Perilous Curves Collection (BBW Romance) (33 page)

Clinging to his shoulders, I lift. His strong arms hold us both off the mattress, letting me ride his shaft as he bites gently at my neck and goads me toward a wilder pace.

"That's it, love. Feel how we fit together, how you were made to hold and fuck my cock."

"Yes..." The word leaves me half a dozen more times as my body grows frantic, my cunt whipping along his thick, long shaft until I come again and my arms and legs can no longer bind me to him.

I fall to the mattress and Luke rears back. His hands grab my knees, force my thighs apart. Still inside me, fucking slow and deep, he watches as my upper body writhes along the mattress, pleasure continuing to lash at my flesh so that I buck and twitch uncontrollably.

Forcing my eyes open, I watch as Luke's gaze slowly absorbs my body and I finally see what he sees. A light film of perspiration glimmers over large, heaving breasts. Arousal pinches and peaks fat, hard nipples. Exertion and the inferno burning low in my gut flush my skin. And there, at the juncture of our bodies, his cock fucks in and out between my spread legs and labia covered in a thick, translucent cream that show how much I want him.

I look up just as his eyes close. Sucking in a deep, deep breath, he holds it until, biting his lips, he shudders and comes.

********************

For a few additional hours, wrapped in Luke's arms, I forget about Rose and Tommy, forget about the past and don't worry about the future. I sleep, I wake, I sleep some more -- all of it surrounded by the animal heat and soft breathing of my lover.

My lover.

What a strange combination of words to run through my head. I have a passing familiarity with "her lover," "his lover," "your lover," but never "my lover" -- until now.

I snuggle closer to Luke, not wanting to wake him but discovering that he hasn't been asleep for at least a few minutes. His voice is too alert when he speaks.

"You didn't kick this time." He rubs my back, his strong fingers kneading muscles made sore by his turning me into some aroused, mindless creature.

Hiding my face against the curve of his shoulder, I smile and mumble something -- just sound, not words. I don't know what to say to him because I have no idea what really happened between us. It could be nothing more than a game, one I am currently enjoying beyond anything I have experienced in my life. It could be something deeper, more meaningful, yet transient. Maybe it will prove to be permanent.

Feeling my eyes mist at this last thought, I rub them against the pillow and lift my head. "You said I could see Tommy today?"

Luke nods then kisses my forehead. He gets up from the bed, walks to his dresser and slides on a fresh pair of silky black briefs. Seeing that he did not leave the bed flaccid but fully erect, I bury my face against the pillow again. This time to hide the blush and a fresh, broader smile.

"Shy again?" He returns to the bed. Bending over the mattress, he brushes his lips against my hair while his fingertips caress my exposed shoulder. "I'll bring some fresh clothes for you once you're in the shower."

I unhide one eye and peek out at him. "Thank you."

Luke shakes his head. "Thank me with a kiss. It says so much more than words."

He throws me a playful wink, making me smile as I roll onto my back and push up. I draw the sheet with me. He pushes it down and I realize he will not let me hide from him while we are together. Then I realize something else -- something shocking. I don't want to hide from Luke.

I tilt my head back, offering him the kiss as his hand takes possession of my bare breast. His lips meet mine. His tongue wages a small battle, winning when I open my mouth to him. Another skirmish erupts as his fingers draw my nipple taut. Moaning in surrender, I place one hand against his shoulder, lightly gripping it in invitation for him to return to bed.

"Don't tempt me, beautiful, or you won't see your baby brother until sometime next week."

A rough, hot rumble, his voice and the threat of his fucking me straight through the rest of the week slick my thighs. When I moan in response, he puts one knee on the bed and forces me to look up at him.

"You want that?" His eyes tell me he knows the answer, or at least part of it.

"Yes..." I blink, stunned at how easy the truth leaves me. I blink again, knowing I shouldn't indulge or admit that desire, that I already have taken too much pleasure from this man who now controls my fate.

"And no," I finish. "I mean...I'm surprised Tommy hasn't scaled down the side of the building already."

Luke laughs, the sound deep and comforting. "Never underestimate the power of an Xbox in subduing a twenty-year-old male."

He kisses me one last time, short and sweet, then leaves me to my shower.

********************

For the last six years, I have dressed Rose and Tommy better than I dress myself. Especially Rose -- she is hardest to satisfy. So the clothes I find on the bed when I finish my shower stun me. I examine the black undergarments first, fresh color heating my cheeks. Both the front of the bra and the back of the panties are caged, so that half of the area they are intended to cover is nothing more than widely spaced straps. For the bra, this means three straps across each breast from my shoulder down to a little above the nipple where the demi cup begins. For the panties, a small bow rests low down the center of my back. From it, three straps on each side curve on a downward diagonal across each cheek to join a two-inch swath of lace. Sheer black, the stockings end halfway up my thighs.

I put the stockings, bra and panties on then spin a slow circle in front of the mirror. I shake my head, feeling like I must be looking at another woman and that the designer is a frigging genius.

Returning to the bed, I put on the silk blouse and skirt in a dark merlot. Both are form fitting and ruched, the many delicate folds in the fabric camouflaging those in my body. Looking at the outfit, I can't entirely wrap my mind around the expensive fabric with its tailored cut in my size or that Luke has put some poor soul through the pain and effort of acquiring them.

I am equally stunned by the details that fill the basket of cosmetics next to the clothes. The colors match those I wore the first night Luke encountered me, but with brand names for which a single bottle of foundation costs more than a month of my utilities. Hell, the tube of frosted pink lipstick is a month of electricity.

I take my time applying the make-up and arranging my hair. Even if it turns out to be dinner with just Tommy, I have the feeling I will see Masters again before the night ends. Plus, I hope the more polished I look when I see Tommy, the more faith he will have in my getting us out of this jam.

Rule number 7 -- Fake it until you make it.

Abusive con artist or not, my father imparted at least a few words of wisdom in the twenty years I knew him. He twisted them into tools to scam people, of course, but it didn't take me long to untwist them, especially once I escaped his control. Tommy was easy to retrain, too. He is, by nature, everything my dad isn't: kind, industrious, smart.

Rose, on the other hand...

I shake my head. I will have time to work on Rose after she is safe. With our father in jail and my warrants gone -- if Masters can really make that happen -- we can finally settle into one place. I can get a better job.

My attention returning to the mirror, I discover Luke standing a few feet behind me, his gaze on my reflection.

"I hope that head shake has nothing to do with how you look." He steps closer and turns me until I face him. His hands around my hips, he draws me closer. "Because you look amazing."

I start to shake my head again, stopping only after it is too late to disguise the gesture. Masters presses against the underside of my chin until I look up at him.

"You don't have to believe me, just smile or say okay. Eventually you will see it for yourself." Tilting his head down, he glosses his lips against my mouth then nudges his nose against mine. "And the next compliment you roll your eyes at, I'm spanking that lush ass of yours while we're both naked."

"Okay." My cheeks burn at the threat. I have never been spanked -- that would have been too mild a punishment by my father's standards. Yesterday -- even this morning -- the threat would have made me tense and anxious, fearful perhaps. Now I doubt I would protest if Luke spanked me. The mere idea of his hand on my bare bottom and the press of his erect cock against my hip rekindles the embers of my earlier arousal.

I search his gaze, looking for any sign that I should be worried the experience would be less than pleasurable. After all, I know next to nothing about Luke. That you can't con a con offers no comfort because I have come to the realization that I no longer am one.

It would be child's play for him to scam me. I want what he is offering, am downright greedy for his smile and touch.

Cupping my cheek, he kisses the edge of my mouth. "Baby, save the thinking for when you're with Solandro or at the table. Here, with me, I just want you to feel."

To just feel, I have to trust.

I close my eyes, wanting like hell to trust Luke. Taking full possession of my head, he kisses me again. His tongue presses against the seal of my lips. When I don't yield, he tilts my head back until the strain on my neck gives him the small opening he needs. His tongue slips in, takes a slow walk across the edge of my front teeth then curls under my top lip to suck it into his mouth.

Stopping, he waits until I open my eyes then drills into them. "I know what you're thinking."

I lift a brow, my throat too tight to talk.

He smiles, the line of his mouth almost sad. "To feel, you have to trust, and you're certain you can't trust me until you have had a chance to think through every possible angle."

"Baby, you're wrong on this one." He brushes the hair from my face then strokes my cheek. "You have to feel your way to trusting me. Can you do that?"

I look away for a second. When I look back, I see too many things in his gaze to process: heat, desire, kindness, something that looks like affection or maybe even--

Cutting the thought short with a nod, I give him half the answer he wants.

"I can try."

********************

Thirty minutes into dinner with Tommy, my cell phone rings. Luke is absent from the room and has been since the start of the meal to give Tommy and me the privacy to discuss the events of the last few days. At the first ring, he reappears.

Knowing the call is being recorded and traced by Luke's team, I try to keep Solandro's man on longer. I ask to speak with Rose before he can really start talking. I misstate the instructions so he must take the time to read them to me again. He still hangs up before we can get a trace, telling me to get the details right or Rose is dead.

Hearing the threat, I want to collapse in a panicky heap. I take one look at Tommy and know I can't. He needs me to be strong -- Rose needs it even more.

"You've got this." Tommy rubs my arm as I put the cell phone down on the table. "I know you do."

I nod, unable to offer him stronger assurances. He thinks I can tackle the world. But, really, what does he know? I am twenty-six fucking years old, uneducated, scrambling from one pay check to the next, lying to get jobs, always too busy reacting to the latest crisis to get a better handle on anything and the list of how incompetent I truly am just goes on and on. My opponent? Solandro is a hardened criminal -- worse than my father. He is a psychopath who has other psychopaths working for him.

Luke gently takes my arm and leads me back to the table. "You have two hours before you need to pick up the lenses, Marie. The two of you should finish your meal while I get things ready."

Seeing something guarded in his expression, I study Luke for a moment. He doesn't hide his expression, doesn't mask the tension lines lightly etching the sides of his mouth or eyes. His places his hand on my arm, the position so much like that first night in the casino when he busted me. Only this time he lightly strokes his thumb against my elbow, a silent request for me to trust him.

I nod and sit down, but I can't fight the feeling that everything is about to go sideways. I watch Tommy pick at his food. We are both too nervous to eat and give up. We spend the last few minutes with our arms wrapped around one another, our foreheads touching.

As Luke returns to lead me away, Tommy reassures me one last time. "You've got this, sis."

********************

Whether I have the situation under control or not, Luke Masters has no intention of letting me leave his casino.

"What do you mean I can't go?" We are back in that underground room, the one with the couch and television that Vincent deposited me in after I returned from Solandro's warehouse the first time. I stand in front of Luke, our bodies touching as I glare up at him.

"Marie, you don't know the monster you're dealing with." Both hands on my shoulders, he tries to walk me to the couch to sit me down and reason with me.

I shake free, plant my hands on my hips and continue glaring at him. "You or Solandro?"

"Solandro's boss." With his cheeks flushing an angry red, Luke closes his eyes. "The man is a sadist."

"So I should just leave Rose with him?" Too furious to contain myself, I reach out and push at Luke's chest. "Just when did you decide you weren't letting me go?"