Surrender (14 page)

His gaze left my face. His fingers loosened. “Go. Find something to prove your brother’s innocence.”

“I’m going to do my best.” I took a couple of steps away but then turned right around and flung myself into his arms. I clung to him, ear pressed to this chest. His rapid heartbeat pounded in my head. “Thank you,” I said. “For helping him, even though you don’t believe he’s innocent.”

“You’re welcome.” He had tensed up. I could feel it.

With great effort, I managed to back out of his arms. I clenched my hands, fighting the urge to flatten myself against him again. “I’m sorry,” I said, my gaze dropping to the floor. “I guess . . . I’m confused. I need a friend, and you’ve been so great.”

He lifted my chin and gazed deeply into my eyes. “Sweet Abigail. There’s nothing wrong with needing a friend. There’s nothing wrong with needing to be held. I’m the problem. Me. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“When you get near, I . . . have certain urges.” His neck turned an interesting shade of red.

“Okay, that I get.”

“We started off on a bad note. My fault. I’m trying to make things right, to treat you as you deserve. But when you come too close . . .” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’ve said it before. I’m weak.”

“No weaker than me,” I confessed. “I feel the same way.” My heart started thumping hard in my chest. “I want you to touch me. I crave your kiss.”

“But you know what kind of man I am.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “You deserve so much better than me. I’ll use you up until there’s nothing left.”

“Won’t you give me a chance to find that out?”

His eyes widened. “Are you saying you aren’t afraid?”

“I’m saying I am afraid, but that isn’t going to stop me from wanting you.”

He scooped me into his arms and gave me a crushing kiss. My head spun as he carried me across the room, kicked open a bedroom door, and laid me on the bed. The kiss didn’t end. Not when he practically tore my clothes off me, or when I did the same with his. Nor when he climbed over me. Within minutes I was burning for him, from head to toe. Writhing and groaning and whimpering. He cupped a breast, kneading its fullness and I arched my back, spine tightening.

Yes, at last I’d told him what I wanted. Finally we’d disposed of the shoulds and should nots. We wanted each other. There was no reason why we had to deny ourselves.

I reached up, raking my fingernails down his chest, and he grabbed my wrists and forced them up, over my head. “You have no idea what you’re in for,” he growled.

“Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Both?”

I couldn’t help smiling. “Mmmm.”

Holding my wrists in one fist, he reached and grasped.

“What are you doing?”

“I need something to tie your wrists.”

A little shiver of anticipation zigzagged through me. While it did intimidate me somewhat that he seemed to need to tie me up almost every time we had sex, I also enjoyed being powerless and completely under his control. It was a secret thrill, feeling so utterly immobilized.

He found my bra, used it to bind my wrists together. Then he sat up on his knees and looked down at me. My blood burned at the fire I saw in his eyes. He was a beautiful, powerful, slightly dangerous man. And he made me feel things I never thought I’d feel.

“Open your legs for me,” he commanded in that voice that sent shivers up and down my spine.

I bent my knees and eased them apart, exposing myself to his dark gaze.

A wave of throbbing heat pulsed there, where his gaze was fixed. I wriggled and tried to catch my breath.

“Your pussy is so sweet. Tight and wet for me.”

I whimpered. “Yes. Yes.”

“But you’re not ready yet. No.”

14

W
asn’t ready for him? Really?

How much more ready could a girl be? My inner walls clenched. All I could think about was his thick rod stroking in and out, in and out, pounding deep and hard.

He turned his attention back to my breasts. As he weighed the fullness of each one, he tormented the other’s nipple, pinching, tugging, pulling it until little blades of pleasure-pain pierced my body. I alternated between arching toward his touch and shrinking away from it. It hurt, but good.

So good.

He crawled off the bed.

“Where are you going?” I asked, desperately hoping he hadn’t changed his mind.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Standing over me, he flicked the nipple he’d been torturing and smiled. “You look so pretty like this, burning for me. I can barely stand to leave you. Even for just a moment.”

So why was he going? What could be so important that he had to leave right now?

I didn’t ask. I merely nodded.

He reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a padded satin sleep mask. “I think you’ll enjoy this,” he said as he strapped it in place. Now blind, I waited, body trembling, blood pounding, heat pooling between my legs. If I thought the torment would ease with him gone, I was wrong. Dead wrong.

By the time he returned to me, I was almost breathless. Whether it was one minute or an hour, I couldn’t say. Time seemed to drag.

He said, “I have a few things for us.” The bed’s mattress sank under his weight. He was next to me. That side of my body tingled. Still, even though I knew he was right there, I startled when he touched my thigh. “Anxious?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He wrapped something around my leg, a strap of some kind. Then he pulled my legs wider apart and fastened another one around the other leg. Right away I could tell I couldn’t move them. Now both my hands and legs were bound and I was blindfolded. A wave of nervous anticipation rushed through me.

What would he do next?

“How do you feel when you’re bound?” he asked. “Are you afraid?”

“No.”

“Perhaps you should be?”

A shiver zipped through me. “Why do you say that?”

“I warned you, you have no idea what you’re in for.” He was bent over me now. I could feel his breath gusting over my chest. It was like a feather-light caress. Soft. Fleeting. In the next instant a sharp pain pierced me again. My nipple. I jerked, muscles clenched. When it didn’t ease up, a little sob slipped out.

“Too much? If it is, say red. If it isn’t, trust me. You’ll like what comes next.”

I held on. My fingers clenched into fists, fingernails digging into my palm.

Finally it stopped. His warm, wet tongue swirled around the hard little nub, soothing the pain, and a strange sensation zoomed through me. Adrenaline. A rush of energy and pleasure. Oh, it was intense.

“Now you see why?” he said, his voice husky.

“Why . . . ?” I echoed, barely able to speak. It was as if my nerves had become supersensitive. I could smell his skin. I could hear his breaths and the slough of fabric as he moved over the cool sheet stretched under us. Everything was amplified. Intensified.

“Can you say red?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Say it for me,” he murmured as his teeth grazed my other nipple.

“Red.”

“Good.” Something cold and hard pinched my other nipple. But I didn’t shrink away from the pleasure-pain this time. I tightened all over, gritted my teeth, and waited, knowing there would be a wonderful reward coming soon.

“Your trust is so exquisite,” he said softly, his voice reflecting deep emotion. “I am in awe of you.”

Ever so gently, he laved that nipple with his tongue, drawing out the pleasure, easing the pain. With each lick, the heat pounding through my body intensified. With each lick, I became more desperate for his next touch.

He licked and kissed and nibbled his way to the cleft between my breasts, then continued lower, down the center of my stomach. As he came closer to my aching center, I tilted my hips up, tightening everywhere, silently pleading for just one touch between my legs.

His little kisses skirted around the area that burned the hottest. He bit my inner thighs, and my legs trembled. I strained against the restraints holding them in place. I wanted to open them wider, to open myself to him fully.

Something brushed across my nether lips, and I jumped.

“Patience, Abigail.”

Patience? How could he say that to me? I’d been patient. For a lot longer than he realized. “Take me,” I whispered, tipping my hips up.

“Now, that is an intriguing invitation, but I’m not ready yet.”

I whimpered. “If you’d untie me—”

“No, what fun would that be? You make a small effort at seduction, but only because I’ve put you in the position of having to. You prefer it like this, being powerless.” A light touch meandered up the inside of my thigh.

My entire being focused on that fingertip or toy or whatever it was as it traveled inch by inch closer to my center. Beneath my skin, my muscles quivered. My heart rate raced. My blood pounded in my veins. He was right. Absolutely. I craved this, how he tormented me, drew out my longing until it was nearly excruciating.

He did that now. His touch strayed up over my mound across my body and back down the other thigh. My skin tingled, goose bumps puckering in the wake of that light, teasing stroke. But I was in agony, and there was no reason to think it would end anytime soon.

Surrendering to it, I absorbed all the sensations fueling the fire burning deep inside. The sound of my own little gasps and moans. The scents of my need and Kam’s skin and his minty breath. The sensation of my body quivering and tightening as my need grew and grew.

I didn’t beg. I didn’t plead. I merely accepted every touch, every stroke, every pinch.

“Ah, yes. You’re learning so quickly.” Now his voice was smooth and low, the vibration humming through me. I didn’t allow myself to think about what might come next. I didn’t allow myself to think at all. I just felt.

This time, when that soft touch wandered up my thigh, it didn’t wander off its target; it dipped between my wet folds. I felt them open to him, welcoming his exploration. A pulsing throb vibrated there as his exploration grew more aggressive. A light touch turned to a firm stroke. And that turned to a series of circles over my clit. And that turned into a series of thrusts inside. I couldn’t help clenching my inner walls around his invading digit. I wanted to hold him there, keep him there forever.

He stopped, and I bit back a cry of agony. My tissues were twitching, odd little prickles between my legs. Still, I didn’t move, didn’t plead.

I heard the slough of clothing. Yes, finally! Soon I would feel his skin against mine. I would feel his arms around me. I would feel his thick rod stroke away the ache he’d ignited deep inside.

The sound of lube being squirted cut through the tense silence. At last, there was another touch. Something slick pushing between my buttocks. When that thing pushed at my entrance, I relaxed the muscles, taking it inside. It sank deep, then remained there.

“You are going to like this,” he said. He unfastened my legs, pushed them wide apart. The mattress shifted as he lowered himself over me. “Mmmm,” he hummed as he dipped down and kissed me. His kiss was a gentle seduction. Lips. Teeth. Tongue.

Oh yes, I liked that very much.

He kissed my cheeks, my eyelids. He swirled his tongue in the whorl of my ear.

I liked that too.

The skin of my shoulders prickled. Goose bumps. I shivered, despite being so hot I thought I might combust.

The tip of his cock nudged at my nether lips, and I shuddered. The heat swirling through me amped up another hundred degrees.

At last, he pushed inside me.

So full. So gloriously full.

Yes, I liked it. Yes, oh yes.

“Nothing like being filled, ass and pussy?” he murmured against my neck. “Am I right?”

“Yes,” I somehow managed to say. After only a few thrusts, I was on the brink of orgasm already. Trembling. Burning. Tight. I could barely breathe. Couldn’t think.

“You’re going to come.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Tighten that pussy. Hold me like a fist.” He thrust harder, faster.

I tightened the muscles deep inside, and a huge blast of heat raged through me. I was burning up. Oh yes. The first pulse of a powerful orgasm shot through my body, and I cried out. My insides rhythmically convulsed around him, and he drove into me, stroking hard and fast.

His voice joined mine as he too found release. His skin was blistering hot, pressed against mine. His hips slammed forward and back, his rod pounding mercilessly inside my quivering depth until we were both breathless and limp.

I made a little mewling sound when he pulled out of me. And another one slipped from my lips when he gently eased the toy out of my ass. After setting the toy aside, and taking off the mask and untying my hands, he lay down and pulled me into his arms.

I nuzzled him, smiling, still gasping, still shaking all over.

I’d never thought sex could be like this. It was so much more than what I’d ever experienced with anyone else.

“Sleep,” he murmured as he smoothed my hair back from, my face. “We’ll stay here tonight. Together.”

“Yes, sir,” I muttered as I sank into warm darkness.

I woke up to the sensation of a gentle stroke between my legs, and I realized I was lying on my side, one of my legs thrown over Kam’s hip, the other bent at the knee and resting on the mattress. Even though I’d been asleep, my body had been responding to his patient caresses. I was wet. Hot. My insides coiling into little knots.

He entered me from behind. No warning. His invasion took me by surprise and was so deliciously decadent, I couldn’t help groaning loudly.

“This is the way to wake up,” I mumbled as I arched my spine, taking him as deep as he could go.

He wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me in place with that hand while kneading my breast with the other. “Glad you’re enjoying yourself.” He nibbled my shoulder, making little goose bumps erupt across my whole back. “I thought you deserved a little bit of pleasure this morning.” He slammed harder, and I trembled. “Do you agree?”

“Oh yes.”

He rammed into me again. “How’s that?”

“Good.”

And again. And again. And with each thrust, I said, “Thank you.”

Within minutes, I was on the verge of orgasm. I spread my legs as wide as I could and tipped my hips back to allow him to jam that hard cock deep inside. I set one hand on top of the hand that was now tormenting my breast, weaving my fingers between his. My breaths came in little gusting huffs. In, out. Hard, sharp. I could feel the burning heat of an orgasm igniting. Swirling. Building.

Then he pulled out and bit my neck. I cried out, shocked, frustrated.

“I said you deserved a little pleasure,” he said as he laved away the sting on my neck. “A
little
.”

Through gritted teeth, I snapped, “You’re mean.”

He chuckled. “I warned you.”

Using the hand resting on top of his, I pushed down, forcing pressure onto my aching breast. “You aren’t going to leave me like this.”

“I am.” He pinched my nipple, then rolled it between his finger and thumb. Cruel bastard.

“No, you’re not.” I glared at him over my shoulder.

“Oh yes.” Wearing a wicked grin so deviously sexy I was seeing stars in my eyes, he pinched my nipple again. “I am. Because you are still trying to tell me what I will or won’t do.” His tongue swept across his lower lip. “Did you read the contract, Abigail?”

“No. You told me to forget it.” I hooked a hand around the back of his neck and pulled, trying to coax him into kissing me. “But I didn’t throw it away. I will read it. I promise.”

He pressed his mouth to mine, and a moan swept up my throat. I curled my fingers in his hair and held him. My lips parted, and I hoped, prayed, his tongue would push inside and do all the naughty, wonderful things it tended to do inside my mouth.

“Hmmm.” He angled his head down but not close enough. His breath caressed my face, tickling my lips and making me suck in little gasps of air.

Hmmm, indeed. His front teeth depressed his full lower lip, giving me an almost irresistible impulse to kiss it. I pulled harder on his neck, but he resisted.

His gaze focused on my mouth. “I think you need some training. Lots of training.”

I had no doubt I was going to enjoy every minute of that training. Every second. “I think you may be right.” I wrapped the other arm around his neck, and this time he didn’t fight me as I pulled. “I think we should start now,” I whispered against his moist lips. The fleeting contact between our mouths made my lips tickle and tingle. A little giggle bubbled up my throat.

“No,” he said against my mouth. “It’s time to get moving.” He sat up, pulling me with him. And before I knew it, he was carrying me across the room, toward the bathroom. He turned on the water before setting me on my feet, and when I tried to kiss him again, he growled, grumbling, “Would you like to have a cold shower this morning?”