by Cynthia Eden
His heart burned. Carefully, he released her wrist. Then his hands rose and slid under her delicate jaw. He tipped back her head and leaned forward to kiss her. His lips pressed to hers. Slow. Tender. And he kept a stranglehold on his control.
That control wouldn’t be breaking. Not with her. No matter what he had to do, he’d keep it in place with Carly.
He licked her lower lip, then sucked it lightly. When he eased back, just a bare inch, Ethan promised, “There will be no one in your mind but me. Tonight, I swear, it’s just us.” He would give her as much pleasure as she could stand. All damn night long. Until she told him to stop.
He’d give her anything. He wasn’t going to walk away from her. He’d dreamed of Carly wanting him, too many times. This wasn’t a dream. And he wasn’t a fool.
She caught his hand in hers and walked back with him into her bedroom. The bedroom smelled like her. Sweet, sensual. A light, floral scent hung in the air. Her bed covers had been pushed back, and the brass-bed waited for them. She started to lead him to the bed.
He stopped. “There are going to be a few rules first.” His voice came out too hard, but a sharp tide of lust would do that to a man. Make him sound more like a desperate beast.
She turned back toward him.
“First…if anything scares you, you tell me to fucking stop, got it? I don’t care how far gone I may seem, you say stop, and I freeze.” They had to be clear on that.
“S-should we use some kind of safe word?”
Okay, he just had to kiss her again because she said that with her voice trembling. A harder, deeper kiss. “We don’t need one, baby. Stop is all you have to say.” Stop—and he’d barely breathe. Because this mattered. She mattered.
Carly needed to know that. This wasn’t some bedroom game. This was him. Her. No fantasy but a sexy, consuming reality that might drive him to the edge—but he would not let it take him beyond.
“Rule two…” His voice was growing more ragged by the moment. “When we actually get ready to fuck, you’re on top.”
Her gaze flickered and he was sure that he saw the flash of relief in her gaze. He was trying to set up this scene so that nothing would remind her of the past—or of that bastard Quincy.
“You control the pleasure,” he said. “Because rule three is that you have to tell me exactly what you like…and what you don’t.”
She nodded. “But only if we follow rule four…”
He’d stepped toward her, intent on stripping that t-shirt off her, but at those words, Ethan hesitated. “Rule four?”
“You tell me exactly what you like…and what you don’t. Because I want to give you pleasure, Ethan.”
She pretty much gave him pleasure just by breathing, but he wasn’t going to say that. Not right then. She didn’t realize just what she was getting into with him. There would be plenty of time for that discovery, later.
His hands lifted toward her. He caught the hem of her t-shirt and lifted it over her head, being extra careful not to disturb the small, white bandage near her collarbone. Then he dropped her shirt to the floor as he stared at her breasts. Beautiful. Full. With dark, tight nipples. He wanted to touch those nipples, but not with his hands.
He wrapped his hands around her waist and he lifted her up, holding her easily even as her hands flew out and locked around his shoulders. Then he put his mouth on her nipple. Licked and sucked and she tasted even sweeter than he’d imagined. Sweet and perfect, like she’d been made just for him.
He sucked, harder, as the desire pulsed inside of him. She wasn’t trying to pull away. Carly arched against his mouth, offering more of herself to him. Hell, yes. He kissed his way to her other breast. He licked that nipple, kissed her sweet flesh. Then drew her nipple into his mouth.
“Ethan!” She’d never said his name quite that way before.
He liked that demand.
He didn’t let her go, not yet. He savored her taste. He made sure that he licked and sucked and kissed until she was shaking in his arms.
Then, slowly, he slid her back down until her toes touched the floor. His cock shoved hard against the front of his jeans, so there was no way Carly could miss his desire for her.
She didn’t pull away from him. Her hands stayed locked around his shoulders. Her gaze met his.
“Are you wet for me, yet?” Ethan asked.
A shiver slid over her.
“Let’s find out,” Ethan said. His hands caught her shorts and he pushed them down her body. When he saw that she wasn’t wearing any panties…
Fuck, fuck, fuck me!
He didn’t move for a moment as he made sure that his control would hold. Don’t pounce. Don’t rush. Give her time. Give her everything.
His fingers slid down her stomach, down, on down until he reached the apex of her thighs. Her legs were braced apart, and it was so easy for him to slip two fingers up into her sensitive core.
She was warm. She was wet. But not wet enough.
“Sit on the bed, baby.”
She did, her movements a bit jerky.
He didn’t follow her on the bed. He didn’t want to do anything that would put his body on top of hers, didn’t want to make any move that might make her feel trapped or overwhelmed.
He was used to dominant sex. He liked dominant sex. Hard and rough and dirty.
But this was different. This was Carly. And he would have sooner cut off his own damn arm than scare her.
So he sank to his knees beside the bed. He positioned his body between her legs, and he locked his hands around her waist as he pulled her forward, positioning her at the edge of the mattress. Then he eased her legs apart, opening her even more. Making sure that she was fully exposed to him.
Such a gorgeous, pink treat.
“Scream if you want,” he said. “But I’ve just got to see…”
“See what?” She was balanced on her elbows, craning up to see him.
“I’ve got to see what you taste like when you come.”
Then he put his mouth on her. She tensed immediately, and her thighs tried to close, but she hadn’t said that magic word yet, and he worked her gently. Licking. Caressing. Using his fingers and his tongue, and her taste had him feeling drunk—so good—but he wasn’t stopping. Not now. No way.
He found the center of her desire. He stroked and he licked, and he pushed his index finger deep into her. She fell back on the bed, and when he glanced up at her, he saw that she’d fisted the sheets in her hands.
Good. Not good enough. Had she forgotten the all-important rule number three? He pulled away from her.
“Ethan!” An immediate cry of protest.
“You have to tell me what you like.”
Her breath was heaving out. “What you were doing. I liked it—a lot!”
He smiled. “What part, baby? Tell me…do you want my fingers on you? In you?”
“Yes! Yes, I-I want your fingers in me.”
“And…” He needed her to say it. Needed those words so he’d know that she was with him for every single moment.
“And I want your mouth on me. Please, Ethan…I was so close. Closer than I’ve ever been.”
Her words pierced right to his heart. Closer than I’ve ever been. Shit, did that mean she hadn’t climaxed before? Oh, hell, no, but she deserved pleasure. He’d make her climax until she went wild.
Once wouldn’t be enough.
Not for her. Not for him.
He pushed his fingers back into her—not one, but two this time, and he loved the way she gasped and arched her hips up to him. Then he put his mouth on her. Licking and sucking and not stopping, not when he felt her tense up, not when her hips were riding his fingers. He thrust his hand against her, then he pulled his fingers out, and he put his tongue into—
She tasted like heaven when she came.
She was chanting his name. Music to his ears.
It was easy enough to keep her climax going. Her legs were shaking. Her cheeks were flushed. She was absolutely delec
table. He kept licking her.
He licked her straight into a second orgasm.
When the final shudders slid from her body, he eased back enough to stare at her. He licked his lips, savoring her taste, and knew that he’d always crave more.
But maybe she wanted him to stop now. They were back to rule number three. She had to tell him, exactly, what she wanted.
She pushed up to her elbows again. Her nipples were tight and tempting and he wanted to suck them again.
He actually wanted to kiss her—every single inch of her body.
“Will it feel like that…when you…when your cock is in me?”
He already had precum on his cock. “Ready to find out?”
She gave a nod.
He shook his head. “The words, baby. The words.”
Carly sucked in a sharp breath. “I want you, in me. You.”
Hell, yes. There was no other place that he wanted to be more. Ethan rose to his feet. He took his wallet from his back pocket. It was a damned good thing he was prepared because walking away from her would have ripped out his guts. He ditched his pants.
Her gaze slid over his body.
He put the condom on, rolling it over his erection, then he moved toward her.
Carly tensed.
“It’s okay, baby.” He fought to keep his voice sounding easy. Not demanding. Not animal-like. I feel like a fucking beast right now. Want her too much. “You’re calling the shots, remember? And it’s all about pleasure, for us both.”
She scooted back a bit. Most people he knew—his enemies—said he didn’t have a heart. That he’d lost it and what remained of his soul long ago, but when Carly scooted back, it sure as hell felt like someone had taken a knife to his chest…and that knife was sliding right into his heart.
He lay down on the bed. “Climb on top.” He figured that position would reassure her the most. Slowly, hesitantly, she did. Her knees pushed into the mattress on either side of his body, and her silken thighs slid over his hips.
“Now you do it,” Ethan told her. Control. Control. Control. Sweat was breaking out on his body as he fought to lock his muscles and hold the fuck still. “Guide me inside.”
Her fingers curled around his shaft.
His back teeth ground together.
She rose up, and then she slid his cock toward the entrance of her body. Because she was so wet and ready—he’d made sure of it—he slid right inside of her as she arched down against him.
She gasped.
His eyes squeezed shut. Control. She was freaking heaven around him. Hot and tight and better than he’d dreamed. Yeah, he’d had plenty of dreams about her over the years. Dreams didn’t even touch reality.
“You feel good,” Carly whispered.
She felt fucking fantastic.
“Can I…move now?”
He cracked open his eyes. “I’m yours. Do whatever the hell you want.” She probably didn’t get just how true those words were.
She lifted up, then pushed back down. Her movements were slow at first, tentative. Then she went faster. Harder. The back of his feet shoved into the mattress and his fingers flew up and locked around her hips. He wanted more, so much—
“Ethan?”
His hands jerked away from her and he grabbed the sheets around them. He fisted them, holding tight. If she said stop…
“I like…the way you feel…Ethan…So much…” Then she was moving again. Fast and hot and wild, and his hips slammed up against her because Carly’s rhythm was frantic and perfect. Just the way he’d wanted her. Out of control and desperate for release. No fear. No pain. Nothing at all there but the two of them and the pleasure they gave each other.
She came first. He felt her delicate inner muscles squeeze around him as Carly choked out a little scream that he would never forget. Her body sagged forward and his hands flew up, locking tightly around her.
And then he kept thrusting, loving the feel of her orgasm squeezing around him, and when his release hit him…
Hell, yes. The pleasure ripped through him with enough force to take his breath. Again and again that hard, rough wave seemed to batter him, and it was fucking insane. Too good.
The best of his life.
She was the best.
And when his thundering heartbeat filled his ears, when he heard the rough rasp of his breath, Ethan realized just how far gone he was.
Can’t let her go now. Can’t ever let go.
***
Keith Nelson unlocked the door to his apartment, a fancy piece on the West Side that had been in the family for years. He’d almost lost it a few years back, but luckily, his private practice had started to pay off. The place was his sanctuary now, his escape when he needed to step back from the world and the darkness that could linger there.
He flipped on the light switch.
“Hello, doctor…”
A man was sitting in his favorite leather chair, sprawling there as if he owned the place. He doesn’t. I do. Blood and sweat had paid for that place, no matter what others might think.
But Keith didn’t let his fear show as he squared his shoulders and faced the man in that chair. It wasn’t the first time he’d come home to find an intruder waiting for him. An overzealous patient had snuck in before, and Keith had dealt with the man.
When mental illness was your life, you learned very, very quickly, how to handle the deranged.
“You don’t look surprised to find me here,” the man continued. The light glinted off his dark blond hair.
Did the guy have a weapon? Keith didn’t. He used to carry pepper spray with him, but now that his patients were the non-violent sort—for the most part—he’d felt safer. Safe enough to travel without any sort of weapon.
The man rose. His jacket eased back just a bit, and Keith saw the holster there. Gun.
His mouth went dry.
“I have some questions about one of your patients,” the blond man said as he closed in on Keith. “And you are going to tell me every single thing that I need to know…”
***
Someone was pounding on the door. Ethan cracked open one eye and growled. He was comfortable. Carly was on top of him, she was soft and smelled so sweet, and the last thing he wanted to do was move.
But someone was still pounding. Hell.
“Ethan?” Now Carly was awake. And that meant that she’d move away.
Whoever was doing that pounding had just made Ethan’s shit list.
“What’s going on?” She blinked a bit blearily at him. Faint rays of light drifted through the blinds. Day had come. Day and, no doubt, more trouble.
“You stay here,” he told her. “I’ll go find out.”
But the sleepiness was already fading from her eyes as full awareness flooded back. She looked down at her body, realized she was naked, and hurriedly jumped from the bed, dragging the sheet with her.
Unfortunate.
“I’m not just staying here!” She’d rushed to the closet and was dressing frantically. “It’s my house. My door! I’m going to see what is happening.”
And she was kind of like a whirlwind as she dressed at a rapid-fire speed. He made a mental note. Carly was not into pillow talk. Then Ethan grabbed his jeans and yanked them on. He didn’t bother putting on a shirt because Carly was already rushing down the hallway.
He followed a few paces behind her, and then he saw her put her eye to her peephole. “It’s the FBI agent,” she said, her voice hushed. “Again.”
Agent Monroe was getting on his nerves.
She looked over her shoulder at him. “Charles is out there, too.”
The door pounded again. “Ms. Shay!” A male voice called. No doubt, Victor Monroe’s voice. “Open up! The last thing you want is this conversation happening out here for all your neighbors to hear.”
She yanked open the door. “I figure my neighbors can already hear plenty.” She glowered at him. “And actually, just so you know, the one across the hall isn’t even here. She’s been
out of the country for weeks.”
Ethan closed in, slowly. Charles met his gaze and gave an apologetic shrug. “Saw him coming in, boss,” Charles said.
He’d stationed Charles as a watcher outside the building. Only Charles should have called him and given him a head’s up on the situation. Not let the FBI get so close.
“He moved fast,” Charles added, “so I figured I’d follow him up.”
Right.
“What’s happening?” Carly demanded. “Why are you here?” She backed up until her shoulders hit Ethan’s chest.
He liked that she’d moved closer to him. He hoped that she knew he would always have her back. Always.
“The local cops got a call about two hours ago,” Victor announced. “Seems that a neighbor of Dr. Nelson’s got worried. She went to take her dog out and saw that his door was wide open. When the cops went inside, they found signs of a struggle, and the good doctor, well, he seems to have vanished.”
“What?” Carly demanded.
Ethan’s lips twisted. “Let me guess. You think I had something to do with his disappearance?”
But the FBI agent shook his head. “Actually, I don’t. At least, not directly. We had eyes on you, so we know that you didn’t leave this apartment. Now, do I think you hired someone to attack him? Maybe. But my instincts say someone else took him. Someone who wanted to know just what Ms. Shay had confessed during her sessions with him.”
“The man who attacked me in the parking garage,” Carly said.
Victor nodded. “It’s possible that you weren’t even his original target yesterday. The duct tape, the rope, the handcuffs? All waiting in the parking garage? You weren’t even supposed to come out that way, but Dr. Nelson was. Maybe the attacker just took you because the opportunity presented itself. Nelson could have been the abduction target all along. After all, he’s the weak link. No protection. No Ethan Barclay threatening to destroy anyone who gets close to him.”
Ah, so Victor had heard about the orders Ethan had put out. He’d let it be known—loud and clear—that anyone coming after Carly would have to deal with him.
Victor put his hands on his hips. “So now Ms. Shay, the danger around you is going to mount even more. Dr. Nelson didn’t tell me anything. He held onto the old patient/doctor confidentiality bit, but how long do you think that attitude is going to last if he’s being tortured? Don’t you think all of your secrets will be coming out of him…sooner or later?”