Crash Into You (38 page)

Was everything going to fight him? With a sigh, he got to his knees and cleaned up the mess. Great, now his bathroom was going to smell like the hospital ward he wanted to forget. After tossing the soiled towel in the hamper, he finished bandaging his shoulder, and finally headed into the bedroom.

But he only had one foot on the carpet before he ground to a halt.

Sitting in the middle of his bed with her legs tucked under her, was Brynn. Naked, save for the red necktie fastened over her eyes and the small, flat box she held in her hands.

She gave a hesitant smile, apparently sensing his presence. “You all right? Sounded like a Quentin Tarantino movie in there.”

The longing that assaulted him sucked all the air from the room and almost brought him to his knees. But he didn’t dare move. “Brynn, what are you doing?”

“Giving you my answer.”

The golden lamplight of the room gilded every curve of her nudity, making her appear both goddess-like and vulnerably human all at the same time. He gripped the edge of the doorframe. The urge to touch her, hold her…
claim
her overwhelming him. But the soft glow couldn’t conceal the faint pink of the healing whip marks—a glaring reminder of the deeper, more pervasive scars that lay beneath the surface.

“Oh, sugar.” He walked to the bed, sat next to her, and untied the blindfold, barely resisting the instinct to pull her into his lap and cradle her. “You don’t have to do it this way. I love you. I only want another chance. I don’t need you to push yourself into this part before you’re ready.”

She blinked a few times, adjusting to the light, then held out the box. “I
am
ready.”

He took the gift from her, her words not lining up in his head. “I don’t understand.”

She gave him a rueful smile. “You were right about what you said in the hospital. I’m always giving you lectures about being true to who you are. That very first night when we made love all those years ago, I told you I wouldn’t be with you if you were going to deny your nature. And then I spent the next ten years denying mine.”

His heart seemed to pause mid-beat, and his fingers tightened around the box.

“Ever since the rape, I’ve tried to block the submissive part of myself. Not only because of the fear, but because of what I thought it said about me. Davis told me that night that I’d better get used to what he was doing because I was a born whore. That no decent woman would enjoy a man tying her up and hitting her.” She looked down at her hands. “And part of me knew he was trying to be cruel, to humiliate me, but another part of me believed him.”

His jaw clenched. “That fucking bastard.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “My career is teaching women to value themselves, to take pride in who they are, and to live the life they want. I thought what that meant for me was striving for some idealistic image I created in my head when I was a kid. But it’s not. I’m proud of the person I’ve become. I’m good at what I do, have great friends, and have made a nice life for myself.”

He smiled and pushed a wisp of hair from her face.

She lifted her eyes to him. “But I’m also a girl who gets all wobbly-kneed when her man demands to fuck her in a parking lot in the storming rain. And I’m not going to be ashamed of that either.”

Her words and the memory it brought forth jolted through his
nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. His cock flexed beneath the towel.

“I’m done worrying about what other people think. And I’m done letting what Davis did define me.”

He glanced down at her scars. “And the panic attacks, the flashbacks?”

She stared at him a moment, a small crease forming between her brows. “I think what scared me the most was losing control—being hurt again. But I realized the other night when I went to you without a safe word that submission is not about loss of control, it’s about trust. And I trust you.” She took a deep breath, but her gaze didn’t waver from his. “I love you. Always have.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing her words, letting the fear that had gripped his insides for the last few weeks melt away. She loved him back.
Thank you, God.
As long as he had that, everything else could be worked out.

He reached out and traced one of the scars that striped her sternum, the gentle caress making goose bumps rise on her pale skin. “I love you, too, sugar. More than anything.”

“Thank you for being so hardheaded and not giving up on me,” she said, her voice catching a bit and her green eyes going shiny. “Now, open that damn box before I get all weepy.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t want her to cry—the moment was too sweet to mar with tears—so he pulled the ribbon on the box and lifted the lid. Inside, a sterling silver circle, its only adornment a simple O-ring hanging from it.

To the rest of the world, a pretty necklace.

To him—everything.

A wide grin spread across his face, the joy within him so strong, he was sure he could bleed sunshine.

She put her hands out to him, wrists up, just as she had that first night they’d made love. “Make me yours, Reid Jamison.”

Brynn shivered as Reid’s heated gaze caressed her naked form, heightening her awareness of every lonely inch between them. He lifted her wrists to his mouth and kissed each one. “I think it may take more than a collar for me to stake my claim.”

Sharp tingles raced up her arms, her body craving him like it craved food and water. “Guess it’s a good thing I sent Jace on his merry way after he let me in, then.”

“Good thing.” He grabbed her hips and lifted her to straddle his towel-clad lap, his hard length brushing the terry cloth against her sensitive skin. “Because you’re mine now. And I don’t share what’s mine. Not with another person.” He touched his lips to the pink line that striped the top of her breast. “And not with ugly memories. All we need is you and me.”

She smiled through unshed tears as he hooked the collar around her neck and ran a finger over the hollow of her throat. “Yes, sir.”

He cupped her face and kissed her eyelids, then her lips. “Don’t cry, sugar.”

She pressed her forehead against his and let her hands glide down his chest, which was still dewy from his shower. “I will if you don’t stop torturing me.”

“What do you mean?”

She traced a circle around his flat nipple. “How am I supposed to sit here and be submissive when you look so fucking hot?”

He laughed, a big and hearty sound that seemed to lighten the air around them. “We’re going to have to work on your patience.”

She rocked once against his lap, stroking herself along his erection. “Good luck with that.”

The blue of his eyes darkened with lust, possessiveness. “Tell me now if you have any lines you don’t want me to cross yet.”

She smiled. No more fear. Only anticipation. And love. “Don’t go easy on me, sir. I’m all yours.”

He gave her butt a lightning-quick smack. “Get on your back, LeBreck. Hands gripping the slats of the headboard.”

Biting her lip, she climbed off him and followed his instructions. He rose from the bed and then disappeared into his walk-in closet, leaving her wondering what the heck he was up to. When he emerged, he had a fistful of neckties and had dropped the towel. Knowing that she may soon be blindfolded, she took the chance to devour him with her eyes. No matter how many times she saw him naked, the sight of his hard angles and smooth muscles never failed to steal her breath and light up her insides.

Her focus traveled down the planes of his torso to the vee of his pelvis, honing in on the evidence of his arousal. She wet her lips, the memory of his taste alighting on her tongue. The desire to please him, to bring pleasure to the man she loved—her master—bloomed in her like a living thing. Never had she suspected that accepting her submissive role with him would feel so freeing, so undeniably right. It was as if her soul had been out of alignment, and Reid smoothed all the chinks.

He gave a dark chuckle. “You’re looking at me like I’m your next meal.”

“Maybe you are.”

His fist wrapped around his cock, and he stroked his thumb across the head, catching the bit of liquid glistening there. “You love seeing how hard you make me, don’t you? How crazy you can drive me?”

She nodded and pressed her thighs together, her own liquid heat surging in response.

He stepped next to the bed and ran his damp thumb across her lips. Automatically, she sucked the pad of it into her mouth, closing her eyes and savoring his undeniably masculine flavor. When he took his hand away, she lifted her lashes to find him staring
at her with a heady combination of tender love and unrepentant sexual hunger. “Give me your wrists.”

She complied and he knotted the end of a tie to one. Gently, he set her arm back on the bed, then ran his palm along the outside of her thigh. Her sex throbbed in response, and she shifted her legs in an attempt to provide some pressure to her aching clit. He gave her thigh a playful swat.

“Now, now, no cheating.” He cupped the underside of her knee and drew her leg up. “I want you open to me. I’m going to enjoy that pretty pussy of yours.”

She dropped her head back against the sheets and took deep breaths, trying to focus on anything but the unbearable ache between her legs. She’d longed all these weeks for his touch, his whispered commands, the feel of his mouth on her and his arms around her. The tryst in the parking lot had only whetted her appetite. She didn’t know how much longer she could take it. Maybe Melody’s theory of spontaneous combustion due to sexual frustration had some merit.

“Keep your arms where they are.” He grabbed the other end of the tie attached to her wrist and looped the soft silk around her upper thigh, securing the two together. With one tug, the binding drew her thigh up toward her arm. He quickly trussed the other half of her body in the same manner, leaving her thighs spread wide for his perusal. Deliciously cool air licked at her damp skin as he climbed onto the bed and kneeled in front of her. A hot finger traced along the sensitive juncture between her leg and pelvis, and she shuddered from the subtle contact.

“Look how swollen and wet you are for me, sugar. I bet you would come from the littlest bit of pressure on your clit, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, her words coming out in a breathy rush. “Please, touch me.”

He dipped his head between her thighs and she tilted her hips, begging for his mouth. For agonizing seconds, he held his lips millimeters from her skin, breathing her in, his hot exhales dancing
over the needy nerves. “You have permission to come, love. I plan to draw plenty more out of you before the end of the night.”

He ran the flat of his tongue over her sex in one long, languid lick, and she nearly jumped out of her skin—the sudden sensation overloading her desperate nerve endings. “Oh, God.”

He didn’t wait for her to inhale another breath. Bracing his hands on the backs of her thighs to keep her still, he brought his lips and tongue over her slick tissues and made love to her with his mouth. Licking, nibbling, and suckling in a sensual dance that had her screaming his name in orgasm long before he deemed it time to grant her mercy.

When he finally raised his head, her throat felt raw and her body trembled, but still she needed. Wanted. She tried to reach out for him, but the ties prevented it, and a frustrated whimper escaped. He brushed the dampened hair from her forehead, his gaze intense. “Ready for me, sugar?”

She let out a relieved sigh. “So ready.”

He pulled at the knots in the bindings, releasing her legs, then reached over to the bedside table to grab one of the condoms he had laid on top of it, but she shook her head.

“What’s wrong? Do you need a minute?”

She cleared her throat, trying to fight past the scratchiness. “No condom. I’m on the pill. I don’t want anything between us.”

His worried expression softened into one of heavy-lidded wanting, and he leaned down to kiss her, his lips still shiny with her own juices. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, eliciting a hoarse groan from him, and his body melted over hers. He smelled of soap and sex and
Reid
—a heady opiate that made her drunk with desire. She wrapped her legs around his hips and twined her fingers in his hair, the simple pleasure of exploring his mouth and feeling his bare skin against hers a luxury.

Reid’s large palms spanned her hips, gripping hard and positioning
her, his controlled demeanor fraying in the heat of their kiss. She arched against him and the smooth head of his shaft nudged her opening. She spread her thighs wider, her body begging for him.

He didn’t need a written invitation. With a strangled groan, he thrust forward, his cock sliding to the hilt and filling her to delicious capacity. She sighed beneath him.

His forehead pressed against hers, his breathing labored as he held himself still inside her. “How do you expect me to maintain dominance when you completely unravel me, sugar?”

She looked up through her lashes at him. “Fuck me into submission, sir?”

His lips curled into a rapacious grin. “That’s going to take a lifetime.”

“Count on it.”

He tangled his fingers in her hair and began to move, his eyes not leaving hers. He wasn’t gentle or slow—a fact for which she was eternally grateful. Instead, he drove into her with barely restrained violence. Fucking her. Marking her. Claiming her as his.