Working Stiff: Casimir (Runaway Billionaires #1) (34 page)

He lowered her, and her naked butt touched something padded. She wasn’t hanging on to his neck so she didn’t need to let go, but she adjusted herself as his arms withdrew.

Cash stroked her cheek, still looking into her eyes. “Lie back.”

She reached and touched the bench beside her thighs. Her fingers found rails along the side of the bench, and she held on as she leaned back. Cash had a small smile on his face, and he watched her, seeming to approve.

The bench-thing rose behind her lower back as she let herself lean back, but it bent down behind her as she lay back farther.

Rox glanced behind herself, unsure.

The bench curved back like a bridge, so that she would be bowed backward across it. Between her legs, the seat of the bench had been cut away so that someone could stand there, or whatever. At least the manufacturer had thought that through.

When she turned back, Cash’s eyes were inches from hers. He had leaned over and was bracing himself on the rails to stare at her. The white bandage on his left cheek glowed in the flickering lights. “Lie back.”

“Okay.” Her voice shook a little, but she inched backward, lengthening her neck as she stretched across the bench. The leather upholstery cooled her naked back. Her legs hung over the end, but she braced her high heels on tile floor. Her head fell back. Blood rushed behind her eyes, and she looked over her boobs at him.

Cash was still leaning over her, watching her lie back. His gaze traveled downward toward her boobs and waist, and a glimmer stole into his green eyes. As he looked down her body, he sucked one side of his lower lip into his mouth and bit it.

Wow.

When he looked up at her, his grin reached all the way to his eyes, and he leaned down and kissed her stomach without looking away.

Without thinking, she reached out and cradled his cheek in her hand.

He turned his head and kissed the heel of her hand, but then he held her wrist and pushed up, still gripping her wrist. “I said, don’t touch me.”

He pushed himself off her and walked around where she lay, holding her arm in the air, and pressed her hand to the rail above her head.

“Hold on,” he said, looking into her eyes again. “Don’t let go. Stay just like that.”

She nodded and held onto the cold rail.

Cash walked over to one of the cabinets, the one that was filled with twisted skeins of rope.

Rox watched him walk away. Light from the sconces shone on his bare shoulders and the bulges of his back, and his tight butt flexed under his suit slacks as he strode over to the case. She had watched that ass for years, wanting to grab it. Now that she had had her hands all over it, she knew that it was indeed as rock hard as it looked under that light wool suit fabric that always clung to the hollows of his ass cheeks.

At the rope cabinet, his fingers walked among the smaller knots on the top row. The bright strands twitched as he touched them. He picked two scarlet ropes, lifting them from their hooks, and walked back to her with them clenched in his fist.

Cash stood above her head, and she watched him unfurl the ropes.

She pressed her lips together, keeping herself from asking what the heck he was going to do.

“Anything to say?” he asked.

Rox shook her head no. She wasn’t going to invoke her safe word.

But she wanted to ask what he was planning to do with the ropes.

She didn’t have to wait long.

He lashed her wrists to iron loops that jutted out from the sides of the bench just above her ears.

When he was done, he walked past her to her feet.

The ropes held firm when Rox twisted her hands, but they didn’t tighten. If she let her hands go limp, she couldn’t even feel the ropes.

Down by her feet, Cash picked up her ankles and bent her knees to fold her legs, and he gently spread her thighs until she felt some kind of footrest through the shoes. He tied her ankles to yet more loops that she hadn’t noticed.

This felt very,
very
helpless. Rox swallowed hard and held down the snake of panic that had climbed into her throat.

Cash ran his hands up her legs and her thighs, stroking her.

Rox looked up at the ceiling, willing her hot eyes to stay dry. If she let a tear leak out, he would see it, and she didn’t want him to see. She wasn’t weak like that.

His hands on her legs, kneading and rubbing her flesh, that felt so very,
very
good.

“You’re tense,” he said.

Yeah. No kidding.
She adjusted her legs as much as the ties would allow her.

He said, “For tonight, give up all your responsibility and control. Don’t worry. Let it all go. I’ll take care of everything,
lieveke.
I’ll take care of
you.”

She should try.

Rox’s body lengthened on the bench as her arms and legs relaxed.

Cash chuckled, massaging her legs and up her sides. “That’s better.”

Rox twisted her hands in the ropes and found that she could reach the iron loops. She clutched them like handles.

His hands roamed her legs, massaging her calves and the tops of her feet. With her head hanging down the other side of the bench, she couldn’t see him unless she curled up, pulling on her wrists bound above and behind her. When she tried, her arms weighed her down. Holding herself up was exhausting, and her abs began to tremble within seconds.

Rox lay back while his hands traveled over her skin.

His strong fingers caressed her thighs, milking the tension out of them. With each swipe of his hands, her body relaxed, until his hands began to reach higher on her legs.

As his hands swirled, each rub brought them closer to her sex.

She began to anticipate each stroke, feeling his large, strong hands press her legs, run up her flesh, and she closed her eyes.

His strong hands rose up her legs again, and this time, he brushed his fingers over her folds.

Her body was still responding to him from when he was holding her in his arms, still ripe from his touch, and a jolt blew through her.

She arched off the bench, and his chuckle floated through the air to her.

His hands firmed on her inner thighs, massaging, and his thumbs parted her folds, barely touching her, giving her only the smallest of touches when she craved much more.

As she sighed, and then moaned, he touched her more, stroked her more,
teased
her more.

One of his thumbs rubbed a tight circle over her clit, tightening her body. The other pushed inside her, rubbing her
there,
deepening every stroke.

She whimpered and tightened her fists on the handles.

Her body knotted, getting close. Her thighs trembled as she arched, feeling every stroke. His relentless rhythm drove her closer to the edge. Her breath rushed in her lungs.

So close.

His hands slowed, withdrew, and massaged her legs.

Rox opened her eyes. “Why did you—”

He was smiling over her bare knees at her. “No talking, or I will spank you.”

Even though he was still smiling that intense, sly smile, his green eyes were perfectly serious.

Her abs started to shake again. Rox lay back on the bench.

Warmth touched her knee, something warm and wet.

She curled back up and tried to brace herself on her elbows, but she couldn’t quite get them to the table because her wrists were tied.

He had pressed his mouth to her knee, running his lips and tongue over the inside of her thigh. His hand was braced against her other knee, his forearm turned so she could see the tattoo of the three shields: the red and white checkerboard, the one with the three crowns on a blue field, and the last one—the one that always drew her attention—white lion, aflame, on bright orange.

Didn’t the Dutch national sports teams wear orange? She seemed to remember from the last Olympics, that the Dutch team had worn glowing, neon orange.

Rox fell back, breathing hard.

The warmth of his mouth traveled up the inside of her leg, blowing humid warmth over her skin and making her thigh quiver when he reached halfway.

He nipped her then, a quick clip with his teeth that stung, and then he soothed her skin with his tongue.

Rox anticipated each tortuous lick and sucking kiss as his mouth ascended her leg. He pressed his hand to her other thigh, opening her legs farther, and the warm air cooled the damp skin between her legs.

The warmth of his mouth crawled up her thigh and over the softness at the top, and he tongued the crease between her thigh and folds before he settled his mouth on her and started with a slow lick that took forever to rub over her clit.

Rox clutched the ropes on her wrists lest she fly off the bench.

He pressed his lips on her, using his tongue and lips like a long, deeply penetrating French kiss. Her body trembled, every second a torture as she edged closer to orgasm. She pushed with her heels, lifting her hips, and he slid his hands under her ass and tongued her harder, dipping inside her and laving over every sensitive nub and spot,
all
of them.

The iron loops dug into Rox’s fingers as she held on, her breath trapped in her chest. Her body spun, spiraled more tightly as the pleasure wound around her and strangled her. She gasped for air, but her lungs were straining,
almost there.

Cold.

Nothing and cold.

Nothing.

She screamed through clenched teeth.

His mouth had left her clit, and Cash crawled up her body. He had taken his pants off at some point. A small part of her mind was impressed by his multi-tasking, but she was too dazed from the sudden lack of his mouth on her clit to think.
“Wha—”

His cock lay on her stomach, heavy and so long, while she panted. Her body thrummed with near-release.

“Please,”
she whispered.

He growled, “I want to make you come with my mouth, but I am greedy. I want to feel you clench around my cock. I want you to pant my name into my mouth. I want to feel your body in my arms as you twist, helpless.”

Helpless.

“Please,”
she whispered, nearly exhausted. A drop of sweat near her hairline ran past her ear and dropped off her jaw, and more sweat like raindrops gathered on her chest and stomach.

He stepped back—yes, he had to actually
step back
—and ran the thick head of his cock through her folds. Her skin was so tender from his hand and his mouth that she arched just with that, just with him rubbing her a little more. He bent over her, kissing her chest and breasts softly, while he pressed himself into her.

As he filled her—oh so slowly—she squeezed her eyes shut and cried out, not in pain, but because it was all so much, too much. She wanted to beg him to take her hard, to finally break her and let her come, but she was so swollen that he had to carefully, slowly, force his way into her.

Finally, just as Rox thought that she would crack open or come hard just from his insidious invasion of her body, his hips pushed against her body. He groaned and laid his forehead on her sternum, panting,
“Roxanne.”

“Cash,”
she whispered, her hands twisting in the ropes,
“please.”

His body moved in hers, slowly pumping into her, rubbing her clit at the top of each stroke. She was so near that every languid slide into her rubbed the inside of her all the way to the top, and she was throbbing, tightening again, so close
again.

Still moving in her, he slid his hands up her arms, sliding on her slick skin, and held her wrists against the iron bars.

The trembling climbed inside her, her desperation for the orgasm slamming into the fear of the helplessness.

He held her down with his hands and his body and the ropes and moved inside her, and she couldn’t move, couldn’t touch him, couldn’t breathe with wanting him to slam into her and yet the world was turning black around her.

Every movement of his body was nearly sending her over the edge but it felt like a threat, like he was almost hurting her, almost ripping her apart.

“Sub modo!”
she cried out. “I can’t do this.
I can’t do this!”

He flipped his hands around her wrists, ripping the ropes off her hands and switching his arms under her waist to reach the other one. He whispered, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

She curled up and grabbed his neck. “You’re going to hurt me. I don’t want you to hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He released her ankles with one tug on each rope and cradled her to his chest. His cock was still deep inside her. “I was never going to hurt you.”

“Yes, you
are.”

He rubbed his hands down her spine and whispered, “Do you want to stop?”

Tension chained her, tight around her waist and between her legs, and she ground her body against him, so close to her release. “Please, don’t stop. Just don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me.”

He leaned her back, one arm cinched around her waist, and stroked up into her.

A sound rumbled deep in Rox’s throat, and she lifted her hips, trying to fit herself farther over him, almost screaming her frustration.

He pushed deeper into her, and his body rubbed her clit, sending a pulse through her. She gasped and gripped him as he ground against her.

Cash growled, “I would never hurt you.”

Her head spun, full of whirling passion and light. Her teeth grated in her mouth as her body clenched,
so close, so very close.
“You will,” she whispered. “You’re going to hurt me so much. I can’t bear it.”

“I won’t.”

She whimpered and sucked in a breath while he stroked into her. “This is all fun and games to you, but it’s my heart. You’re going to break my heart, and I won’t be able to bear it.”

He thrust up into her, shoving his body against her as her mind and body tensed down to an unbearable point of light.

One more hard thrust up into her.

And Rox crashed open.

She cried out, hanging onto him, as earthquakes shuddered through her, shaking her from her body to her mind.

She might have died except for Cash’s strong arms holding her together, and she clung to him as she slowly drifted inward and opened her eyes.