Deep Domination (Bought by the Billionaire #2) (8 page)

She moaned around his cock, wanting to tell him that she wasn’t anxious, she was insanely turned on and dying for him to touch her, to pinch her nipples and slide his fingers into where she ached.

Yes, there was something scary about being invaded by him in a way that felt so unnatural. But it was also empowering, to know that her mind was exerting control over her body and insisting that it accommodate her demands.
His
demands.

Right now, they felt like one and the same, and no matter how tough a game he’d talked leading up to this, he wasn’t hurting her. He was coaching her, teaching her, the way he had last night. He was insistent, but patient, giving her time and only sliding in that last inch when she was wide open and ready to accept him.

They groaned in mutual pleasure as he sank home, his entire length buried inside her throat and the tip of her tongue resting against his balls. The taste of him flooded her mouth and his scent spun through her head. He smelled like soap and spice and man.
The
man, the one she’d been waiting for, the man whose taste was the best taste and smell was the best smell. The man whose soul hummed at the same frequency as her own and whose touch made her feel safe, even when he was rough with her.

Especially then. She had never felt freer than when Jackson loomed so large in her awareness that there was no room for anything or anyone else.

As he fisted his hand in her hair, sliding out and back in, slowly establishing a rhythm, giving her time to adjust to the way he glided up and down her tongue, she let go of everything. She let go of worry and doubt. She let go of her hopes and fears and plans for coaxing a way out of her cage.

She let go of herself and became nothing but the woman kneeling at Jackson’s feet, the source of his pleasure, the goddess who made his breath hitch and this strong, complicated, troubled man come undone. And instead of that giving away making her less, it made her more.

She felt powerful, beautiful, and unashamed of the saliva dripping down her chin as his thrusts grew faster, deeper. The mess was part of the pleasure, and that made it beautiful too.

A beautiful mess.

Like her, like Jackson, and whatever this was growing between them.

She rolled her eyes up to watch his face. Her sight had adjusted to the shadows enough that she could make out his full bottom lip trapped between his teeth and the way his hard features relaxed as he neared the edge. And in that moment he was her stranger again, the one she’d promised herself to the first time he’d taken her in his arms.

He was vulnerable and overcome and as devastated by what was happening between them as she was. It was enough to make her hope again, but then he thrust forward one last time with a groan, his cock jerking deep in her throat, and once again there was nothing but him.

Nothing but the way he owned her every time they touched.

CHAPTER TEN

Jackson

Jackson came like a steam engine roaring off the tracks, like lava bursting from the center of the earth. His entire body exploded with bliss, not just his pulsing cock or throbbing balls.

He came in his legs and his arms and deep in his chest where his heart swelled to push against the bones that caged it. He came in the fingertips buried in the silken softness of her hair. He came in the lips that buzzed with blood and heat and the longing to replace his cock with his mouth and kiss Harley breathless.

Kiss her until she moaned and begged and confessed every thought racing through her head. Until she laid her secrets bare and finally told him the truth about something other than how much she wanted him to fuck her.

Before he could bring himself to care about breaking another one of his stupid rules, he was pulling his spent cock from between Harley’s lips and lifting her up by the hand he’d fisted in her hair.

She moaned as she rose to her feet and fell into him, her arms twining around his neck and her breasts flattening against his chest. Her lips parted and he bent his head, crushing his mouth to hers, pushing his tongue into her heat, tasting sex and submission.

And it was sweet. And filthy. And fucking perfect.

Her tongue sparred with his, giving as good as she got as he pulled her in tight with one arm, drawing her up his body, needing to get closer to her wicked mouth. They kissed like they needed the other’s lips to survive, like they were the last refugees of some terrible war.

And Jackson supposed, in a way, they were. Harley had started the war and he would finish it. She had ruined him and he planned to wreck her in return and maybe by the end of it all no one would understand either of them the way they understood each other. They would be broken in the same way, twisted mirror reflections.

He kissed her until his spent cock began to swell between his legs and Harley was making eager little mewling sounds before he finally set her on her feet and pulled back to look into her shadowed face.

“Good, sir?” she asked, swaying slightly, her voice husky and ripe with lust.

“You’re a deep throat prodigy,” he said, wiping the wetness on her chin away with one hand. “Now put your hands behind your back and interlace your fingers.”

She obeyed immediately, her movements bringing her breasts into tighter contact with his feverish skin. Even with the breeze rushing in from the ocean, he was burning up, already dying to have her again not five minutes after he’d come like it was the last, best thing he would ever do.

“You did so well,” he said, cupping her breasts in his hands and capturing her swollen tips between his fingers and thumbs. “So I’m going to give you a choice between two rewards.”

She held his gaze, breath coming faster as he plucked and teased her nipples. “Thank you, sir.”

“The first reward is an afternoon on the beach tomorrow, all by yourself,” he said, cock thickening as she smiled and arched into his touch. “The second is an afternoon spent exploring the island with me, followed by dinner together tomorrow night.”

“The second,” she said, thighs shifting. “With you, sir.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t promise to be nice to you or give a shit if you have a good time.”

“With you, sir,” she repeated a pained look flashing across her face. “Please, can I touch you? I want to touch you.”

“Why?” He dropped one hand between her legs, sliding a finger through her slick folds. She was already dripping, and clearly hadn’t been faking her enjoyment in having his cock rammed down her throat.

“I want to get closer to you,” she said, moaning as he began to circle her swollen clit. “I want to dig my fingernails into your shoulders while you fuck me.”

“But I’m in charge of pain.” He leaned down, kissing her cheek before leaning in to whisper into her ear. “And who said I was going to fuck you?”

“You can’t blame a girl for wishful thinking. Especially when you’ve got your hand between her legs,” she said, trapping his ear lobe between her teeth and biting down.

“Good point,” he said, plunging a finger between her legs, making her gasp and her mouth open. “But your reward doesn’t start until tomorrow afternoon. There’s still plenty of time to make you suffer.” He pinched her nipple, drawing a moan from low in her throat.

Her head fell back. “I know, sir.”

“So what if I said I was leaving you now,” he said, the mere thought enough to make his balls ache with grief. “And that you were to go to bed without doing anything to bring yourself relief?”

“That’s what I would do,” she said, even as she widened her stance, making it easier for him to add a second finger and push deeper inside her. “I don’t want my own hand. I want your cock.”

“You want my cock, sir,” he corrected, though his cock couldn’t care less if she added the honorific. His cock just wanted inside her, five minutes ago.

“I want your cock, sir,” she amended, her eyes so filled with hunger he wasn’t sure he would be able to deny her, even in the name of making her suffer. “I want to be so full of you there’s no room for anything else.”

“You’re a tremendous liar, Harley.” His pulse raced as he added a third finger and rammed in deep, making her breath catch. “A fucking master of the art.”

“Nothing I’ve said tonight has been a lie,” she said, holding his gaze. “Not a thing. I want you. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you. You drive me crazy, Jackson, and I—”

He silenced her with another bruising kiss. He couldn’t let her keep talking or he’d slap her. Or shake her until her teeth rattled. Or pin her to the wall and howl into her face until she stopped fucking with him and told him why.

Why she did it, why she cheated on him, why she ran away with Clay, why she framed him for a crime he didn’t commit, a crime he never would have committed because he was a good man.

Or he had been a good man. Then.

He wasn’t now, and she would do well to remember it.

“You will not use my given name again,” he growled against her lips as he picked her up with one arm and carried her toward the bed where the bedside lamp cast the rumpled covers in soft yellow light. “Or I will hurt you. And it will not be the kind of hurting you enjoy.”

“Yes, sir,” she breathed. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Shut up.” He threw her onto the bed, where she landed with a yip of surprise that would have made him laugh once, back when he’d loved all her little sounds. Now it just made his jaw clench. “Hands above your head, pinned to the bed. Do not move them from that position or I will stop whatever I’m doing immediately and leave the room.”

She scooted backward, watching him warily as she lay down and lifted her hands above her head. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“You’ve said that, but now I want you to be quiet,” he said, shoving his pants to the ground and stepping out of them. “I don’t want you to make a sound. Not a moan, not a whimper, not a single sound. Do you understand?”

She nodded, eyes widening as he wrapped his hands around her ankles and squeezed.

“Not even when you come,” he warned. “If you cry out when you come it will be the last time you come for days and that’s a promise.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded again.

“Good. Now let’s see how you’re doing after last night.” He pushed her legs up and over her head, until her knees touched her nose and her ass was up in the air. She was as flexible as ever and it was fucking hot, but not as hot as the faint red and blue marks covering her pale buttocks.

He ran a hand over them, gently kneading the flesh. She cringed slightly, but didn’t whimper. Either he wasn’t using enough force to hurt her or she was simply determined not to make a sound.

One way to find out…

He slapped her ass hard enough to set her flesh to jiggling and definitely hard enough to hurt the parts of her that were already bruised. But still she was silent.

He glanced down between her legs to see her eyes closed and her teeth digging in to her bottom lip. She was so obedient when she wanted to be, so eager to be led, so seemingly effortlessly submissive. If he didn’t know better, it would be easy to believe this was the truth and everything else had been the lie. Even his gut was sold. It believed she wanted him and needed this sick game they were playing as much as he did.

But he’d spent eighteen months behind bars for the mistake of believing in Harley Garrett—or whatever the hell her name was—and he wasn’t going to make that mistake again. She had always been strong enough not to get swept up in her own deception. Now it was his turn to prove he was her equal.

He would keep pushing until she broke. Sooner or later he’d find her limit, the line she wasn’t willing to cross in the name of pretending to be what he wanted and then he would see the woman behind the mask. He would force the real Harley from hiding and then force her to her knees, no matter how long it took.

He’d promised to return her in a month, but she knew better than most that promises were made to be broken.

The thought made his cock thicker and the need to be balls deep in Harley more powerful. Hating her made him want to fuck her as much as love ever had, proving there was indeed a thin line between one and the other.

Holding her legs above her head with one hand looped around both of her ankles, Jackson reached for the box of condoms she’d left on top of the table with the other. The decision had no doubt been a calculated move, one of her many attempts to prove herself willing and eager to please. Like choosing an afternoon with him instead of an afternoon alone on the beach.

But she would regret that decision, sooner or later. Every moment she spent with him was taking her a step closer to her own destruction.

Let her think otherwise. For now. Let her think about the pleasure he gave her and the small kindnesses he showed her and let her think he was weakening. It didn’t matter what she thought; nothing had changed and nothing would ever change. No matter how many times she made him come, no matter how she excelled at getting him off, he would never soften or sway. He would stay on course until he was running her over, leaving bits and pieces of her shattered soul littering the road behind him.

Breath coming faster, he ripped the condom open with his teeth and slid it on his pulsing length before returning both hands to Harley’s ankles and pushing her legs even farther back, until her face was framed by her muscled calves.