kill her!” she uttered, opening the second drawer. Shit, even her backup was gone. “Motherfucker!” She hopped from the bed and picked up the phone.

  She rushed from the room, phone to ear. “Swear to God, Layle, the next time I see you and your man, I’m gonna beat the shit out of both of you! Use my condoms, have the decency to replace them.” She hung up and grabbed up Roark’s wallet. She headed back to the room and tossed it at him.

  Roark raised a brow. “You actually expect me to continue after that little charade of childishness?” he asked.

  Harley stared at him. “You’re joking, right?” she asked, dumbfounded.

  Roark hopped from the bed. “Baby, I would have been happy coming all over you. I know how to offer a good finger-fucking when my girl needs one.”

  Harley scoffed. “Your girl?” she questioned. “I’m not your girl!”

  Roark snickered at the absurd look on her face. He tugged up his pants, tucking his erection in. “Yeah you are. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better off you’ll be,” he offered, passing her and leaving her room. Shit, it wasn’t often that he passed up a hot little body like hers, but she needed to learn to cool it and realize there were plenty of ways to reach gratification.

  Harley glared after him. She looked down at her naked body after he left the room. Doubt filled her. He hadn’t even looked at her. Didn’t reach out to her, nothing! Asshole!

  Roark looked through her fridge, grabbing out the carton of eggs, some bacon, and a couple of oranges.

  Harley huffed in the room shoving him out of her kitchen. “Like you own the fucking place,” she uttered, grabbing a rather large knife.

  Roark stepped back, watching as she sliced the orange up neatly, placed the slices on a plate, and set them in the middle of the island. “I would have made you breakfast,” he offered, taking a seat on the opposite side of the island.

  “Yes I’m sure you would have,” she muttered, bringing out two pans.

  “Harley, come on, knock off the childish attitude and get over your superior self. You know I would never overtake your authority on the job.”

  Harley looked back at him. “Tell me something, young pup. How would you react to handing your control over and then having to turn that back on in the line of duty?”

  Roark nodded. He could understand that. He’d had those same feelings when he had started out as a Dom. When his mentor had told him to experience the position of a bottom, he had refused, having the same argument. He considered her for a moment. “Can we try an experiment?” he asked, elbows on the table and chin resting on his fisted hands.

  Harley looked at him, one pan in hand, a flipper in the other. “What kind of experiment?” she dared.

  Roark straightened out. “You let me dominate you, and you can dominate me…”

  Harley shook her head. “No.”

  Roark nodded. “Fine, you dominate me and I will show you that you can take your power back.”

  Harley narrowed her eyes. It had to be a trick.

  “I have a dungeon at my place. I will walk you through the basics, and even though you have no experience, I will trust you with my safety being in your inexperienced hands.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for her answer.

  Harley considered him, then turned to her cooking.

  Roark waited and watched as she made breakfast. The facial features that strung across her face were adorable. The way she chewed on her plump lower lip. The way her eyebrows scrunched up.

  “Explain it to me,” she finally murmured as she scrambled the eggs, grabbing out a couple of pita wraps.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked, perking up.

  Harley furrowed her brow.
“Are you like one of those guys that gets off on hurting women?” That was the stupidest question! It was obvious he didn’t get off on causing that kind of harm.

  Roark shook his head. “I get off on a woman bowing to me, giving me her trust to handle her needs…The idea that a woman will bow and obey me and trust me to take care of her is what it’s about, for me.”

  Harley frowned at him. “You could just take over my job and you will have that all the time,” she offered.

  Roark smiled, shaking his head. “You’re not getting it.” He rounded the island. “Command me to do whatever you want me to do at this very moment, and be very blunt…exactly what you want,” he coaxed.

  Harley looked at him. Shit, all she wanted at that moment was his mouth on hers. “Kiss me.”

  Roark smiled. “Hard? Soft? Tongue? A little peck on the cheek…?”

  Harley blushed. Shit, she couldn’t tell him how to do it!

  Roark grinned. “Flip your eggs,” he ordered, stepping back.

  Harley did so without a thought. She turned the heat down and flipped the bacon, and turned the heat down there as well. She turned back to Roark.

  He reached out and ran a finger down her cheek. “When I left the bed, you had every opportunity to tell me to get back in and tell me how you wanted me…you didn’t. You stood there, unsure of yourself.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip.

  “Had it been reversed, you would not have left the bed. Had you left the bed, I would have ordered you to the middle of it, to lift your ass, press your chest to the bed, and then swatted you five times for your disobedience. Then I would have eaten you out.” He let his hand trail down her neck. “Finger-fucked you till you came screaming.” He cupped her breast and gave her a hard squeeze. “Brought you around a second time, then taken from you what you wanted…release.”

  Harley stared wide-eyed at him. He released her heavy breast. “Finish breakfast and we’ll talk more.” He took his seat and watched as she finished up their breakfast, placing a plate in front of him.

  “You wouldn’t have fucked me, then?” she asked as she settled next to him.