The Commitment (The Unrestrained #2) (12 page)

"Take your fingers out. Spread yourself for me."

I complied, spreading my lips. Then, his orgasm started and he tensed, grimacing, his face red as his fist pumped his cock. Finally, his expression softened, his face slackening as he ejaculated, the semen spurting out onto my labia and belly. I spread it over myself, rubbing it into me, using it as lubricant, my fingers slipping over my too-sensitive clit, but it felt good.

He collapsed over me, lying directly on top of me, his face beside mine, panting.

"Fuck, that was
good
…" I finally grinned like an idiot, biting my lip to stop from giggling. He groaned into my neck. "You know how many times I jacked off thinking of you doing that? Before we got together, I was so desperate to fuck you. Just fuck you plain old vanilla."

"You didn't imagine us in scene? Me all tied up and blindfolded?"

He shook his head and kissed my chin, my cheek and then my forehead as he rested on his arms, his face above mine. He nestled his body between my thighs, which I wrapped around his hips.

"I wanted you any way I could get you. Vanilla, D/s, kink.
Anything
. I was like a teenager wanking while dreaming of his favorite girl. I knew you'd been alone for a year after Flyboy and I used to imagine you masturbating. Then, when I knew you wanted to experience D/s, I figured I'd better give you what you wanted. But damn, it was hard not to fuck you plain old vanilla."

"Drake
Morgan
, what kind of Dom are you?" I said playfully. "I heard all these rumors about Dr. Dangerous. Master D. Were they all just clever marketing?"

He laughed out loud at that, his blue eyes twinkling. "
Very
clever." He kissed me, long and tender, his fingers threading through my hair. My heart fluttered at the intensity of his kiss. Finally, he pulled away and began kissing my face, my chin, my throat.

"I couldn't stand the thought that someone else would introduce you to D/s. That someone else would be the one to bring out your submissive side and enjoy you. It
had
to be me, once I knew you were interested. So I hatched my Machiavellian plan to overwhelm you with pleasure."

"You have." I ran my fingers through his hair, which was falling into his eyes. "I'm glad it was you."

He kissed me again, his kiss more intense now, as if his emotions were heightened. I pulled him more tightly against me, my own emotions filling me with happiness that we did crash into each other that night at the bar and that I did call Lara and ask for that interview.

"Dawn tried to warn me off you but she couldn't have known that it would draw me to you instead," I said, confessing. "When I saw you at the bar and she said you were another bad boy like Kurt, controlling, trouble, I wanted you. I wanted someone like you. When you turned out to be the Dom who would teach me, you were what I was looking for. I was already gone. I had no chance."

"Both of us were goners," he said and smiled softly. "I'm not letting go of you, Ms. Bennet. I hope you realize that."

I slipped my arms tightly around his neck and kissed him deeply, my love for him making me feel as if my chest would explode. There was nothing I couldn't do with Drake. I could tell him the truth, be who I was, who I wanted to be.

He wanted
me
.

CHAPTER NINE

The next day, I woke up early once more and stood at the side of the bed and sketched Drake while he slept. This morning, he was lying on his back, a pillow over his face, but as usual, he was naked, the sheets in disarray around him. I studied the muscles on his abdomen, noting the way his hair grew in a thin line from his navel to his pubes, the delicious curve of one buttock and the inviting angle of his hip. It aroused me, sketching him like that, and I hoped he wasn't busy so that we could have sex.

Finally, I climbed into bed and snuggled down beneath the blankets. He hopped out of bed once more, leaving me alone on the bed. He went right to the bathroom and I heard him pee, then he started the shower.

Before he got in, he peeked his head around the door and caught my eye.

"Join me?"

I smiled and got up, only too happy to do so.

We showered together and I was careful not to try to push him, despite my eagerness to have sex. He watched me while I washed myself, and then took hold of my hips when I bent down to wash my feet.

"Ms. Bennet you look entirely edible this morning. You're giving me ideas…" He pulled me up and against him, his hands sliding up my body, cupping my breasts, tweaking my nipples.

"You're hungry."

"I'm always hungry for you," he murmured against my neck. Then, he turned me around and kissed me deeply, his arms slipping around my waist, pulling me up so that my feet lifted off the floor. One hand slipped between my thighs. "Mmm," he said as he kissed my neck, his lips pressing on my skin. "I'm getting so many ideas..."

He turned the shower off and led me out, taking a towel and quickly drying me off. He barely spent any time on himself, as if he couldn't wait. He pushed me back into the bedroom and over to the bed, and I gasped when he pushed me back onto it, laying on top of me, his fingers slipped down my body from my throat to my waist and then my pussy, his fingers finding my clit. Then he slipped his finger inside of me, his breathing increasing, his mouth claiming mine once more in a passionate kiss.

He pulled back, his eyes half-hooded. "Spread your legs wide," he said, grabbing my thighs to assist, spreading my legs, his eyes moving down my body from my face to my pussy, stopping there greedily.

He kissed me. "We're going to do each other at the same time. I want you to come with my cock in your mouth, my mouth on you."

My body responded to his words, my muscles clenching. His tongue and fingers were insistent as we lay side by side in sixty-nine position, our bodies arched to accommodate each other. I tried to pleasure him while he pleasured me but at times, I had to stop and moan with him in my mouth. He groaned in response, his fingers sliding inside of me, stroking me. I writhed under his mouth, lost in the sensations, barely able to focus on his cock in my mouth, his shaft in my fist.

My orgasm built deep within me, pleasure spreading down my legs and into my belly, my mind blanking. I tensed, trying to hold back, waiting for him to give me permission.

"
Come
for me, baby," he said, his fingers thrusting inside of me.

I let myself go and my orgasm crashed through me. I couldn't stop from moaning, my body convulsing around his fingers and under his tongue. He kept his mouth on me throughout my orgasm, his own sounds of enjoyment vibrating through my flesh.

While I recovered, he was still, his mouth still covering me, tiny licks on my overly-sensitive clit making me shudder. When I was back to full awareness, I started stroking his shaft and sucking the head of his thick cock once more, eager to feel and hear his own release. He kept licking me, and I knew he wanted me to come again. I tried to focus on his pleasure, stroking him, sucking the head, taking him as deeply into my mouth as I could and soon, I could feel him harden under my lips. He was close.

"Stop," I gasped when his fingers began stroking inside me again. "I can't focus when you do that."

"I want you to come again," he said, his voice smoky.

"I can't do both," I said, trying to stroke him and let my body respond.

"Let yourself come," he said. "Then I will. I'm so close…"

After a moment while he built me up once more, my second orgasm came on from the insistent sucking and stroking of my clit, his fingers thrusting inside of me. I gave in and let the sensations wash over me until once more, I clenched around his fingers, my hips thrusting blindly at his mouth, my thighs trembling. I groaned with the head of his cock in my mouth and he began thrusting in my fist, trying to come himself. Soon, I felt him stiffen, his cock so hard I knew he would soon come. Then, the spurt of semen filled my mouth. I let him pour into me while he thrust, his body shuddering, his mouth on my still-too sensitive clit, his fingers deep inside of me.

Finally, I pulled slowly off him and swallowed, his strong salty taste familiar. I licked his length, my tongue playing gently with the sensitive head and he pulled off me to groan.

"Oh,
God
," he said, gasping. "That was so
good
…"

He crawled around and lay facing me, pulling me into his arms, one thigh thrown over me possessively. He kissed me, his kiss deep and passionate.

"I love you, Kate," he said when he pulled away, brushing the hair from my face, his eyes warm and holding mine. "I
love
you."

"I love
you
," I said, warmth for him filling me. I crawled more closely into his arms and closed my eyes, the euphoria from my orgasms and the happiness I felt being so close to him almost unbearable.

After we had both recovered, we lay in each other's arms. He stroked his hands over my body affectionately, cupping my breasts, threading his fingers in mine.

"That was delicious." He nestled his head in the crook of my neck and kissed me. "I think I'd like to do that at least once a week."

"It wasn't too vanilla for you?"

"In case you didn't realize it, I like vanilla ice cream, too. Besides, my kink is control, with a bit of leather thrown in for good measure."

"You can't let me come only once, can you?"

"Sacrilege!" he said and laughed. "My evil plot is to keep you so thoroughly aroused and then satiated that you can't imagine looking at another man."

I wrapped my hands around his arms. "Other men don't even exist."

He squeezed me in response and we lay in the warmth of the bed in silence.

Then, he sighed heavily. He rose up on his elbow and ran a finger down my body from my chest to my hip. "As much as I'd love to lie here all morning, I have work to do."

"You're leaving?"

"Foundation work to wrap up." He leaned down and kissed me. "I'll be home later this afternoon. I'm going to play one last game of racquetball after lunch with a colleague. We'll have a nice dinner and spend the evening together."

"Sounds good."

"I love you," he said and kissed me again.

"I love you."

Although I would have loved to spend the day with Drake, I was eager to work on my drawing. After he left, I had breakfast, then made myself a cup of coffee and sat and read news headlines on my iPhone. Elaine was out with a friend for lunch and my dad was at his club for lunch and a meeting, so I was completely on my own.

I decided to go to 8
^th
Avenue and spend the day there drawing. It was a hideaway for Drake.  I loved the old apartment so much, I decided that if Drake was going to keep himself busy all day, I'd spend the remaining time before we left for Africa at 8
^th
Avenue, working on my sketch. I'd been in the Chelsea apartment for two solid days drawing and needed some air. I had my key and so I packed up my backpack, taking my pencils and sketchpad with me, and began the hike from Drake's apartment in Chelsea to the 8
^th
Avenue apartment. I walked for half an hour and then caught a taxi for the rest of the journey, arriving at the apartment a little before ten o'clock.

I entered the apartment, and took in a deep breath. It smelled so familiar – of Drake, of his cologne, of old books and leather. The front of the apartment was dim and quiet. I took off my coat and boots, and threw my bag on one of the couches. Then, I walked around the rooms. Soon, Drake and I would leave for Nairobi and leave this place behind for half a year. I'd miss it, for it was here that our relationship really developed.

Such a short a time had passed since we met in October. I went to the back of the apartment to the bedroom and opened the closet, looking at the old leather tie he'd used on my wrists that first time. He could have done anything to me at that point. Anything. Yet, all he did was give me pleasure. He gave me what I wanted and needed, in a way that didn't frighten me. He was extremely careful and extremely concerned that I was never hurt or frightened or upset.

Why couldn't Dawn understand?

Was she jealous? Was it as simple as that? She'd been like me – only a few relationships that were not really meant to be. We were both pretty unlucky in love up till I met Drake. I couldn't imagine that she was jealous that I had someone and she didn't, but it was a possibility.

She was pretty with those wild blonde curls and brown eyes, a nice body. But she was so damn demanding and exacting in her expectations of people. They had to be so morally solid. No one seemed to live up to her standards.

Maybe that's why she was alone.

I sighed and left the bedroom, walking out through the dim apartment to the living room and the table where Yelena Kuznetsova's crystal shot glasses usually stood. They were now at my father's apartment in his bar. I touched the side of the table where I'd hit my brow that night before Christmas when all this came to a head. Then, I went to Drake's collection of old guitars and to the acoustic guitar he'd played that night when I first came over. I picked up the picture of my father and his father as young men over in Vietnam.