Possession (The Plus One Chronicles) (4 page)

BOOK: Possession (The Plus One Chronicles)
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His control snapped. Sloane scooped her up in his arms, starling a yelp from her. “I’ve got you.” He carried her inside, up the stairs to his room and kicked the door closed.

She dug her fingers into his biceps. “Don’t treat me like I’m broken.”

That tripped his switch, and he took her mouth, destroying that word.
Broken
. She was not broken. Her taste fed his hunger, inflamed his need. Bracing her against the door, he spread her legs and rubbed his erection flush to her heat through their clothes.

Kat sucked on his tongue, riding the ridge of his cock.

Every instinct he had went hot to give her what she needed. Make her come. Make her feel him and only him. No fear terrorizing her.

Sloane tore his mouth from hers, gulping in air. “Am I treating you like you’re broken? Or like the woman I’m so hot for, I’m going to strip and take you against a wall?” Just like he’d wanted to do in the gym.

“No holding back.” She clung to his shoulders. “I need to feel alive. Whole. Not broken.”

That word again. The fucking flashback had messed with her self-confidence. Setting her down, Sloane tugged off her shirt and bra. Dragged her jeans and panties from her. Yanked the shirt over his head and then paused.

Kat stood against the door, her hair spilling around her shoulders. Her skin glowed in the soft light, her sweet little nipples pebbled tight. Smooth belly down to her strip of hair. With her legs slightly spread, he could see her clit peeking out, wet and swollen. Ready. She needed this as badly as he did.

His blood thundered and his cock strained in his pants with eagerness to give it to her. He shoved off his jeans and gathered Kat in his arms, her skin warm against his and nothing between then. No clothes, no condom and no flashbacks torturing her. Just them.

Bracing her against the wall with one arm, he kept his eyes on hers while sliding his fingers along the seam of her pussy. “You’re wet and slick. Feeling greedy for my cock?” Gathering her juices, he circled her clit. In seconds the little bud throbbed.

“Yes.” Her hands squeezed his shoulders, and her eyelids drifted to half-mast.

He lightly pinched her clit.

Her eyes flew open wide enough that he could see her pupils dilating.

Oh he had her full attention now. “I’m greedy for you too.” Gripping his cock, he pressed against her. Her soft dampness caressed his sensitive head. Steeling his back, he fought the urge to slam into her. They both needed more than that. “Not just for your pussy, but for all of you.” That truth was ripped from him. “I want to see you when I make you feel enough to let go and come for me. Don’t look away.”

Her gorgeous eyes locked on him. “I want to see you too.”

Planting his feet to keep control, he tunneled into her silken cunt. Nothing else had ever felt like this. Her molten walls stretched around him like a glove, made to fit. At the same time, her eyes filled with yearning and something bigger. Deeper. She hid nothing from him.

* * *

Kat dug her hands into Sloane as he thrust, slow and deep. He was so big, she stretched around him with a sizzling burn that made her groan. When he circled his hips, his cock brushed against her G-spot and she ignited. Streaks of pleasure flamed her nerve endings. She arched back, desperate for more, when she remembered he was holding her. He could drop her.

A flare of panic jerked through her.

Sloane’s hands squeezed her hips. He leaned closer, his tawny eyes chipped with smoldering sienna. “I have you. I won’t let you go. Just feel, baby. Don’t worry.”

He wouldn’t let her fall. Trust released another wave of sweet and sharp desire. This was what he did to her, ripped away her filters until she felt every touch and word full force. Everything else slid away but Sloane. He circled back in, tunneling into her depths with just enough force to shoot more streaks of frenzied pleasure through her core.

A moan erupted from her chest. More, she needed it. Craved it. Grabbing his arms, she locked her ankles around his waist and rode him. Every thrust built the sensual agony, taking her higher until she panted with near sobs.

“Fuck. Your pussy’s gripping me tighter. You’re going to come.” Sloane’s jaw clamped, neck bulged, skin slick with sweat. He thrust harder, deeper.

At the same time, his eyes pierced her, seeing all of her. “Let go. Come.”

Sudden fierce pleasure bowed her back, snapping her head against the door. The hot spasms gripped her body in wave after wave.

“Oh Christ.” He wrapped one arm around her waist and spun them. His shoulders hit the wall. Sloane held her and pumped hard and fast, his shoulder and chest rippling. His nostrils flared, mouth open as savage desire overtook him. With one last thrust, his cock grew thicker, more rigid, hot enough to brand her, and his seed burst inside her.

When they both settled into tiny aftershocks, he tucked her head against his shoulder. “Not broken.” He kissed her hair while stroking her back. “Beautiful.”

His tenderness nearly undid Kat, touching her too deeply, reaching to the part of her starved to be touched, praised and cared for. But Sloane had been honest, told her he didn’t do romance and relationships.

So that warmth flowing like a gentle river in her chest and stomach? It was just a post-orgasmic glow. That’s all it could be.

No matter how good it felt.

* * *

Moonlight poured through the skylight in the massive bathroom. The jets bubbled the warm water, and steam drifted up in tendrils. Kat was tucked between Sloane’s thighs, her back pressed against his chest and his hands folded beneath her breasts.

“What was it like to fight in front of all those people? Weren’t you nervous?” People staring at her usually made her edgy.

“Not exactly. I’d get an adrenaline surge. Once I was in the cage though, it was all about winning. All I cared about.”

She dragged her fingers through the frothing bubbles and tried to puzzle out Sloane. He sounded cold and determined when he said things like that. But then he’d been kind and patience after her panic attack. Who was he? Which was the real Sloane? “Why’d you stop fighting?”

“I was ready for a new challenge.”

Irritation bubbled in her chest. “Now tell me the real reason.”

His hands barely twitched against her rib cage. But she caught it. Would he change the subject? And why the hell did she keep pushing for more from him? Did she want to end this relationship with a broken heart?

“There wasn’t one reason. Part of it was I had avoided sustaining a serious, career-ending injury. I’d had small ones, like broken fingers.” He held up his left hand. “Broke the first and little finger.” He lowered his hand. “Also had a broken nose, cuts and torn muscles. But my luck wouldn’t hold forever no matter how good I am.” Sloane palmed her breast and leaned close to her ear. “I’m good, Kat.”

Her nipples tightened, and his words shivered over her exposed skin. “Are we talking fighting or sex?”

“Both.”

Was he trying to divert her attention? Why? She pressed him for more. “So injury was part of your reason. The others?”

“Money. Power.” He paused, looking over her shoulder as he trailed his fingers over her stomach. “I’ll never be that helpless kid again. So I looked for opportunities to expand and grow. I started representing fighters. I studied how other powerful men and women became successful and learned. I also learned from those who failed. Some things worked, some didn’t, but I managed to build SLAM.”

Running her own small business gave her enough knowledge to know that was a spectacular feat. And yet Sloane still had an edge to him. What did he want? He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for a family, so what? But she wasn’t dumb enough to ask that and find herself on a quick and silent ride home. “You’ve achieved a great deal in thirty years. You’re an impressive man.” So what was he doing with her?

“What brought up my fighting career?”

“When we were in the car, you mentioned losing fights in front of thousands.” She shrugged, trying to think how to voice her thoughts. “You don’t have panic attacks.”

Palming her chin, he tilted her face up to his. “I wanted people to see me. I wanted to be right in their face and force them to see me.” That’s why he commanded attention. “You hid. Withdrawing to protect yourself. When I first saw you, you were tucked behind a column.”

“Then why did you see me?” All those polished women in pretty gowns and he’d honed in on her. It hadn’t made sense.

“The pink streaks in your hair.”

“Lavender.”

His full lips twitched. “Whatever, baby, those streaks scream
Look at me. This is who I am and if you don’t like it, fuck off.
I wanted you then.” He stroked her jaw. “Still want you now.”

Her mouth dried. “Because of my streaks.”

“You looked cornered, yet you stood up to me right there in front of hundreds of guests. You might as well have waved a red flag in front of my face.” His tawny eyes took on a predatory gleam. “I was determined to find you after that.”

Sexy or stalkerish? But unlike David, Sloane never touched her when she told him not to. “Here I am naked in a bathtub with you.” Something she’d have thought impossible a month ago. “So what are you going to do with me?”

Sloane pulled her onto his lap, turning her so she sat on his left thigh, able to see his face. The water sloshed and bubbled around them. “Damn, woman, you do like flirting with danger.”

“Me?” She scoffed at that. “I’m the baker who hides, remember?”

“Not with me. You liked me taking you hard against the wall. The danger of trusting me to hold you as I fucked you turned you on. Knowing that even when I came, I wouldn’t drop you.” Sloane paused. “Danger and testing your limits excites you.”

Her pulse skittered and nerves stretched. “You’re a bad influence. I used to be a nice girl.” He wasn’t wrong, though. When he challenged her in training or sex, she liked it a lot.

“You didn’t like being nice.” He dragged his palm down her side, cupping her hip. “Tell me something you fantasize about that makes you bad.”

Even beneath the water, his touch seared her. And his low, challenging voice made her feel bold. “Just because I fantasize about something doesn’t mean I want it.”

“That bad, huh?”

Was it really so bad? “It’s your fault, you gave me the idea.” And what do you know, turned out she had an imagination for more than baking. Because she’d imagined it rather vividly.

He drew slow circles on her belly. “You can tell me.”

His words were as seductive and low keyed as his touch on her stomach. “Spanking.” It was so opposite of everything she’d been raised to be. Educated, in control and accomplished, elegant, worried about what others thought. “Why would a grown woman want to be spanked?”

Sloane groaned. His cock thickened against her hip. “Sex spankings are hot. A little role playing, pretending that you’re in trouble. I’d make you strip and bend over my thighs. You’d be exposed and at my mercy.”

Her folds swelled and ached, while at the same time, her heart pounded with trepidation. Could she do that? Why did she want to?

“The first slaps sting, and that will get your attention. If you can take it, that pain will push past barriers in your head to heighten your pleasure more and more until your orgasm hits at nuclear strength.” He took a breath. “Wanting that isn’t wrong with someone you trust.”

“I’m not ready for that.” He’d been honest with her, explained it to her as matter-of-factly as he did a self-defense move, so she told him the truth. “It excites and terrifies me.”

Holding her chin, he looked at her. “You’ll tell me when you want to try it?”

“You’re hard, I feel your cock. See you breathing faster. Is spanking a woman something you like?” She didn’t know how she felt about that.

He studied her. “I don’t have any need to give a woman pain. Not my thing. But I love your ass. So thinking about having you bent over me like that has my dick rock hard.” His smile spread. “If I spank you, Kitten, I’m going to make you come hard. Then I’m going to fuck you and make you come again. One more time, you’ll tell me if and when you’re ready?”

How did he make this so simple? “Yes.”

“There’s my bad girl.” He picked her up, stepped out of the tub, quickly dried them off and settled them in his bed. “Did I tell you about my fantasy? It involves your mouth on my cock.”

Kat was in the mood to fulfill his fantasy.

* * *

Kat awoke alone in Sloane’s bed. His voice came through the opened French doors facing the ocean. A glance at the clock showed her it was five thirty. Curiosity drove her from the bed. She grabbed a robe and walked out.

Sloane paced the length of the balcony, the muscles in his bare back, shoulders and arms flexing. He’d dragged on a pair of sweatpants. No shoes. “Don’t talk to them, Olivia. Not a word, or the money stops.”

Kat flinched at the fury icing his voice.

“Keep me informed.” He pivoted as he ended the call and caught sight of Kat. “Go inside, it’s cold.”

Kat barely felt the chill. She couldn’t drag her attention from him, from the intensity carving his muscles and tendons into severe lines.

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