Forbidden Surrender (10 page)

“Wider.”

I wasn’t sure if I should have; I probably should’ve asked him what he was going to put in my mouth. Instead, my lips stretched wider, compelled by the authority in his voice.

“Be careful with your teeth. I don’t want you biting me.”

What?
Before I could protest, something slowly entered my mouth and sat heavily on my tongue. It tasted sinfully sweet and creamy.

“Close.”

Without needing be told, my lips instinctively wrapped around it and tightened, suckling the decadent chocolate from his finger.

“Taste good?”

My murmur of approval sounded more like a moan. As he slowly retracted his finger, I took my time licking the tip, wanting to savor every last bit. I heard him stifling a groan when he finally pulled away. It was one of the most erotic sounds I’d ever heard, and I desperately wanted to remove the blindfold to see his expression.

“That was just the first bite.” His voice registered lustful amusement, his mouth close to my ear. “This time, I want you to really focus on the pleasure in your mouth. Block out everything else.” I felt him brush my hair intimately behind my ear then his tender lips were against my cheek. “Like this,” he whispered, his mouth trailing gentle, sensuous kisses to my ear, drawing soft moans from my lips. “And this.” He pinched my earlobe between his lips and pulled the sensitive flesh into his mouth, sucking it with just enough pressure to make my legs quiver and sex clench in heated anticipation. There was no way I’d be able to block out the sensation of those lips on my body. And I didn’t want to.

“Ready?” he asked.

I wasn’t but I wanted another taste of the dessert to heighten the pleasure from his kisses. “Yes,” I breathed.

Eager, I opened my mouth again. Sweet cream brushed the tip of my tongue and I tried to lick it, but it pulled out of reach. When I sensed him bring it back, I stuck out my tongue to try to taste it but it retracted, teasing me. The next time he touched my tongue, I playfully nipped at his finger.

“You’re so feisty,” he murmured into my neck then bit the skin playfully, sparking a dangerous current of desire. I wanted to grab his hair and pull him in further but was aware I needed to follow his rules.

“That’s because you’re teasing me.”

“Am I? Tell me what you want,” he purred against my neck.

“I want to taste it in my mouth.”

“What do you want to taste?”

“You know what.”

“Tell me.”

“Your finger.”

“Good.” He slowly moved his finger into my mouth and I swirled my tongue around it. “That’s it. Just like that.” His voice was oozing with desire, which only increased the growing ache in my sex.

“Are you focusing on just the sensations in your mouth?” he asked, his tongue making slow, sensual licks along the throbbing vein in my neck while his finger was still in my mouth.

“Mmhmm,” I lied.

His breathing was as labored as mine. Suddenly, his lips and finger pulled away and I began to think I had done something wrong. Then his mouth was on mine. I parted my lips for him and his tongue slipped inside, the tip tasting of rich, creamy dark chocolate. The taste of his mouth mixed with chocolate was overwhelmingly sensual. I reached up and ran my hands through his silky hair, grabbing and pulling his mouth deeper into mine, all resistance and restraint gone. I didn’t care for his rules anymore. I wanted him so badly it was physically painful.

“No hands,” he grunted, soft lips becoming rough. I could tell he was trying to act upset because I’d broken his rule and the thin veil masking his desire only intensified my yearning for him.

Suddenly, he wrapped one arm around my torso and the other behind my knees. He lifted me into the air like a bride, mouth never leaving mine. We must’ve entered his bedroom because the next thing I knew, silk sheets hit my back. Hot with need, I parted my legs to accommodate his hips pushing between them.

My hands tightened, craving the feel of the hard muscles of his back. His hips against mine, I felt the solid weight of his erection through his pants press against my stomach.

“You feel that? That’s how much I want you.”

“I feel it.” My voice trembled with desire sensing what was coming.

He ground his erection against my sex in slow, firm circles. Even through the layers of our clothes, the pressure and friction sent currents of pleasure, fueling my hunger for direct contact. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered hoarsely.

“I want to feel you inside me, Vincent.”

He grabbed both of my hands and raised my arms over my head, pinning them with one firm hand while the other skillfully unbuttoned my jeans. “Keep your arms here, Kristen. Otherwise I won’t let you have it. Understand?” Only a slight waver in his tone betrayed the steely control he projected.

“I want to feel you though. I want to see you,” I protested, not understanding why he was torturing me with desperate need. He’d wanted this ever since our first meeting and now that he had me dripping with desire, he was taking his sweet time. I needed him inside me. Now.

“Nothing worth pursuing comes without patience,” he said, throwing my own words back at me, inciting frustration that only intensified my arousal. His tone softened. “Clench the pillow behind your head if you need to. I promise, this will be worth it.”

I grumbled approval, so horny I was afraid I was losing my mind.

I wiggled my hips to aid him as he gracefully slipped off my jeans along with my panties. A moment later, I heard them thud in a faraway corner. “God, Kristen. Your cunt is so beautiful.”

His filthy words sent fresh juices to my aching sex. I crossed my legs, embarrassed of what he might see. Although I’d shaved recently, I was self-conscious about him viewing such a vulnerable area of my body.

He parted my legs with firm hands. “Don’t hide such a beautiful thing from me. I want to see it. I want to see everything. Show me.”

I’d always been a little shy being nude in front of a man, but compelled by the urgency in his tone, I did as he asked. Somehow he had the ability to make me feel beautiful.

Then I felt something slowly enter me. A finger.

“So wet. So soft.
Damn it
.” He growled, as if straining to hold back a primal desire threatening to consume him. His mouth was close to my pussy, his hot labored breaths brushing my clit. I imagined him staring at me, dark eyes inflamed with lust, watching as he pushed his finger into my eagerly awaiting slit. If only I didn’t have this blindfold on, I could see his gorgeous face.

He thrust his finger in up to the second knuckle, and I bit my lip, trying to hold back the moan building inside my throat. It’d been so long since I’d been touched, I was afraid I’d come from that single motion alone.

“You’re already close aren’t you?”

I nodded painfully, fingers desperately clutching the pillow, perspiration misting my skin.

His finger resumed thrusting in and out, twisting as it did so. First slowly, then faster. His pace increased edging me closer to my impending climax.

“Oh my god, I’m coming.”

The orgasm slammed into me, shattering my senses. I arched into his hand and my sex clenched his finger.

Before I could fully recover, I felt sensation against my clit.

“No, Vincent. I’m too sensitive.”

His expert tongue lapped hungrily at the hood, periodically dipping into my cleft and nuzzling my clit with his nose. After my mind-blowing orgasm, I didn’t think my body could take anymore.

“So good. So sweet.” He groaned as he devoured me, sending my head spinning. I writhed on the bed and released my grip from the pillow behind me. I reached for luscious locks, pulling his tongue deeper into my cleft as I bucked my hips. I’d never experienced such brain-sizzling oral pleasure before.

“It feels too good,” I moaned.

“I’ve never been this hard before,” he growled. “I want you so bad.”

“Take me,” I cried.

His head moved away and I heard buttons scatter as he ripped his shirt. His belt buckle and pants soon followed. I knew he freed his cock because there was a dull skin-slapping sound as it hit my stomach. I reached to touch it, to feel its scorching heat and pulsing energy. It was heavy and long enough to accommodate both my hands.

“You don’t know how much I’ve thought about those hands wrapping around my cock.” His voice was desperate and needy. I squeezed him and he released a pained cry.

“Can I take the blindfold off?” I pleaded.

“Yes. Take it off. Everything off.”

With one hand, I pulled away the folded napkin and I gazed at what was in my other hand.

“Jesus, you’re big.”

My gaze snagged on the hard tapered lines of his pelvis. And ripped. My gaze trailed from his hips up and across steely abs and chiseled pecs pierced with silver rings to his breathtaking face, dark eyes flushed with desire. I’d seen him in his swimsuit before, but now he was completely nude, radiating raw sexual energy that stole my breath.

“I can’t fight it anymore, Kristen. I need to be inside you.”

He reached into a bedside drawer and produced a small packet. I released my grip as he roughly took his member in his own hands and wrapped himself before guiding it to my entrance. I sucked in a deep breath preparing for his size. Although I used a vibrator, Vincent looked bigger than what I was used to. I anticipated he’d impatiently thrust to the hilt, but he took his time, slowly parting the folds with the head. With how wet I was, he was easily able to slide in. He stopped when the tip was fully inside and pulled back with the same patience, slowly stroking my walls with just the head, cycling sensations of emptiness and fullness again and again. The teasing was agonizing.

“Deeper,” I begged.

He pushed deeper, unhurried, every ridge of his heated flesh firing nerves I didn’t realize I had. My mind swam in the experience.

“Faster,” I panted.

“You said slow.”

I began to regret having said those words to him during our date in St. Thomas, but then his pace quickened. I gripped his backside and pulled, aiding his thrusts as I bucked forward for stronger penetration. It’d been so long since I had sex that the pleasure from Vincent moving inside me was almost unbearable. Consumed by desire, our mouths and bodies wrestled in primal lust, cries of pleasure echoing throughout the apartment.

“You’re making me lose it, Kristen. I can’t stop.”

His thrusts became more urgent, more desperate as did my moans. Then I felt him jerk and the first wave of heat poured into me. He released a strangled growl the moment I clenched around him. He collapsed into me as my world went dark again for a moment. We laid there for a spell, neither of us speaking, just the sound of our heavy breaths and heartbeats filling the silence.

“You’re incredible,” Vincent said, lifting his face to look into my gaze.

I smiled, staring back into those dark eyes brimming with warm affection. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“I thought I was going to die there for a moment.”

“I’m not sure I haven’t.”

He smiled and kissed my cheek. “You’re still here. With me.”

We were standing among the impressive marble pillars of the library, looking out at the red brick buildings of Harvard Square. It was autumn and the red and yellow leaves fluttering down beneath the waning sun made a picturesque setting for a stupid argument about a post on my Facebook wall.

“Just tell me who he is!” the man yelled, his brown hair combed just above his bright blue eyes perfectly, as always. Together with his rimless glasses, he resembled a J Crew model.

“He’s a friend from a class. It’s nothing!”

It was the third time we’d fought that week. We were never a couple that fought a lot, but for some reason we’d been getting into more and more arguments recently. A year older, he’d graduated before me and gotten a job at his dad’s law firm in Boston. Since then, he’d visited me regularly on campus, which I was grateful for, but knowing I was surrounded by other attractive guys my age seemed to make his jealousy worse.

He looked around. “You swear it’s nothing?”

I hated having to deal with this part of our relationship. We’d been through this argument before—some guy waving at me or saying hello, sharing class notes, or asking if I wanted to go to a social event—and every time it ended with tears and hurt feelings. For both of us. It got to the point where we decided to share phone, email, and Facebook passwords.

“Oh my god, yes.”

He took another look around and held out his hand, pinky extended. “Fine. Pinky swear.”

Childish as it was, I was glad to be done with the argument. The past few months he’d been flipping out over every single guy who even looked at me, and it was a problem. I hoped I had at least avoided anything more extreme. But when I looked at his cold blue eyes, I was unsure. I glanced around sheepishly, but the campus was mostly deserted, finals having ended weeks ago.

I held out my pinky and intertwined it with his, hoping the action would appease him. His eyes flashed and he yanked me to his chest, twisting my finger savagely. I gasped, the full weight of the dread I had been carrying for weeks finally rising to the surface of my mind. As the pain erupted, hot tears flooded my eyes. My other hand shot up to pry my injured hand away from him, but he was too strong.

“Don’t ever lie to me Kristen. Never. Do you understand me? Never.”

My world blurred as tears poured down my cheeks. I tried desperately to scream for help but as I opened my mouth, his hand shot up to cover it. The world went gray.

I woke up screaming. A bundle of nerves, it didn’t help I couldn’t recognize my surroundings. Where was I?

“Kristen,” a familiar voice said, “it was just a dream. You’re okay.”

I turned to Vincent beside me. His face was full of concern and his hand was wrapped gently around my shoulder. Realization swept over me. He was mostly right, it had been a dream. Not
just
a dream, but I was safe for now. I turned to him.

“That must have been a bad nightmare. Do you remember it?”

I remembered it in more ways than one. It had been the breaking point with Marty. Our relationship had seemed good for a long time, but when he started getting abusive it got ugly fast. That had been over two years ago.

“Vincent, I think—” I faltered. There was no need to unload this story on him right now. I barely knew him; I had been handling Marty on my own for two years without any issue, I could keep handling him for a while longer.

He pulled me tightly against his bare chest. The warmth and hardness was immediately comforting. “It’s okay. Take a minute. You’re safe here.”

I traced my finger around one of his nipple rings. They were starting to grow on me. Again, he was right. I did need a minute because my heart was pounding. The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t believe Marty had actually shown up at my apartment.

He began stroking my hair down to my nape. Slowly I felt myself relaxing. Vincent was really being amazing about this. It would have been easy to wake me up and then roll over, dismissing my unease, but the way he was holding me close and comforting me was perfect.

“What was your nightmare about?” he asked.

I thought about telling him, but I just couldn’t. It was too early in our relationship, or whatever it was we were doing. If I told him, he would probably feel like I was unloading way too much baggage way too quickly. He was already treating me differently than his other women. I didn’t want to push it.

“Nothing,” I said.

“You were thrashing around pretty hard for a dream about nothing.”

“I just mean I don’t remember.”

He said nothing for a few minutes, continuing to stroke my hair. Finally, he spoke. “If you don’t want to tell me, just say so, but please don’t lie to me. I hate being lied to.”

“Okay, fine, I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because this is our second date and things are already moving fast enough as it is.”

“The more you build this up the more I want to know. I want to be close to you. I thought that’s what you wanted. Not just casual dating and sex.”

I said nothing, thinking. It was sweet that he wanted to be close to me, but this was just too soon. Maybe I could just make something up. It would be lying again, but at least this situation would be resolved.

“There’s no point in obeying people’s arbitrary rules about dating or anything else, really,” he said. “You either feel safe with someone or you don’t. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together.”

I took a deep breath. “You really think for yourself, don’t you?”

“Telling people where to go with their arbitrary rules is one of the biggest reasons I am where I am.” He pulled me in tighter. “Which, I might add, is a pretty amazing spot right now.”

I smiled, but continued to say nothing. Could I really trust him not to run away when he found out about my past with Marty? He was saying all the right things, and I really didn’t have a reason to believe he was lying, but it all seemed too good to be true. My cautious side was blaring for me to slow down.

And yet, I probably wasn’t going to get a better chance to tell him about Marty than this moment. If he reacted badly, at least I would know that he was asking for me to tell him.

I pulled gently away.
Here we go.
“My ex-boyfriend showed up at my apartment today.”

He scrunched his brow. “Does this have something to do with your dream?”

“It was about him.”

He nodded, eyes still squinting. “So you still have feelings for him?”

I shuddered and he squeezed my shoulder. “No, no. Nothing like that. It’s just—”

I faltered again. He looked at me, concern etched on his face. I started to cry and had to take several deep breaths to calm myself down enough to speak. “He was kind of abusive,” I managed.

Vincent’s mouth thinned to a tight line, and I saw his jaw working. He inhaled sharply, features shifting in a way I’d never seen before. Would he think I was weak or, worse, helpless because I had been abused?

“What do you mean, kind of?”

When I didn’t say anything he shook his head, “It doesn’t matter, where does he live?” His eyes were alight with violent promise.

“No—I mean—I don’t know. Don’t hurt him Vincent, it’s not worth it.”

“You let me decide whether it’s worth it or not.”

I started crying harder. This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. Vincent looked like he was ready to pound Marty’s head in. It was sweet that he was feeling protective of me, but getting violent wasn’t going to help anything. I hated violence.

When he saw me crying the hard lines in his face melted. He was breathing fast, but the fire in his eyes was mostly gone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. What did he do to you, exactly?”

I shook my head. “Please don’t make me go into details. I’m through with him and he can’t hurt me anymore.” How would I explain getting caught in a relationship with a man who had borderline personality disorder? How he was so sweet at first, and very attentive, but then would snap at a moment’s notice? How he managed to hold it together for the outside world, but not with me? How it felt to beat yourself up over wanting to leave someone who had a legitimate mental illness they couldn’t really help?

“Okay, okay. You’re right. No need to dig up the past.” He didn’t say anything else, and I was grateful that he wasn’t pressuring me any more about this even though I could tell questions were running through his mind.

I put my ear back down onto his chest and draped my arm over him. After a moment, he hugged me close, his hand resting on my hip. “I haven’t spoken to him in years and somehow he knows where I live. It’s unsettling.”

“What happened when he came to your apartment?”

“Riley answered the door, and he told her he was looking for me. She texted me his description and I recognized it immediately. When I went to check on her I told her not to answer the door again.”

“It sounds like he might be dangerous. You should stay here with me until we get this worked out. Or I can put you up in a hotel.”

This was moving way too fast. I hadn’t told him about this so he could fix the problem for me. “No, Vincent. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering.”

I said nothing.

He sighed. “Fine. No hotel then. I’ll get you a security team. I know a couple of guys at Blackthorn Security, you’ll barely notice them.”

I shook my head.

“Think about it.” He looked intensely at me for a moment before speaking again. “Can you go to the police?”

“I doubt it. They wouldn’t do anything in Cambridge.”

“Figures. They’re never good for anything. What’s his name?” When he saw the look on my face he continued, “I won’t do anything to him, I promise.”

I wouldn’t have told him, but the solemn look on his face comforted me. Vincent wasn’t the kind of guy who made promises lightly.

“Martin Pritchard. I called him Marty.”

He nodded slowly. “Where did you meet him?”

“We dated all through college. He started out being really nice, but gradually got more and more possessive and jealous.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Please don’t.” I took a deep breath, trying to quell the nausea I had begun to feel as I recalled my dream.

Vincent said nothing and we sat in silence for a couple minutes. “Please let me get you a security team. You’ll barely notice them, and they could save your life.”

“Vincent, I told you this because you wanted to know, not so you could solve this problem for me. I can deal with my own issues.” I was scared of Marty, but I really didn’t want to seem weak in front of Vincent, like a woman who needed saving. What if I counted on him and then he disappeared? I would only have myself to blame.

His jaw was working again, but he didn’t say anything for a minute. “Fine. Do you at least have some way to defend yourself if he tries to attack you? Mace, a knife, a gun, anything?”

My head spun at the thought of owning a deadly weapon. What kind of person did he think I was? “No. Why on earth would I own a gun?”

“Let’s get you something tomorrow. Not a gun, but something.”

I shrugged as hot tears began budding up in my eyes and running down my cheeks. He was listening, but he sounded very worried about this. I already regretted telling him. He wasn’t running away, which was good, but I didn’t want him to feel obligated, or like I was too weak to deal with this on my own.

Arm still around me, he rocked me onto my back so he was over me, brown eyes searching mine. “Kristen, I’m glad you told me about this. We can handle it however you want, okay?”

I nodded, though the tears were still coming thick. As the burden of the whole situation began to lift off my shoulders I realized how stressed I had been.

Vincent kissed away the tears rolling down my cheeks with soft little pecks. The way his muscles bulged as he cradled my head in his arms felt comforting. I really didn’t want to deal with this right now.

“Let’s forget about this for now,” I said. “We can go to the store tomorrow like you suggested. I’d prefer not to think about it anymore tonight.”

“Okay.” He continued kissing away the tears on my face, sprinkling in kisses on my forehead.

I shifted and felt his cock through his underwear with my leg. Even when he wasn’t hard, the size of his package was impressive.

He wasn’t aroused, but I was getting to be. I needed a distraction from this situation. I had an idea of how I wanted to distract myself as I reached down to grab him through his underwear.

“I think I know how I want to handle this,” I said.

He looked uncertain. “Are you sure? We can just go to sleep if you want.”

“I don’t. I want you inside me. I want my mind off this.” I peeled his underwear down his legs and free of his feet. He didn’t resist.

As soon as I had, he wrapped me up in his muscular arms and kissed me passionately on the lips, his hand moving down my torso to my panties as I stroked his cock. The way he responded so quickly to my touch heated my core.

“I can do that,” he whispered into my ear, his hand hovering over my aching sex. “Let’s take our time.”