Blue Blooded (2 page)

“All from a little rope?”

“No,” he said, backing her up against the wall. He caged her in, his right hand resting above her head and the other stroking her hip. “From the heart-pumping, thigh-clenching, eye-rolling orgasms I'd give you while you were bound and gagged.”

Her breath stalled in her chest as the image he suggested flashed before her eyes, threatening to steal the tightly reined control she kept on herself. Then she remembered most men were full of shit. Plenty of others had promised to rock her world in the bedroom and not one had ever succeeded. “Pretty cocky, Soldier Boy. Too bad there's no way you'll ever get to deliver.”

He lowered his head, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers. “Afraid to try, Tiger?”

Afraid? She'd gone skydiving. Swum with sharks. Interviewed serial killers. “What are you, twelve? If I decide to try something, it's because it will help with the story I'm working on and not because of your not-so-subtle manipulation.”

He frowned. “I take it you're still planning on doing the exposé, huh? I know Cole agreed to an interview, but he's never going to allow a news crew inside Benediction or speak on camera for you.”

She didn't believe in the word
never
.

She pushed him back with her hands on his chest, allowing them to linger long enough to feel his muscles ripple under her palms. “That's because he doesn't understand how this will benefit those who engage in the BDSM lifestyle. The majority of Americans view it as a dangerous perversity, and that's because it's kept secret. Knowledge is power. If it were brought out into the open, people would see some of it already finds its way into their own bedrooms.”

His jaw tensed, his lips tightening. “You may have fooled your boss into believing that angle of yours, but you're not going to fool Cole and you certainly haven't fooled me. Sex sells. You want to do this story to boost your own career, not to help the BDSM community.”

What was wrong with a woman fighting to become the best in her field? She was so sick of men telling her there was something wrong with her because she didn't do relationships or seek a husband. As if the fact she was closing in on thirty years old should scare her into wanting more with a man than just a one-night stand. The men she fucked got an orgasm, and she got information. In the ten years since she'd left her parents' home, a few men had tried to tame her, but she was out the door before they could get their pants zipped. No one would ever turn her into a spineless woman like her mother.

Realizing her hands were still on his chest, she let them drop to her side. “Can't a girl do both? After all, true altruism doesn't exist. I could be like all the other reporters and uncover the true danger of the underground debauchery, but instead I'm planning on showing a positive view of it.”

He grabbed her wrists and brought them over her head. “How can you do that without experiencing it firsthand?”

R
ACHEL
'
S HEART BEGAN
to race, excitement thrumming through her veins. “I'm here, aren't I?”

“Just walking the floors of Benediction doesn't make you a part of it. Until you surrender, you'll never understand the truth of the lifestyle.”

“You're making quite the assumption, Soldier Boy.” She brought her knee up to the level of his crotch and pressed it against him as a threat. “Maybe I'm the one who likes to be in control.”

He glanced down at her knee before smiling and shaking his head disbelievingly. “I'm sure you tell yourself that,
Tiger
, but that's only because you're not strong enough to surrender.”

“What's wrong with being the Dominant?”

His smile disappeared, his expression growing serious. “Nothing if that's what fulfills you.” He released his grip on her wrists, and in an odd display of what she would believe was tenderness coming from a different man, tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “But don't you want to know what it's like on the other side? I promise, I'll keep you safe. You can even keep your clothes on.”

She could count on one hand the people she trusted completely, but since Logan would never jeopardize his friendship with Kate, she at least trusted him not to harm her.

Besides, wasn't that why she was here? She wanted to know what it was like to be a part of this world, what drew her friends to this lifestyle. She didn't get off on pain, and she couldn't imagine enjoying submission, but bondage fascinated her. Some of the photos she'd seen of Japanese rope bondage were absolutely beautiful, more artistic than sexual.

And if she was honest with herself, she wanted to know what Logan did to earn him a bondage bunny fan club.

Rachel eased her knee off his dick and lowered her leg to the floor. “Fine. I'll try it. For the story. Will you talk me through it? Explain what you're doing?”

He blinked a few times as if he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. “Will I be explaining it to Rachel the woman or Rachel the reporter?”

How could she answer when she didn't know herself? She took a step back, needing some distance from him in order to maintain a clear head. “Does it matter?”

He smiled as if he knew what she was doing. “I thought you were braver than that, Tiger.”

Logan may have left the US Army, but it had left its mark on him. He stood like a soldier at attention, his spine tall and his shoulders rigid. In the heat of the moment during one of their many banters, she'd lobbed the nickname “Soldier Boy” at him, to which he'd thrown back the nickname “Tiger” at her.

“Why do you call me Tiger?” she asked.

His tongue swiped across his lower lip, leaving it glistening. “Tigers are cunning, ferocious . . . with cutting claws and a razor-sharp bite. They go after what they want.” Taking away the precious space she so desperately required to stay in control, he inched closer.

That's how he saw her? As a dangerous predator?

She moved to push him away, but he trapped her wrists in his hands.

His gaze burned into her. “But they're also sleek and stunning creatures who are fighting to survive just like all the other animals in the wild jungle.”

Although she was dressed, she felt completely exposed, as if he could see straight into the heart of her. And that terrified her. If he could scratch underneath her surface with such ease, what would happen if she ever let her guard down with him? Was her desire to feel his ropes on her worth the risk?

Yes. After all, she was apparently a tiger, and tigers were brave.

She puffed out a breath before admitting the truth as to which Rachel he'd bind tonight. “Both. I'm doing this mostly for the story, but I'm doing it for me as well.”

A slight smile played at the corners of his lips. He picked the rope off the table and grabbed his duffle then, taking her by the elbow, brought her over to part of the dungeon that wasn't being used.

Her gaze fell onto the wooden spanking bench. She hoped he wasn't thinking of putting her over that thing.

He squeezed the crook of her arm lightly. “We're not going to do anything other than bondage. I just chose this area because it was empty. Sadomasochism and discipline aren't my kinks. I tie women up and give them so much pleasure, they think they'll die from it.”

The idea was hot, but she knew he was full of shit. Yeah, an orgasm was nice, but it was a minute of pleasurable tension followed by a few seconds of pulsing. Nothing to write home about. She smoothed her fingers over the rope, surprised by its softness. “And what about your pleasure? Do you fuck the women when they're tied up?”

“Occasionally, but it's not about the sex. My pleasure comes from the power of having her at my mercy and from holding her trust in my hands.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if merely holding her trust in his hands gave him an orgasm, but when he began sliding the rope over his hands, she became distracted.

“Any health concerns I should know about? Circulation problems? Any issue with claustrophobia or anxiety?”

“No physical or mental health issues,” she said, wondering if he was this invasive with all the women he played with. And according to her friend Gracie, Cole's former slave, he played with a lot.

He folded the rope into two pieces. “This is hemp rope. I'm going to do a basic breast bondage.” He came up behind her and gripped her shoulders tightly. “I want you to get a sense of what it feels like.”

His hands skated down to her upper back and then circled her torso, sliding around her rib cage, just under her breasts. She held her breath, the view of his large, capable hands on her body stirring up those darned butterflies in her belly again. Realizing if he moved his thumbs just a bit he could flick her nipples, a shot of arousal coursed through her, sending her pulse soaring.

His cheek whispered across her own as he leaned over her shoulder. “You okay? Your heart is racing.”

“Yeah,” she said, remembering to breathe. “My heart's always fast.”

She felt his lips tug up in a smile against her cheek, but he didn't call her out on her lie. He also didn't touch her nipples, but instead returned to her back as he pulled the rope toward her spine. Then, before she could recover, his hands were above her breasts and she sucked in a breath, her nipples stiffening almost painfully.

This wasn't happening. She couldn't be attracted to Logan Bradford. The ex-soldier now defense attorney was the opposite of what she needed in a man. It didn't matter that he was sexy with a body that she'd like to strip and lick from head to toe. He was also arrogant, condescending, and too damn dominant. So why was she suddenly slick between her legs?

His motions stopped and she heard him take in his own ragged breath. “Do you want more?”

Her breasts felt swollen and heavy, more sensitive, the lace of her bra almost abrasive to them and her tingling nipples. She could barely manage to get her mouth working in order to answer. “Yes,” she choked out, her voice sounding raspy.

Why was her body responding this way? Was it because of the rope? Would she become aroused if anyone tied her up like this?

He picked up his duffle and, with his hand splayed along her lower back, directed her toward a different part of the dungeon. Until a few minutes ago, she'd been an observer, eliciting little attention from the members, but with the ropes adorning her breasts and Logan making a silent claim over her with his hand on her, she drew plenty of interest. While some of the members looked upon her with lustful appreciation, she didn't miss the spark of jealousy in the eyes of a couple of bleach blondes whom she'd wager were part of the unofficial Logan Bradford fan club.

As a reporter, she was used to having people watch her, but the television separated her from the audience. In here, she couldn't avoid their reactions, and judging by the dampness of her panties, she liked it. What did that say about her? Did she have a kinky side?

Logan stopped her in front of a mirrored wall and turned her to it. He stood behind her, the heat of his body warming her back. “Look at yourself. You're beautiful.”

In all the times she'd stared in the mirror, she'd never seen herself like this. Her skin was flushed, pink staining her cheeks, and the pupils of her brown eyes were dilated. The long strands of her dark hair draped over the rope, framing the sides of her breasts, which strained against her red blouse. Because the ropes lifted them better than any bra she'd ever worn, her jutting nipples pointed high and tight.

“Keep looking at yourself in the mirror. Watch while I bind your legs,” Logan said, his eyes catching hers in the mirror. He grabbed more rope from his bag and then kneeled in front of her, his head level with her breasts.

Heat surged through her. If her hands had been free, she might have given in to the urge to lay them on his chiseled cheeks or run her fingers through his short brown hair.

A burst of panic caused Rachel's heart to race. She wouldn't become another member of his bondage bunny fan club. Allowing him to tie her up may answer her deep-seated curiosity about bondage, but it didn't mean anything more. It couldn't mean anything more. She wouldn't let it.

A look of concentration befell him, his brows pulled down and his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. He folded the rope in half and looped it around her waist then peered up at her. “I need you to sit for the next part.”

Because she didn't have use of her hands, he helped her sit, placing one hand on her hip and one on her back, supporting her weight as she lowered herself to the floor. Once she was settled, he slowly glided his fingers up her ankle and over her calves. Chill bumps popped up on her arms as she let out a puff of air through her parted lips.

His eyes locked on hers, and he slid his hands between her thighs, stroking his thumb back and forth. “Open your legs for me.”

He crawled between and spread them wide, placing her feet flat on the floor. Without clothes, this position would've been obscene, her pussy open for anyone to see. Even dressed, she felt vulnerable. She didn't want to enjoy being out of control, but she couldn't ignore the way her body was responding to Logan and his ropes. Thank goodness he had no idea how wet she'd gotten since he'd begun touching her.

“I'm going to do an open-leg crab position on you called
Kaikyaku Kani
.” He bent her legs, pushing them toward her chest. He separated the two pieces of rope and ran one down the length of each leg before wrapping it around her thigh and shin three times.

Heat snaked to her pussy every time his skin brushed across hers. Her position stretched the fabric of her panties so that it rubbed against her clit, and a slow pulse in her core had her aching for relief. She burned to touch herself to relieve that ache, but with her hands bound behind her, she was powerless to do it.

Kneeling, Logan busily and methodically worked between her thighs, only inches from her pussy. Could he smell her arousal? Was binding her arousing him?

He crossed the rope from one end to the other and tied it with a hitch. He rocked back, taking his hands away from her body. Breathing heavily and looking down at the floor, he clenched and unclenched them, over and over. Then he shot to his feet and rummaged through his bag, coming back and kneeling before her once again, this time with a long pink vibrator in his hands.

“Rachel?” His eyes locked onto hers as he swallowed hard. “Can I use this on you? I'll honor your limits and use it over your clothes.”

It wouldn't work. It never did. As aroused as she was, she still wouldn't reach climax unless she rubbed her clitoris with her own fingers, and even then, there was only a fifty-fifty chance it would happen. She was a freak. Did she really want Logan and the rest of Benediction to know she couldn't orgasm?

Then again, did it really matter what anyone thought about her?

“Yes,” she said, deciding she was too aroused to pass on the chance of an orgasm. “You can use it on me.”

Logan didn't take his eyes off her as he flipped on the vibrator. The toy's buzzing sent a chill racing down her arms, and although she hadn't thought it was possible, her nipples beaded even tighter than before. Logan's gaze dipped to her chest. His nostrils flared as he moved closer to her and laid the tip of the vibrator on her nipple. Her pussy clenched around nothing, and a loud moan spilled from her lips.

He lazily brushed the vibrator over her nipple, back and forth, before moving to the other nipple and doing the same. She tried to close her legs, tried to pull her hands free, but she was immobile. Completely at his will unless she told him to stop.

She didn't want him to stop.

Their gazes locked and his lips inched closer to hers. He dragged the vibrator down her belly toward her waiting pussy, and she cried out when it rolled over her clit. He teased her, running it all the way down her spread slit before sliding it up again. With each pass of the toy across her clit, she felt herself edge closer and closer toward climax. The muscles inside her pussy tightened, her legs trembling.

Teasing her, he hovered his lips over hers, his warm breath mingling with her own. She wanted his mouth on hers. Wanted to know if he tasted as good as he looked. What would it take for him to kiss her?

“Please,” she whispered, pleading with her eyes.

His own hooded eyes darkened, his irises swallowed by his pupils. He cupped her cheek in his hand, skimming his thumb over her desperate lips. His mouth inched closer to hers, and she closed her eyes, ready for him.

“Sir Logan?” A voice she instantly recognized as her friend Gracie's broke the tension and popped the odd spell she was under.

Rachel's arousal slid away, taking any chance of orgasm with it. What had she been thinking? Thank goodness Gracie had interrupted.