Pulse

by Angel Payne

  Her mirth is mesmerizing. I don’t stop staring at her even while lifting the succulent satin to my nose and inhaling long and deep. “Keep the hankie for cleaning up after I’m done with you.”

  The mirth drains as fast as it came. Now, her eyes blaze at me with the intensity of one need alone, feeding every corresponding desire that pounds back with equal ferocity from my blood. As she slides her hands in, dipping beneath my collar to pull at the ends of my hair, she squeaks out, “Wh-What’s term number two?”

  After stuffing the panties into my pocket, I secure my hold on her thighs, though this time, it’s at the spot halfway to her knees, where I finger the tidy double bows into which she’s tied the leather cords of her insanely sexy shoes. My fiddling isn’t playful, an intention she picks up on at once. As I jerk one cord free, the air in her throat snags sharply. As the laces loosen and tumble down her leg, that sound becomes a tight choke.

  I skate my hand down to the puddle of leather near her ankle. As I start winding the cords around four fingers, I plunge my stare into hers. I soak up every glittering, gorgeous depth I see, certain that her eyes rival the gem on her finger for crystalline brilliance.

  I need to add even more to their fire.

  I need to give her pure electricity.

  Dear fuck, I can’t wait.

  I twist the ties even tighter. With my other hand, I dig harder into her other leg. Emma’s eyes and nostrils flare, but she says nothing. My breathtaking warrior bunny is hell-bent on proving she’s ready for this. That she’s ready for anything.

  In another world, she’d be such a kick-ass superhero.

  But not in this one.

  Never in this one.

  Not as long as I’m still alive—and goddamnit, I plan on that being a long, long time.

  The closest she ever gets to the shit in this life is attending this crazy soirée with my monster of a father, and only because it can’t be helped. Asking her to kiss me goodbye when I’m off to take care of misdemeanor thugs is one thing; ordering her to stay and “watch the cave” when it’s Godzilla I’ll be facing is another. If the proverbial shoe were on the other foot, I’d already be throwing the damn thing through the window before we even left the apartment tonight.

  So, fair is fair.

  And for now, she’s on the team.

  But there will be terms.

  And she will abide by them.

  Just to make sure I drive in that point with precise clarity, I rise up to a full kneel and crowd deeper into her personal space—including the open V between her thighs. She reacts in kind, angling back until her head bonks against the curtain-covered window and she’s wetting her lips, clearly expecting that I won’t stop…

  But I do.

  Several inches over her face, where I can still absorb what my nearness is doing to her—really doing to her—now. Where I can watch what happens as I unspool the leather shoe tie, slowly and deliberately, into tight spirals up her leg. Where I can gauge if she likes it when I repeat in a smoldering snarl, “Nonnegotiable.” As soon as she nods, I demand, “Say it, Emma.”

  One hard gulp. Then that Imperator Furiosa uptilt of her chin, determined to meet me move for move on this, even if she’s got to do it with one arm. “Nonnegotiable,” she calmly states.

  I draw in a deep breath. Then issue with matching certainty, “You’re on the mission for the whole night—as long as you stay by my side the whole night. If anything goes sideways about this thing, and I don’t care if it’s a speck of pepper on the linen or one off-timed moment about the service, you agree to leave the event on my first command.”

  At first, she really looks ready to give her Furiosa fuller rein. Her gaze narrows; the cords in her neck go taut. But suddenly—and, I admit, eerily—she’s all peaceful waters and spa candles again, to the point of slipping her hands free from my neck and lolling them against the top of the couch’s cushion on either side of her head. Naturally, the little minx is aware of what that does to my view of her chest, so I don’t hide the obvious evidence either. With lust-thickened eyes, I drink in the perfect landscape of her firm, flawless hills, jutting straight at me with their shiny red crowns. At the same time, I advance deeper into her most intimate zone, tapping at the mound between her legs with the zipper throbbing between mine.

  She rewets her lips.

  I slam mental duct tape over my groan.

  “But what if I have to go to the restroom?”

  Christ. Now she’s tugging those sweet pink pillows beneath her teeth. “Then you wait for Foley or me to take you. Period.”

  “Will I need a hall pass too?”

  And now, damn it, giving Furiosa a dose of naughty schoolgirl. Fuck me.

  “You’ll need Foley or myself.” I’d like to say my tight-teethed Mad Max is an indication everything under my hood is hunky-dory, but it’d be a lie. I’m desperate to know how far toward cheeky she really wants to push here. I’m burning to know how far she’ll let me push. “Is that understood?”

  She twirls her hair with a finger. “If you take me, do you get to come in with me?” A smirk plays with one edge of her mouth. “You are a lot of fun in bathrooms, Mr. Richards.”

  “And you’re a lot of sass on boats, Miss Crist.”

  I underline it with just enough resolve that she curiously eyes me for a second, but then she’s back to twisting that hand through her mussed strands, too pleased with herself to realize that once I push up, using the ball of my shoulder in the crook of her knee, her hand and mine are inches apart. And still twined in my fingers? The leather laces, now in a perfect position for—

  “Whaaaa?”

  Her shriek, though a surprise when it doesn’t shatter the champagne glasses, is one of the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard the woman gush. When her stunned chokes follow, I’m glad my head is already dipped to supervise getting the ties looped all the way around her knee and wrist together before twisting them a few times and separating them for another pass underneath. I cinch the bond with a simple knot, guaranteeing I can set her free with one yank, though it’s impossible for her to reach the ties at all.

  I swivel and then dig my other shoulder into her corresponding knee, though now I throw more might into the effort. I’ve lost the element of surprise and anticipate her initial struggle.

  “R-Reece!”

  “Emma?” I thread it with a little pleasure, easily subduing her feisty kick—which barely qualifies as a struggle at all. Maybe she already knows her gig is up now that I have a full view of her open core—and every dazzling drop of nectar with which it’s already seeping for me.

  Does Furiosa the schoolgirl like a little detention?

  Then call me Professor Richards.

  “Wh-What the hell are you doing?”

  I lift my head—but only to give her a second’s worth of my determined smirk before smashing her with a conquering kiss. When she mewls around my tongue, I snarl around hers, rolling my head to taste her even deeper, even harder. Jesus God, she tastes so good. A little bit of French wine. A little bit more of French night. A whole lot of passionate American woman.

  The better part of a minute later, I finally lift from her lips but stay hovered over her face. With my hands freed again, I emulate the liquid swells beneath us with the rhythm of my strokes. Up and down her graceful curves I go, reveling in every texture from the glide of her neck to the fullness of her breasts to the dip of her navel…and then lower.

  “I’m making sure you understand the contract, baby.”

  Her eyes widen. “Like this?”

  “It’s a valid business practice, Miss Crist.” I lean down, kissing the pebble at the tip of her left breast. Her right. “Come on. You haven’t been out of hotel management that long. It’s called managing the client.”

  She wriggles, her lips parting, only to give me a great view of her locked teeth. “I don’t think this is in any approved management manual.”

  “Maybe it should be.” I roam my lips higher, across h
er chin and bottom lip, while sending my fingers lower…starting to explore much different lips. “Especially when they’re being nervy about the most important contract terms.” Though dear God, with a pussy as soft and soaked as this, no wonder the woman thought she could get away with her sarcasm…

  “Nervy?” she huffs. “What the hell? I was just having a little— Ohhhh!”

  As she groans and writhes, I grin and suckle—before twisting my hand to penetrate her deeper with two of my fingers. “That’s what I said, my wicked little one.” I savor her next moan even more, flattening my tongue along her neck as its vibrations take over her throat. “Dear fuck, yes. So wicked. So illicit. So open for me. And you fucking love it.”

  “Ohhhh.” It reverberates up from her chest this time, halting as her throat clenches up—at the same moment I add a third finger to my carnal invasion. At once, she’s drenching me all over again. And writhing harder. And trembling deeper. “God. Yes.” Her syllables are more croaks than words, forced from a mouth that’s gone dry from gasping and screaming for me.

  But I want more.

  All the air in her lungs.

  All the honey in her pussy.

  All the submission in her body.

  All the surrender in her soul.

  I rear up again, watching waves of heat and awakening chase each other across her face despite how she’s let her head fall back and her mouth gape open. “Emma,” I bark, relishing how her eyes obediently pop open. “Lift your head. Look at me.” But as soon as she complies, I damn near regret the call. One look into the thick glaze of her brilliant blues, and my cock nearly loses its load in my pants. “Oh fuck, beauty.” My wry laugh is my rescue, helping to stay the embarrassing burst. As I pull my hand out from her channel, needing every finger I can get to help with grappling at my belt and fly, I chuckle out from my own parched throat, “I’ve corrupted the hell out of you, haven’t I?”

  She tilts her head. Licks her lips. A hint of humor swirls into the dazzling oceans of her eyes. “Said the spider to the fly?”

  “No.” It’s such a virulent grind from my lips, matching the angry red length of my dick, that it almost breaks off into two syllables. Appropriate, since this fucker is throbbing so painfully, I wonder if it will break off before reaching the salvation of her body. “Not the fly.” I wrap my hands around her thighs and pull her closer. I kiss her tenderly and then forcefully. Then, with our lips still pressed and her breasts pillowed against my chest, dictate to her, “My butterfly.”

  She curls her lips upward. “Who’s still in your corruptible trap.”

  A shudder racks my whole body. It’s not just her teasing words. It’s her gorgeous, sultry tone. And her bound, spread body. And her eager, high sighs. And the gleaming, wet slit of her tight, intimate entrance…waiting for me…waiting…

  With a feral snarl, I grip her by the waist. With a crushing roar, I yank her in.

  Ramming her all the way down onto my cock.

  “Shit!” Emma screams.

  “Fuck!” I bellow at the same perfect second.

  “Oh…my God,” she rasps during the excruciating moments I take to pull out and hiss in approval as my cock flares and gleams, coated from crown to balls with the gleaming evidence of her arousal. “You are corrupting me.”

  I wait for her gaze to drag open and find my face before shaking my head, once more copying the motion of the ageless river beneath us. “No, baby. This part is called teaching you.”

  Though I long to kiss her again, especially as she parts her lips as if to prep a perfect zinger of sass, I do one better. While pulling her back onto my length, I join in with a vicious lunge forward, ensuring my cockhead has now said hello to her eye sockets. She starts a scream, but now I give in to the lust for a kiss, filling her mouth with the ferocious domination of my tongue and lips and teeth.

  “Now,” I grate, despite the huge heaves of my billowing lungs, “we’re going to review the contract clause you seem to be having a few problems with.”

  “I—” she gasps out. “I…I don’t h-have any prob— Ahhhhh!”

  I can’t help tossing a wolfish smile as I watch the effects of my actions across her squirming form. She strains her hands at the ties, rolling her wrists and curling her fingers. She’s tossed her head back again, exposing the cords of her neck for the possession of my bites. Her stomach and abdomen are clenched, indicating how tightly she’s constricting her pelvic muscles to milk every inch of my surging, sizzling dick.

  My gorgeous, sweet girl.

  Her open, hot obedience.

  My wrecked, obliterated heart.

  Now who’s in submission to whom?

  The answer is clear as I work harder to bring her the best fulfillment she’s ever had. With full rolls of my hips and targeted drives of my cock, my world becomes focused on her world. On searing every corner of her, from the inside out, with the fire of my body, the devotion of my soul, and the commitment of my command. And as a result, the freedom she can claim…the pleasure she can now fly to…

  “We’re going to review anyway, Bunny.” I secure her attention again by easing out until only my tip is still encased in her body. With defined undulations, I circle my stalk around and around, slicking every sensitive surface of her gorgeous, glistening opening. “You have to be clear about all this.” I latch her gaze with the intensity of mine. “I swear to God, Emma, I will keep you safe when we go do this fucking thing.”

  Just when I thought the woman couldn’t bemuse me anymore, her little half smile proves me wrong. “Aren’t we doing this ‘fucking thing’ already?”

  A burst of a chuckle—again, beyond my expectations or control. But I get even by feeding her another inch of my erection, savoring the loud groan from her lips and the wet grab from her pussy. “Oh, baby,” I drawl. “This is just the starter course.”

  Her moan turns into a needy hum. “Th-The…oh, God.”

  I notch a small shrug. My shirt goes nowhere, sticking to my skin, but I don’t give a crap. If anything, my lust spikes higher from the reminder that I’m still mostly clothed while my precious fuck bunny is completely naked. She’s my priceless treasure to protect. My unique gem to guard. “I’ve got no problem with God,” I quip. “Invite him in—if he’ll help you remember our terms better.”

  “Damn it,” she fires back. “I already remember, okay? I”—she interrupts herself with a gasp as I slide another inch into her—“I remember!”

  “Good.” And another inch. I’m nearly all the way back in, and my leisurely pace is turning her into a writhing, mindless mess. Exactly how I want her. “Then you’ll have no trouble reciting it all back for me.”

  “Reciting…it…” Her comeback is broken up as she thrashes her head left and right. With each sweep, her tunnel pulls harder at my cock. As I swell and jerk, I’m unable to hold back my precome any longer. As those first drops spread through her womb, she cries out in desperate agony. “Oh…oh, God!”

  Low growl. “He’s not doing a good job of helping you remember, Velvet.”

  “I remember!” she yells.

  “Then fucking tell me!” I bellow back.

  “I…I can’t think—”

  “Yes, you can. And you will.” I scrape my hands down her thighs and hook my fingers beneath the leather ties to use the bonds as brutal leverage for my quickening thrusts. “You’ll give me the words, Emma. All of them. And don’t you dare come yet.”

  She whips her head back to center. Drives the gleaming blue blades of her glare into me. “Or. What?”

  I almost laugh. Oh, fucking hell, this woman and her constant, vibrant fire. And I thought I’d never meet a female who could handle my mutant passion, let alone eclipse it.

  Channeling my mirth into a buzz saw of a snarl, I loom inches over her face before ordering, “Do. Not. Come.” Making good on the threat in my words, I withdraw until all she’s getting is the bulb at my tip again. “Not before you give me the words.”

  She gasps. Shakes.
Incinerates even more of my being with the smoky side of her fire and brimstone. Holy fuck. She doesn’t have to summon God. She is my god, and now she’s going to rain her beautiful, blazing destruction on every last corner of me. Perhaps she already has.

  “I…I won’t wander off,” she breathlessly rasps. “I won’t leave your side for a damn moment, Reece. I promise. I promise.”

  Her plaintive oath is still a ribbon of sweet smoke through my system, though now I wonder what she’s laced the vapors with. Does it really matter? I only know I’m so fucking high on her submission. Utterly wasted from her compliance.

  “R-Reece?”

  I slide my cock all the way back inside her. Groan hard as her walls close over me, dragging a few more drops of precome from my lurching length. I do it one more time, a hard slam and then a pulsing throb, before dictating to her, “Say it again. Tell me you promise, Emma.”

  “I promise,” she declares at once, lifting her face to be closer to me. “I promise, I promise. I won’t even use the damn bathroom without you. I promise!”

  Her words are starting to spew more as gasps than volume. As those breaths race faster and faster, her chest pumps urgently at mine, and I can feel her erect nipples even through the cotton blend of my shirt.

  I grip her bonds tighter. Drive into her pussy harder.

  “You mean it, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she pants back. “Yes. Every word.” Her mouth barely forms around the vow. She’s breathing like we’re sprinting, her hairline a gleam of sweat, her shoulders taut as she braces for my pounding, punching thrusts. “I love you, Reece. I love you.”

  “And I worship you.” My declaration is a growling rush against her lips just before I spear my tongue between them, claiming the cavity of her mouth as ruthlessly as my cock invades her womb. “And now I’m going to fill you. Your entire exquisite cunt. All of it, damn it!”

  “Yes!” She lurches her head up again, seeking my mouth with her own again, only not for another kiss. She bites at me like a leaping shark at escaping prey, taking any purchase she can get with brutal passion. And I let her. Dear fuck, we’ll probably both look like we jumped off this boat instead of fucked on it, but the bruises will be worth it.