Blue Blooded

by Shelly Bell

  He liked her? Those pesky oversized butterflies flew around in her belly. “You sure didn’t act like you liked me. You argued with me over everything.”

  “It was easier to argue with you than to do what I really wanted.”

  “What was that?” she asked, noticing the way her voice trembled.

  “Kiss you senseless.” He cradled her face in his large hands. “You wanted to learn more for your exposé. Let me show you. Until this is over, submit to me.”

  Her throat contracted, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. “What does that mean? I’m supposed to do whatever you say?”

  He laughed. “No, I’m not delusional. That would never happen. Just when it comes to your sexual pleasure.”

  She swallowed thickly. “In bed, you mean.”

  “In bed.” His eyebrows rose. “Or wherever else I decide.”

  “Just until we clear our names?” Her heart beat in triple time as she considered his offer.

  Could she really do it? She’d lived on her own terms for so long, she didn’t know how to answer to anyone. What would it be like to give up control during sex? Would it really help her achieve an orgasm? She doubted it, but what could it hurt to find out? Even if Logan failed to deliver, she could justify it as professional research. But the minute he thought he could control her outside the bedroom, she’d end it.

  Pushing against his chest to move him away, she got to her feet. She’d do it, but on her terms. No pretending this meant anything more than just an experiment for research’s sake. How many reporters could use firsthand experience as a part of their story on BDSM? It was just the angle she needed to get the feature noticed by the national network execs. As long as she stayed professional, she could do this. She gripped the bottom edge of her shirt and began sliding it up her torso. “Fine.”

  Logan stilled her hands. “What are you doing?”

  Frowning, she thought it would be obvious. “I’m taking off my clothes.”

  He smiled and motioned to the bed with a jut of his chin. “Not yet. Lie on your stomach. I want to relax you first.”

  She rolled her eyes as she established herself onto the bed. A massage? Really?

  Lying flat with her arms stretched out in front of her, she closed her eyes, feeling the dip of the mattress from Logan’s weight. She felt the heat radiating off him as he straddled her and sat back on his haunches. An image of him pulling her onto all fours and taking her from behind crashed into her. She could almost imagine him using her hair to propel her body backward onto his cock as he controlled her every movement.

  His rough hands glided down the length of her spine, causing goose bumps to pop up in their wake and a shiver of desire to pass through her core, tightening and clenching muscles deep in her pussy. They were like ghosts of a whisper, relaxing. Soft. Barely touching her, but she felt them deep below the surface. His hands were learning her body, exploring every curve and plane of her back just as she’d desired to do with his chest only minutes before. His hard cock brushed against the bottom of her spine, letting her know he was just as turned on by her as she was for him.

  She melted into the mattress, her nipples rubbing almost painfully against the fabric of her shirt with every pass of his hand. Fingers kneaded the tight muscles of her shoulders, loosening the tension that had been there for far too long. She’d had professional massages before. Had even had a man or two rub her muscles in an attempt to get her to relax, but nothing, nothing, had ever felt like this. Logan didn’t just touch her. He commanded her body. Took control of her mind, leaving behind a quivering mess of a woman with no thoughts or feelings other than how blissfully relaxed she felt.

  In silence, he worked his way down, his hands pressing and kneading and rubbing while she unabashedly ground her pussy against the mattress in anticipation. When he worked his magic fingers into the muscles of her ass, she heaved a loud sigh and fell even deeper under his magnetic spell. Arousal coursed through her body, her nipples hardening and her pussy growing wetter and wetter, so wet she’d bet anything she was leaving behind a spot on the sheets. But she didn’t care about that. She didn’t care about anything at the moment but how good this man could make her feel. And he hadn’t even touched her sexually.

  Yet.

  She trembled as his hands glided down the back of her thighs, his fingers so close to her pussy she could almost feel them parting the lips through her underpants. It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t imagining it. His thumbs were over her panties, spreading her open, giving her clitoris a chance to poke out and rub against the sheets. But all too quickly, his hands moved on to her inner thighs, leaving her desperately aroused and aching to be filled. She squirmed, trying to get his hands back on her pussy, but all she got was a chuckle from him. Knowing she had no control over his actions, she allowed herself to drift away on a sea of calm, concentrating only on her breathing and the sensation of warmth permeating through her body as if she’d downed a shot of whisky. This wasn’t sleep, but she’d take it.

  After he finished molding her feet, he removed himself from the mattress, his missing weight noticeable despite her dream-like state. His scent tickled her nose, and warm breath blew on her ear. “Turn over,” he whispered.

  She didn’t hesitate before slowly flipping onto her back. He inched her shirt up, exposing her breasts to his view. Maybe she should care, but at this point, the only thing she was concerned about was getting those hands on her again. She heard him groan, the sound of it reverberating through her and perking up her already hard nipples. And then those hands were massaging her collarbone, drawing her out of her body as if she was floating above the mattress, only the sexual awareness remaining. All the fear, the guilt, the drive to always work to be better, the best, so that the sacrifice she’d made in giving up her family would all be worth it, melted away like chocolate on her tongue.

  His hands were on her heavy breasts now, kneading in a way that wasn’t sexual, but rather clinical, and yet each scrape of his hands along her sensitive skin sent a dart of lightning to her clit. Her dry lips parted and her tongue bathed it with the moisture pooling in her mouth. He squeezed her breast harder, and she briefly wondered if it was in response to her tongue, but the thought quickly disappeared, her mind too foggy to retain it.

  He’d promised to relax her, but this . . . this was beyond relaxation. It was pure and total abandonment, and she didn’t know how he’d managed to make good on his promise. She didn’t care how he had done it. Only that he had. He’d kept his promise to her, which meant he’d keep his other promise to her. He’d give her an orgasm.

  As soon as the word flashed in her mind, her body tensed. Even with good intentions, Logan would fail on that promise of an orgasm. It was one thing to relax her with a massage, to get her motor cranking for sex, but it was an altogether different story when it came to a climax. Oh sure, she would get to the edge, but she never fell over. She’d just teeter there on the apex of the climax mountain and slide back down the wrong way after the guy got discouraged.

  “You know, I can hear you thinking, Rachel,” Logan said softly, his hands no longer moving. “You were relaxed for a while. Want to tell me what happened?”

  No, she didn’t. She just wanted to get back to that place where fear and recrimination didn’t exist. Kate and Danielle had spoken to her at length about the high they got from surrendering to their lovers, but she never quite got it. She still didn’t. Not completely. But she was beginning to understand it. She’d taken care of herself for so long, she didn’t know how to let anyone else do it for her.

  “I don’t know,” she said, opening her eyes. He didn’t press her for more. Just nodded, clearly not buying the lie, but having the decency not to confront her on it. Her body hummed with arousal as she realized Logan was straddling her again, the only thing separating his cock and her pussy, tiny bits of fabric covering them both. If she raised her hips and he pulled aside the cotton, he could drive himself into her, filling her and st
retching her with what appeared to be an above average-sized dick. Maybe she wouldn’t come, but she’d still enjoy it. And even better, she could take back the control she desperately craved. Make him come hard so at least he’d go to sleep and leave her alone with her racing thoughts.

  His hands braced her hips as he stared at her, his eyes crinkled in curiosity. When he removed himself from his position over her body, she couldn’t help the knot of disappointment stuck in her throat. He was giving up. She should be used to it, but she had a moment of weakness, believing he might be different.

  He strode over to the window and bent, retrieving his duffle bag. Well, she wouldn’t be getting an orgasm, but at least she’d gotten one hell of a massage out of it. Maybe now he’d help her find a computer and she could get to work while he slept. That way, by the morning, she’d have a lead on who this Leopold was and why those agents were so interested in him. Once they got back on the road, she’d get her two hours of sleep and she’d be golden by the time they showed up at the port tomorrow afternoon.

  Jarring her, he dropped the bag on the mattress. With a purposeful stride, he returned to stand by the side of the bed and rifled through his bag, coming up with rope and three bandanas.

  Her stomach performed somersaults over the items in his hands and the wicked gleam in his eyes.

  He hadn’t given up.

  He’d just gone for reinforcements.

  Heaven help her, she was about to be inducted into the kinky hall of fame.

  Her eyes settled on the growing bulge behind his boxer briefs. Hell, the tip of it was peeking out at the top. He wasn’t just packing. He was huge. No wonder he was so cocky. He had the goods to back it up.

  At the lick of her lips, he scoffed, catching her eying him appreciatively. “I told you, I’m not going to fuck you tonight, so stop looking at me as though you’re starving for me, because no matter how much you want it, you’re not getting it tonight.”

  “But, if I’m willing and you’re aching, what’s the problem with me relieving that ache for you?”

  “The problem is you’re not ready to be fucked by me yet.” He bounced the rope between his hands, his voice taking on a deeper, stronger tone. “Baby steps, Tiger. You need to learn how to give up control before I reward you with my cock. I won’t die if I don’t come tonight, so don’t worry about taking care of my needs. In this room, I am in control and the only thing I want is you naked right now, so while I stand here and watch, I want you to take that shirt off and slide those panties that are teasing me out of my ever-fucking mind because I want to see what belongs to me now. I need to play with those gorgeous tits of yours, see how sensitive they are, get my lips around those nipples that are poking out at me through your shirt, begging me to suck on them. I want to check if that pussy is as spicy as that mouth of yours during our verbal sparring sessions or as sweet as it is when you’re crooning to that ugly-assed dog of yours. And darlin’, the only thing I want you to do is nothing.”

  He placed one knee on the bed and leaned toward her. “You’re not responsible for your orgasms, you got me? They’re mine. Mine to give. Mine to take. And trust me, when I want something, I get it.”

  She made her living with her voice, but she was struck speechless. No one had ever spoken to her like that in her life. Her friends had laughed about a dominant man and how they could use their voices to train their pussies into coming on demand. Rachel had always assumed they were full of shit, exaggerating. No one could come on demand without physical stimulation. Now, hearing those words come out of Logan’s mouth in that panty-melting, pussy-creaming way of his, she could believe it. Her clit was pulsing, swelling from his voice. If he could manage that from just his voice, what the hell would it be like when that mouth actually touched her?

  She exhaled a loud breath, thinking about his tongue flicking at her clit and his breath bathing her in its fiery heat. “You keep your kink junk in your go-bag?”

  As if he could see straight through her defenses, he smirked. “None of this is ‘kink junk’ as you put it. They’re essential items for any go-bag. You can turn any ordinary household item into something kinky. Since I’m going to blindfold, bind, and gag you,” he said, picking up the bandanas and then dangling them in his hand, “you’ll need a way to communicate if you want me to stop.” He handed over one of the strips of fabric. “If you drop the bandana, I’ll remove the gag so you can talk. Now let me see what’s mine.”

  She swallowed hard, nodding. Trust didn’t come easy to her. Even her friends didn’t know who she was underneath the woman they knew as Rachel Dawson. How could they when she could barely remember? But for some reason, she did trust Logan Bradford, and that had to mean something. Maybe, just maybe, he was seeing the woman she’d kept hidden away from the rest of the world. She trembled, the thought equally exhilarating and terrifying. What if she bared herself to him and he found her lacking?

  Logan claiming ownership of her shouldn’t set her blood on fire, but it did. It’s temporary, she reminded herself. There was nothing wrong with giving up control and gifting it to another. She’d done the countless hours of research for her exposé on BDSM and had spoken at length with both Danielle and Kate. There was strength in submission. She couldn’t deny it. And she was strong.

  She just wasn’t sure if she was strong enough.

  Guess there was only one way to find out.

  Chapter Ten

  “STAND UP,” LOGAN said, hauling her to her feet. “Now take off your clothes, starting with your shirt.”

  Man, he was bossy. Yet somehow, the bossier he was, the slicker she became between her thighs. She wondered what he’d do if she refused. Would he spank her? Did she want him to? She smashed her lips together to keep from giggling. Maybe another time she’d try it and find out.

  She slid her shirt up her body and over her head, dropping it on the floor. Logan’s heated gaze went straight to her chest as she reached around to unclasp her bra. As it fluttered away from her breasts, he inhaled sharply and bit down on his lower lip as if this was the first time he’d seen them. His hands were clenched into fists and she watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed.

  He might be in charge, but she still had the control, the power to make him crazy with lust for her. She snagged her panties with her thumbs and slowly slid them down her thighs, stepping out of them and leaving herself bare for his hungry perusal.

  He blinked rapidly, his gaze falling to her bared pussy, and he hummed in the back of his throat. She was proud of her body. Several men had complimented her on it, but never once did those compliments make her feel the way she did right now with Logan. He didn’t need to use any words because everything he was thinking could be found on his face. His nostrils were flared, his eyes hooded.

  He wanted her.

  Which made it that much more confusing that he refused to fuck her.

  “Come closer,” he ordered, his voice thick with arousal.

  Her heart banged a staccato beat as she took a step toward him.

  He placed the bandanas on the bed and dangled the rope from his hand. “I’m not going to gag you or blindfold you until I’m finished binding you because I want you to see what I’m doing and to let me know if the ropes are too tight.” He motioned for her to turn around with his finger.

  She faced away from him and hissed out a breath as his arms circled her under her breasts. “I’m going to start like I did at Benediction. And for your research, this is called Shibari.”

  “Japanese rope bondage, right?” she asked, trying to distract herself from the fact Logan’s fingers were brushing the sides of her breasts and that her nipples had perked up, as if begging to get in on the action.

  “Did your homework, huh?” She heard the amusement in his voice. “Anyone can tie a knot, but there’s something esthetically beautiful in Shibari. It turns rope into art.” While he placed the rope under her breasts, his thumbs stroked lazily over her distended nipples, back and forth, as
if they had all the time in the world.

  Her breath whooshed out of her, half hiss and half moan. She trembled, already feeling as though she was losing control of her body, and he’d only barely touched her. “I know for a fact you weren’t into kink when you met Kate, so when did you start practicing Shibari?”

  Logan and Kate had interned at the same law firm their final year of law school when Kate had gone undercover at Benediction to help prove her then-client, Jaxon Deveroux, innocent in the murder of his wife. Because Logan had helped them solve the murder and because he was now Kate’s law partner, Jaxon returned the favor by buying him a membership to Benediction.

  His breath blew on her ear. “I guess it depends on how you want to define kink. I didn’t participate in the BDSM community or join a club until recently, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t tying up women and having my way with them before. I’ll admit, Shibari is new to me. When Cole discovered my interest in bondage, he introduced me to a friend of his who mentored me in Shibari and Kinbaku, which is another kind of Japanese rope bondage. But yeah”—he bit down on her earlobe and then sucked it into his mouth, easing the sting—“I’ve always been kinky.”

  All too soon his mouth disappeared and he went back to work. She looked down, admiring the way he’d secured her heavy breasts with the silky rope. They swelled, aching for his caress. She wanted his mouth on them now, using his teeth and tongue just as he had on her earlobe, and with any other man, she would’ve demanded it. But there was something about trusting Logan would get there on his own time frame that amped up her arousal.

  Her breathing slowed even as her pulse raced, a warm, syrupy sensation sweeping her body, and her eyelids grew heavier with each slide of rope on her feverish skin. The room shrunk so that all she knew was Logan. The crinkle of his brows, the beads of perspiration dotting his forehead, the slide of his tongue across his bottom lip as he concentrated on his task of tying her. He smelled like sex on a hot summer day, his scent dizzying and stimulating all at once. She couldn’t remember a time when she had been so aware of another person or when she’d enjoyed a man’s touch this much.