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Authors: Tiffany Bryan

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BOOK: Restrained and Willing
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Before he could comment, she bent and dragged her tongue
from the base of his testicles to where his dick started. Swerved off to suck
his right testicle, alternately working on it with her soft mouth and then
swirling her tongue over the tight sac.

“Mmmm.” She rose up long enough to taunt him by running her
glistening pink tongue over her soft lips, gathering up the remnants of custard
around her mouth. She gave him a smile so sexy, he thought he’d come right then
and there. He tightened his grip to prevent reaching out and grabbing her.

In a blink, she dived back to pay his other testicle the
same tribute.

Pierce groaned.

His fingers itched to be fisted in her hair, his hands
guiding her every move. But this was her show and he wouldn’t ruin her fun.
Especially since she’d been so obedient for him earlier. “Damn, that feels
fucking amazing.”

Her head came up, eyes sparkling. “Tastes good too. Want
some?”

“Yeah, I want some of that.” He nodded at the plate in her
hand. Then ran his gaze slowly, pointedly, down her lush naked body. Paused to
stare at her pert nipples. Moved lower to linger at the juncture of her legs.
“Among other things.”

“Oh, we’ll be getting to those
other things
right
after I’ve had my fill.”

She didn’t clarify if she was talking about the dessert or
him. At the moment he didn’t give a shit. All he knew was that he wanted that
soft goddess’s mouth on him again, preferably on his aching cock, but he’d take
it however she wanted to give it.

She raised straight up on her knees, fingered off a piece of
tiramisu and stretched to put the dish back onto the ice cubes. “Open,” she
ordered, bringing her hand to his lips.

He obeyed, trying not to laugh at the small dollop of cream
on the tip of her slim nose, courtesy of the tongue-lashing she’d given his
balls.

He was about to ask if he could lick it off when she said,
“Don’t swallow.” And proceeded to smear some of the tiramisu over his lips,
before depositing the rest inside his mouth. “I’m all about sharing.”

I’m not.
An out-of-the-blue realization that shocked
him to hell and back. He’d shared plenty of willing women in the past. Why the
thought of sharing Heather tied his nuts in a knot was not something he’d be
confessing any time soon.

Her lips met his softly, her body arching to avoid his
dessert-coated cock.

Her gifted tongue rimmed his lips, gathering up the rich
custard and tiny bits of spongy ladyfingers she’d smeared there. Satisfied
she’d lapped up every speck, she switched to full-blown open-mouthed kissing.

A combination of flavors exploded over his taste buds. Sweet
cream, top-shelf rum, strong coffee. None of those ingredients tasted sweeter,
more mouthwatering than the woman he was sharing them with. Pierce couldn’t get
enough of her. Wanted to feast on her delicious mouth forever.

She broke the kiss, leaving them both panting. “Ummm.” She
licked her lips. “God, you are the most extraordinary kisser.”

“You ain’t too shabby yourself, sweetheart. Kissing you is
like eating a triple scoop of my favorite ice cream on a hot summer’s day. Pure
heavenly bliss.”

Her lips eased into a feline grin. Much like the cat who’d
eaten the proverbial cream.

Or was about to.

 

Heather tried not to read too much into Pierce’s statement,
but being compared to heavenly bliss was a compliment hard to disregard.
Speaking of hard, the man had the most glorious cock she’d ever had the
pleasure of toying with.

Thick and oh so deliciously long, she doubted she’d ever be
able to swallow it all, but it sure was going to be fun trying.

She flattened her tongue at the base of his dick and slid
slowly up to the ridged flare, working the tip of her tongue back and forth
beneath the taut ring, avoiding the smooth head. She was always of the firm
belief you saved the best for last.

She paused to swallow the tiramisu she’d gathered and got
back down to business.

She wanted to play first. Learn every swell, dip, meandering
vein, all the in-between textures as they rolled over her tongue. Test his
cock’s flexibility. Not that there was much.

When she caught some of his skin between her teeth, the
subtle jerk of his hips nearly made her smile enough to release him. Almost.
Ahhh, sweet, sweet power. It was so damn heady to be in control of so much male
strength. But nothing compared to his silence, communicating his trust in her
not to do irreparable damage.

She released the flesh. Kissed the spot. Gave it a soothing
lick for good measure.

“Quite the technique you have there, brat,” he said with
half-closed eyes. “You could easily drive a man mad.”

“Not mad. Wild. And not
any
man. You.”

His soft chuckle floated down to her. “A goal you’re well on
your way to accomplishing. Just make sure that once you get what you want,
you’re prepared for what you’ll get. Wild comes with consequences.”

“Consequences I’m more than willing to accept. An inevitable
conclusion you need to come to terms with.” As she talked, her fingers were
busy teasing over his tight sac. Her opposite hand lightly stroked his muscular
thigh. A sunbaked rock beneath her palm.

“Hmmm.”

She had every intention of keeping him on edge. Compared to
him, she was no expert, but she was a quick study and was sooo done with
talking.

She flattened her palm between his cock and hard stomach,
cradled his dick within the webbed curve formed by her thumb and forefinger,
opened her mouth wide and deep throated him in one smooth motion.

“Fuck!”

Unable to hold him there for more than a couple of seconds
due to his large size, she sucked hard on the way up, made another slow glide
down and, hot damn, up went his hips again. A silent plea to take him deeper. A
plea she’d answer after a bit more torture.

She backed off the slightest bit, shifted her hand to curl
her thumb and two fingers around the base of his dick to prevent deeper
penetration.

Her fingers didn’t meet. But she wasn’t about to complain.
He filled her mouth like he did her pussy. Stuffed to the max. A feeling that
could easily become addictive.

She relaxed her jaw to alleviate some of the tension and got
down-and-dirty serious. She was in no particular hurry to give the man what he
wanted. Not that she was vindictive, but he was so damn good at building her up
before he finally allowed her to come, she was inclined to repay the favor.

Determined to serve him up a healthy portion of the sweet,
sweet torture, she dug deep into her shallow well of patience and set a firm,
steady pace with her mouth, occasionally bringing her tongue into play and
adding a nip or two for good measure. The tensing of his thigh beneath her
splayed palm proved the perfect gauge. She slowed down and sped up accordingly.

“You are so going to pay for this,” he growled.

A haze of delight enveloped her. “Mmmm, I’ll hold you to
that
promise
,” she said just before tap-dancing the tip of her tongue
around and in the slit at the top of his cock.

“Bitch.”

“Would you have me any other way?”

“Fuck, no.”

“Thought not.” She deep throated him again.

His entire body tensed.

She glanced up as she rode her way up his luscious cock to
see his hands clenching the tubing of her headboard. His death grip made her
thankful she’d invested in the strongest model she could find.

After several minutes of indulging her fantasies revolving
around giving him the best blowjob he’d ever received, she finally took pity on
his strung-out, sweat-covered body.

Changing her light grip to a full-out fisting of his steely
dick, she rode her hand behind her lips. Up. Down. Tossing in an occasional
twist of her wrist to ramp up his pleasure. Overconfident in her timing and
ability to judge his body language, she was caught off guard by the sudden
first hot splash of creamy cum that hit the back of her throat. She’d have to
remember the man was apparently an expert at playing possum. The wily bastard.

“Don’t stop. Take it all, babe.”

Like she’d intended anything different. A little salty, a
little tart. His flavor slid over her tongue and coated her throat. He tasted
so damn good. “Mmmm.” She could suck on his dick for hours. Or until her jaw
gave out.

“Umpf.” Or until his big hands gripped her under her arms
and he yanked her up his body to crush his lips to hers.

Guess her being in control was over. Not that she minded.
She loved the way he claimed her mouth, no apologies, just took. His tongue
led, leaving hers no choice but to follow. And she was more than willing to
follow his slightest command. So much so, her nerve endings tingled at the mere
thought.

One firm pull of the fisted hair at the base of her neck
broke the kiss. He pressed their foreheads together. “Damn, woman. You sure
know how to drain a man.” The breathy statement wafted sweetly across her
partially open lips.

“Plenty more where that came from.” She laughed lightly when
her words came out as breathy as his.

“An offer I’m more than willing to take you up on. But not
tonight.”

Before she could weigh in a protest, he ravaged her mouth
once more.

When he pulled back this time, she was pretty much incapable
of speech.

He kissed the tip of her nose and released the death grip on
her hair.

“Time for a shower and then some sleep. Or neither of us
will be worth a damn come morning. And I want you well rested and your mind
sharp for our talk.”

Chapter Eight

 

Pierce lifted his head and peered over the warm naked woman
in his arms to get a glimpse of the glass and chrome clock on the nightstand.
Ten o’clock. Later than his usual early rise and shine. Sure, they’d gone to
sleep after their shower the night before, but not until after another not so
quick fuck-fest. Who could blame him? Presented with all that shimmering, wet
silky flesh, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. Or his dick out of
her snug, beckoning bald pussy. Then there was the tongue-lashing. Damn, the
woman’s taste melted over his tongue better than the imported rich Belgian
chocolate he was so fond of. The mere thought of combining the two flavors—

Heather sighed and snuggled her lush butt deeper into his
crotch.

Instant hard-on. No surprise there.

If he didn’t get up now, he’d be slipping inside her from
behind. Not wanting to risk making her too sore for what he had in mind for the
rest of the week, he bent his head to her neck, filled his lungs with her
familiar womanly scent and carefully disentangling himself, sliding from the
bed.

 

Heather woke to the heady smell of coffee spiraling its way
up to her bedroom. She would have rather woken to a hard male body wrapped
around her, but never a morning person, the aroma of strong, fresh-made java
was a poor, but much-needed consolation.

And was that bacon? Yum. From the time she could remember,
she’d always been a breakfast girl. The man sure knew how to please.

She smiled. Stretched. Took note of all the delicious little
aches. Yep, definitely a
pleaser
.

After lounging a few extra minutes to allow her sluggish
brain to click into gear, she sat up and dropped her legs over the side of the
bed. On a yawn, she pushed to her feet, executed a few much-needed stretches,
then headed for the bathroom.

Halfway there, she paused.

Shit, she felt as if she’d just slid off a horse after being
in the saddle for eight hours straight.

Speaking of horses, the man was certainly hung like one.
With the stamina of a bull. A killer combination in her book.

Her smile stretched into a full grin.

Exiting the bathroom after a quick wake-me-up shower,
wearing only the silk robe she’d bought because it matched Pierce’s striking
green eyes, she descended the winding staircase and followed the heavenly
smells coming from the kitchen. Bacon, eggs, toast, coffee. Pure heaven to her
olfactory senses.

The sight that greeted her stopped her dead in her tracks.
The watering of her mouth had absolutely nothing to do with the wonderful food
she smelled.

She could sooo totally get used to waking up to this the
rest of her life. What woman wouldn’t want to?

A half-naked hunk stood at the stove, his wide back dotted
with a few stubborn shiny drops of water, a towel riding low over his trim
hips.

She clenched her fists against the urge to walk up behind
him and…

Wait. What the hell was wrong with her? She had the man
she’d lusted after most of her life at her disposal, practically naked, and she
was restraining herself? Hell no!

She walked over to him, slipped her arms around his firm
waist and pressed her cheek against his broad back.

“’Bout time. Almost overcooked the bacon waiting for your
tight, skinny ass to get over here.” His tone was teasing.

What? Did the man have eyes in the back of his head? How
long had he been aware of her standing there, ogling his cream-your-G-string
body?

“First, we both know my ass is far from skinny. Second, I
was debating whether or not I’d startle you. Be a shame to splash hot grease
all over that
pretty
chest of yours,” she teased and closed her eyes to
better appreciate the warmth of his flesh against the side of her face.

“No big deal. You just would’ve had to kiss and lick it all
better.”

She caught a glorious glimpse of his thick hair-covered arm
reaching to mound the crisp meat onto a paper-towel-covered dish on the counter
next to the stove. “Attention addict.” She kissed his back.

The soft snick of the burner knob filled the silence as he
shut off the gas, turned and encompassed her in a cozy embrace. She loved
snuggling against his big body. Made her feel all protected and feminine. Not
an easy task, considering her self-reliant tomboyish upbringing.

He gave her a squeeze. “What sane man wouldn’t crave
attention from a beautiful woman?”

She smiled at him. Pressed a light kiss in the well-defined
valley of his extraordinary pecs. Seems she couldn’t keep her lips off the man.
Who could blame her? Besides, she was a die-hard chest and arm girl. The bigger
the better. “You saying I’m beautiful?”

He kissed the top of her head. And to her delight, he seemed
to be afflicted with the same lip-to-body disease. Yep, the perfect match for
her. All that was left was convincing him. “Who’s fishing for compliments now?”
A devious spark lit his eyes a split second before he smacked her ass. “Sit
that cute ass down and I’ll serve you breakfast. But first…” He brought his
hand up, cupped the back of her neck and lip-locked the stuffing out of her
until she feared she’d turn blue from the lack of oxygen.

Lightheaded, she didn’t move until he gripped her shoulders
and gently pushed her back a few inches.

“Go.” He turned her and sent her in the direction of the
table with a jarring swat on her backside, ramping up the heat from the previous
smack.

“Hey.” The protest burst from her lips, but she didn’t give
him the satisfaction of turning back around. Head high, flesh tingling, lips
numb from his powerhouse kiss, she moved to a chair and sat.

She sprang back up on a soft hiss.

Returning his self-satisfied smirk with a mild glare, she
gripped the thick solid glass edge of the kitchen table and gently lowered
herself onto the seat.

“Just a small taste of what you’re getting yourself into,
brat. Consider yourself lucky you can sit at all.” He turned back to the stove.
“This time.” The softly spoken warning drifted back over his shoulder.

Optimism sparked. Would he spank her today? She brutally
doused the hope as she took several calming breaths.

No. No. No.
She would not read too much into his
sensual threat. Risk getting her hopes up only to have them dashed on the hard
muscled cliffs of the man’s chest.

Too bad her pussy didn’t heed the warning. She clamped her
legs together in an effort to hold back the warm fluid that threatened to flow.

A losing battle.

She bit her bottom lip against the dooming moan battering to
escape. Successful on that front, she knew the small dark spot on the back of
her silk robe would herald her state of mind as clearly as an electronic
billboard on the inbound I-90.

Mentally debating several plausible lies for the wet robe,
she welcomed the distraction of the steaming aromatic coffee that appeared
under her nose.

“God, that smells good.” She greedily latched on to the
oversized mug and took a tentative sip of the strong brew. Yet another thing
they had in common. “Mmmm.” She shut her eyes. “Exactly the way I like it.” She
glanced up to see him staring at her. “What?”

“That look of appreciation.”

“What about it?”

From the shit-eating grin on his face, she’d a fair idea
what was coming next. “I saw that same look a time or two last night, only more
intense. Right after every orgasm.”

Yep. Predictable male mentality. She leaned back, setting
down her mug. “Pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Any reason I shouldn’t be?” Up went those amazing arms,
crossing over his equally amazing chest.

Sidetracked by bulging biceps and twin mountains of prime
naked pecs, she momentarily lost her train of thought.

Her gaze lifted to his twinkling one. “Nope. No reason at
all.” She picked her mug back up and brought it to her lips to cover her smile.

“Didn’t think so.”

“Hmmm.” She kept her response noncommittal. After all, what
could she say? No disputing the truth. He’d earned his moment of smugness.

He cut her viewing pleasure short, lowered his arms and
turned to the stove to plate up their food, treating her to a nice rear view.

She’d always been enamored by his physique. She could sit
and stare at it for hours. He was male perfection in its rawest form. It took a
lot of hard work and dedication to have a body like that. But Pierce never did
things in half-measure. Not even when it came to pleasing a woman. The small
taste she’d had of it last night only left her craving more.

Unfortunately all that stubborn determination spilled over
into his convictions as well. Hence, his commitment phobia. Problem was, the
more Heather had learned about Pierce’s father, courtesy of her insatiable
curiosity and talent for snooping, she wasn’t so sure his mother was quite the
faithless whore his dad had painted her. In actuality, it might’ve been the
other way around. But until she had some cold hard evidence, it wouldn’t be
fair to reveal her suspicions.

Pierce set breakfast in front of her, the appetizing aroma
made her stomach growl. “Jesus, are you a closet chef or something?” She stared
down in amazement at the healthy portion of fluffy scrambled eggs and crisped
to perfection bacon on her plate and a stemmed goblet of symmetrically diced
fruit next to it, which made her glad she’d recently gone grocery shopping.
He’d even pilfered a single rose from the extravagant bouquet he’d given her
last night and angled it over the top edge of her plate.
Showoff.
She
would’ve just slapped the food on a plate and tossed some hacked-up cantaloupe
in a bowl.

“All part of the total package, sexy. I told you I take care
of my women. Eat.”

Heather picked up her fork, tempted to reach over and clunk
him on the head with it and say,
Woman, bonehead. Singular
. Instead she
breathed an internal sigh and filled the utensil with a generous helping of the
awesome-looking eggs and stuffed her mouth. Whatever aggravation she was
feeling instantly faded. “Ohmigod,” she said after she swallowed. “These are
incredible.”

“Good?” He sat down across from her and dug into his own breakfast.

She shook her head. “Fantastic. They’re the consistency of
cotton candy. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

He shrugged those big wide shoulders, looking a bit
embarrassed.

Could he be any more adorable? He looked more like a little
boy than the confident, dominant man she knew him to be. Damn, she loved the
man and the many facets of his personality.

“From our cook, Doris. I used to love spending time in the
kitchen, watching her whip stuff together.”

Of course he liked hiding out in the kitchen. For the same
reason he spent so much time with her and her brothers at their house. To
escape the drama between his parents. Her heart went out to the little boy he’d
been.

“She said if I was going to be taking up space in
her
kitchen, I might as well make myself useful and learn something along the way.”

She sensed he didn’t want to elaborate further and let the
short conversation lapse into a companionable silence as they both devoured
their meals. Lord knew they needed the nourishment with the nearly nonstop
sexual marathon they’d indulged in last night. They must’ve burned a gazillion
calories. And if their conversation this morning went the way she hoped, she’d
need a major refuel.

As soon as Pierce’s plate was clean, he pushed it aside and
scooped up his empty mug. “Refill?”

“Sure. Thanks.” She handed him her mug. His hand swallowed
it. She made a mental note to shop for some supersized ones.

Minutes later, he set her coffee in front of her, sat,
leaned back in his chair and watched her.

His unwavering stare should’ve unsettled her. Would have, if
not for the fact his focus was more observational than critical. Whatever he
was searching for, she hoped it was pouring off her in waves.

He clicked his fingernail against the thick smoke-glass
tabletop. Ducked down to peer beneath the table. When he sat back up, he asked,
“So tell me, babe. Is there a hidden switch somewhere that turns this sucker
clear?”

“What?” She nearly choked on a bite of bacon as her cheeks
heated.

“What part of
I read your diary
didn’t you
understand? Any more volumes tucked away I should read?”

“I…”

“Quite the devious imagination you have. Very inspirational.
I’d hate for you to miss out on any longed-for fantasies. It’ll be fun to see
how many we can fit in over the next two weeks.”

“Wait. Are you saying—”

“Yep.”

“Two whole weeks together. Here?”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “I’d planned to head out early
tomorrow for the cabin. How’s your calendar?”

“It’s good.” Even if it hadn’t been, she would’ve moved
heaven and earth to make it happen. “Where are we going?”

“Stand up.”

When she didn’t immediately comply, he frowned.

Shit.
She scrambled to her feet.

“Drop the robe.”

A quick yank on the tie at her waist, a slight shrug and
silk met wood in three seconds flat.

His frown eased. With his finger, he indicated the space
between his legs. “Now, bring that gorgeous hairless pussy over here.”

No way was it a request. Her body responded accordingly.
Head high, pussy thrumming, nipples leading the way, she took the few steps
that placed her exactly where he indicated.

His warm hands encompassed her waist, warming every inch of
flesh they covered. The touch of his lips in the valley between her breasts set
off a chain reaction of sensations. At the top of the list—unrequited need. She
was determined to be everything he wanted his woman to be. Accommodating,
willing, even a flat-out sexy bitch when the occasion warranted. She
instinctively knew he’d never want an all-time
yes
-girl. A strong man
needed a strong woman able to take what he dished out, bend when the situation
warranted—especially in regards to sex—but never break. She intended to be that
woman.

BOOK: Restrained and Willing
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