He slipped a hand between her thighs and right into
the heat of her. Like hot silk inside. What would his cock feel like wrapped up in that slippery heat?
He pumped his fingers into her, pressed onto her
hard little clit with his thumb, making her squirm. Then he pulled the first pin off.
She yelped.
"Yes, I know it hurts, worse coming off than going on. The blood is rushing back into your skin. I know how bad it is, but it's good at the same time, isn't it, Skye?"
"Yes…" She groaned, her head thrashing from side to 37
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side.
"You can handle it. I promise you." He leaned in and brushed a kiss over her hot cheek. "It's about to get much worse."
He pulled another pin off, and this time, rather than
waiting for her to ride the pain out, immediately pulled off two more. She arched up off the table. He plunged his fingers deep into her pussy.
"Oh!"
"Yes, pain and pleasure, all at the same time." He caught her face in his free hand, held her chin, forcing her to look at him. Her golden brown eyes were glowing.
"You love it, don't you, Skye? Tell me you want more."
"Yes…," she panted. "Please, Adam."
The pant turned into a whimpering cry when he
circled her clit with his thumb, pressing down. He took another pin off.
"Oh…oh, oh, oh…"
He pumped his fingers into her, removed the last
few pins in rapid succession. She was crying out, over
and over, her sex clenching around his fingers. And as
she came into his hand, he leaned in and crushed his
mouth to hers. He needed her so damn much at that
moment. Needed her to come into his mouth, to drink in
her breath, to taste the sweetness of her. She thrashed beneath him, as much as she was able to in her tight
bonds. His cock was so hard he thought he might burst.
He thrust his tongue into her hot little mouth, pumped
into her tight, clasping pussy with his fingers. And
almost broke apart as she came and came.
* * * *
her breath. And Adam kept kissing her: tiny, hot kisses over her cheeks, her lips, her eyelids. When she was
finally able to open her eyes and look at him, his whole expression was soft, somehow. His eyes were dark and
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glittering, his mouth as bruised-looking as she knew her own must be. He frankly looked undone. Shocking, to see him like this.
Her heart surged. And all she wanted was to be in
his arms.
"Adam…"
He looked at her almost helplessly, shaking his head.
"If I uncuff you now, Skye, I am bound to do something I'll regret, and maybe you will, too." He paused, ran a hand back over his hair. "Fuck me, but I am barely hanging on right now."
"Don't hang on. Let it go, Adam, as I have. I need you."
How was she able to even put a coherent sentence
together? She pulled hard against her bonds. "Please,"
she begged.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered, unbuckling the cuffs from her wrists, massaging them, then doing the same
with her ankles. As soon as he leaned over her to ask if she was okay, she wrapped her arms around his neck
and pulled him down, planting a firm kiss on his mouth.
He pulled back. The look on his face was pure shock,
and she wondered for a moment if he might be angry
with her. Then his whole expression shifted, his eyes
going glassy, color rising in his cheeks.
"God damn it. Damn me," he murmured before he grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her.
His mouth came down hard on hers. Brutal,
crushing. But his lips were soft and warm. His mouth
was even softer when he opened hers and his tongue
drove inside. His kiss was pure animal need. Frantic. She held on while he bruised her with his lips, while they
panted into each others' mouths. It was as though they
were one singular, driving need.
Without taking his mouth from her, he stripped his
shirt off, then his pants. In a moment he was on top of 39
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her, skin to skin. The weight of his body was the most
erotic sensation she'd ever experienced. She had never
needed anything more. Her legs went around his wide
back, and she felt the ridge of a long scar under the
tender skin of her left thigh, where it pressed against the side of his ribcage. But she forgot all about it when his thick cock probed at the opening between her thighs.
And he was kissing her and kissing her, until she
couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All she knew was the
feel and the scent of him.
Adam
.
They were moving together, their hips grinding, his
cock pressing against her mound, burning hot. Her body
shook with need, with the pure pleasure of him on top of her, the wet heat of his tongue in her mouth. She needed to come again.
When he shifted and slid the head of his cock into
her, her sex clamped hard around him. God, he was big.
His cock was a hot, pulsing shaft, paused at the entrance of her needy sex.
He pulled his mouth from hers, looked down into
her face. Then, with his gaze locked on hers, he plunged inside.
She was filled, stretched, hurting and delirious with
pleasure at the same time. The pleasure shot through her system like wildfire. Her clit pulsed, on the edge of
climax already. She didn't think it could get any better until he pulled back, then drove into her body. Her hips moved to meet his. He pulled out, pushed into her again, and again she met his thrust. They moved in a primal
rhythm, sensation driving through her, a powerful force.
She could do nothing but give in to it.
The pressure built along with the pleasure. He bent
his head to bite at her neck, his teeth sharp. She gloried in the pain, in the sensation of him marking her. Yes, pure animal. But she was no more than that as she raked her
nails down his back, dug in as the first wave of her
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climax slammed into her. Her pussy was on fire, his cock pounding into her over and over. And she shattered
beneath him, exploding with a molten rush of liquid
heat.
The scent of him in her nostrils, the feel of his big
body crushing her, it was all part of it. And she was
coming and coming. He didn't stop, even when his own
climax made every muscle in his body go rigid. He
twisted his hands in her hair, and the sound that came
out of him was a guttural growl. Still he pumped into
her, until she was weak and shivering beneath him.
When he finally stopped, she couldn't move. Her
arms were still around his neck, her legs wrapped
around him. His cock was still hard inside her. His face was buried in her neck, his breath hot against her skin.
She wanted to stay just like that forever. Never wanted him to let her go.
At that thought, her chest tightened, and the damn
tears wanted to start again. She bit down on her lip,
trying to hold them back. But she couldn't do it. A sob broke through before she could prevent it.
"Ah, damn it, Skye."
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Adam raised his head, looked into her eyes, and saw
they were brimming with emotion as much as they were
with tears. The sight of her like this hit him like a blow to the chest. "Skye, I don't mean it like that. I'm not angry.
Not with you. I'm angry with myself. I should never have done this to you."
He stroked her cheek, and she turned her face into
his palm, closing her eyes. Skin like hot satin. His hand was wet with her tears.
Shit.
"This is exactly why I never should have done this."
"I wanted you to," she whispered, her voice rough. "I begged you."
"Still, it was my responsibility to stay in control. But I lose it when I'm with you, Skye. You just… shatter me."
Christ, had he really said that out loud?
He wiped at her tears with his thumbs. "I'm sorry."
"Please don't be. Don't tell me you're sorry about any of this!"
"Fuck," he muttered, then gathered her in his arms, and carried her into the living room. He laid her down on the sofa, draped a blanket over her, and sat next to her, naked still. His heart was hammering. Pure panic. What
the hell was going on with him? And Christ, she was
beautiful. He'd never seen such a purely beautiful being in his life. But right now, she looked absolutely tortured.
His gut twisted with guilt.
She stared up at him for a few moments. "Adam, tell me why this was so wrong. Haven't you ever slept with
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the girls you trained before?"
"Of course."
"And I did say on the questionnaire you gave me
that sexual contact was fine."
"Yes."
"Then why?"
He raked a hand back over his hair once more.
Keep
it simple.
"I don't get emotionally involved with the girls I train."
"Who do you become emotionally involved with?"
she asked, her voice quiet.
"No one."
"I see." She paused. "But this was sex. I wasn't asking for anything more. So why was it wrong?"
"You weren't asking for anything more? Christ, Skye, every look you give me, every response to my touch, is
asking for more."
The tears started again in her big, brown eyes, and
again guilt washed over him. "Look, I'm not saying that's wrong. It's me.
I'm
all wrong."
"You feel right to me. Is that…an illusion? Maybe I made it all up, because of what…because of the things
we're doing together. Because of the intensity."
He had to stop and think about that. A lot of new
submissives became attached to the people who played
them well. But it did nothing to explain what was going on with him, why he hadn't been able to maintain the
carefully held control he'd developed over the years he'd been involved in the BDSM lifestyle. He'd held himself
back from having sex with Skye because he'd been aware
from the first moment he'd seen her that he could easily lose control. The attraction had been too strong—insanely strong. So, why hadn't he just turned away?
Because he'd
had
to have her, touch her, make her his.
He was in big fucking trouble.
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Even more so when she asked him, "What do you
think made you this way? What is it that shuts you off
from becoming emotionally involved? And I think,
regardless of what you're saying, you're not completely shut off. If you were, you would have maintained
control, wouldn't you?" She paused, bit her lip. "I know you don't want to hear this. And I don't know whether to be flattered or angry that it's happened with me. Because it's so…it makes it so much harder for me to keep any
emotional distance at all, these tempting glimpses of
what you have to offer, if only you'd let yourself."
She was right. But this was exactly the sort of thing
he could not deal with.
"I can't explain myself to you, Skye."
"Meaning you won't."
Her mouth set in a stubborn line. He had to respect
that in her, that she would argue with him like this.
She sat up, leaned in toward him, and he could smell
her. Her faint, smoky perfume, the scent of her arousal, the musk of sex. That leftover fragrance of him fucking her on the table. But it hadn't just been fucking for him, had it? That's what was freaking him out. Not that he'd done it, but his reaction to it. To her.
"Tell me, Adam. Tell me why."
He shook his head. He didn't talk to anyone about
his past, about the things that had made him shut down.
She was right about that. But he'd never discussed what he'd been through with anyone. Why did he want to tell
her about it suddenly? Nothing was making sense
anymore.
Skye reached out and laid her soft hand on his arm,
said quietly, "Tell me."
He drew in a long breath, blew it out. Was he really
going to talk to her about this? Even as the battle raged in his mind, he said, "There was an accident."
She just nodded, but he couldn't believe he'd said the
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words aloud. The rest wanted to come pouring out, as
though through a crack in a dam.
"It was a long time ago. I was fifteen. My older sister, Beth, had picked me up from a party. It was late. I was drunk. I'd called her to come and get me and my best
friend, Clay." His heart was thundering like a freight train in his chest, but he made himself spit the rest out.
"We were hit by a drunk driver. And she…Beth and Clay both died that night. But not me. I'll never know why I'm still here. Fuck, that sounds pathetic, doesn't it? So, yeah, I shut a part of myself down after that. A normal
reaction, I'm told."
"It is." Skye stroked her fingertips down his arm.
"But it's also a normal part of the process to let it go, eventually. How long do you intend to punish yourself,
Adam?"
"That's not what I'm doing. The accident made me
realize there were things I could do so that I never had to…go through that shit again. Look, we all have issues, our history to deal with. I'm sure you have something,
Skye. What was all of that stuff about not wanting to use your father's name?"
"He was a drunk. He made me miserable. I left when I was eighteen. I don't speak to him. I don't particularly trust men because of him. That's why doing this with you was such a big step for me." She stopped, blew her hair out of her eyes. "So is that enough information, or do you want to continue to divert the conversation from your