I kept my hands by my sides, cleared my throat and fidgeted on the stool.
“What were you doing down there in the bar?” Declan asked in a low, level voice.
“Waiting tables?” My voice came out breathy and nervous. He waited for more explanation, a dark look in his eyes. I shrugged. “I’m not good with a lot of time on my hands. I had a hard time waiting today.”
“You were impatient?” A dangerous smile played on his full lips.
I swallowed and shook my head, denying it though I knew it was true. I had been impatient to see him. I didn’t know why I was trying to preserve my dignity while I was sitting there in nothing but a scrap of a skirt and a lacy bra.
I remembered how he’d torn off my shirt in the elevator, how he’d pinned my hands over my head and devoured my breasts, sucking and licking as I cried out. Declan’s gaze fixed on my chest as if he were remembering the same thing. I shifted on the stool again, agitated and still so wet. He’d brought me so close in the elevator, then left me wanting, needing more.
“Is it hard for you to wait, Kara?” He drew closer still, bringing a finger to my jaw. He traced my face lightly as if memorizing a sculpted work of art.
I shook my head no, my pussy throbbing yes. “I just didn’t like sitting around waiting for you.”
“Mmm. You didn’t like me having all the power?” Teasing now, he tilted his head slightly to the side. He studied me, caressing my neck with his hands. My lips parted, my breath quicker now.
Softly, he trailed his fingers over my skin. Strong, broad hands, thick calloused fingers traced the outline of my bra. Teasing me, he slipped a finger under the strap, bringing it back out, dipping along the lace, circling but not touching my nipples. Back in the stockroom he’d pinched them, hard, and sucked them full into his mouth.
In a low whisper, near my ear he asked, “Or do you like me having power over you?”
A hushed moan escaped from my lips. He chuckled, low and gratified.
“You made me wait a long, long time for you,” he murmured. “Six years.” His lips made their way slowly down my throat, his fingers stroking my back, my shoulder, my collarbone. He wove a hypnotic spell, capturing my senses with his voice, his fingers, his lips traveling down to the hollow at the base of my neck. “But now you’re mine. You’ll do whatever I please, for one whole week.”
I shivered at his words, my eyes half-closed, my breathing starting to come in soft pants.
“We have an agreement. I’m going to take care of you, Kara, wipe out every debt you have, get you back on your feet, anything you need. And in return, you’re going to give yourself to me. Entirely. Completely. You’re going to surrender to my control.”
“Declan…” I began to form a protest.
“You sent this.” As if anticipating my hesitation, he took his phone out of his pocket. He tapped the screen, then showed me a text. My text.
I’m in. One Week. Anything you want.
Hard to argue with that. I blushed.
He dipped down and whispered in my ear, “I like making you blush.” His lips found my lobe, licking and sucking the tender flesh. His hands circled my waist, stroking my skin, building the wicked heat throbbing between my thighs. So light yet so insistent, his tongue found the most sensitive spots at my neck.
Then he pulled away. “We have a few things to consider.” What was that, now? I could barely pull a coherent thought out of my jumbled brain other than ‘yes, more, now,’ but he suddenly sounded all business.
“We’re flying to New York on Monday to spend the week. You’ll need some clothes.”
“Clothes?”
“I have some business in the city and you’re coming with me. You’ll need to go shopping tomorrow. And I have a question. Are you protected?”
“What?”
“Are you protected? Or do I need—?”
“Oh, oh,” I stammered and blushed again. “Yes.” I didn’t add that it didn’t make any sense that I had an IUD, a virgin on birth control. A couple of years ago I’d decided to do it. Safe, simple, effective, I’d hoped maybe it would give me the push I needed to get out there and start getting busy. Even back then I knew I’d been mooning over Declan for way too long. But then my father had gotten sick and suddenly the problem of my love life or lack thereof hadn’t mattered anymore.
Declan nuzzled into my hair, inhaling, taking in my scent as he caressed my shoulders. “I’m clean, Kara. I’m going to go bare with you.”
I knew he was talking but I could scarcely process his words with him so close, breathing me in, mesmerizing me with his touch.
“I’m going to do things to you you don’t even know about yet,” he continued, his hands up again at the swell of my breasts still in my bra. I was breathing so hard, I could see my rib cage moving in and out, my skin quivering under his touch. Why did we feel like such a perfect fit, his hands so large and strong as they palmed my breasts, his fingers cupping and caressing, teasing me along the edge of the lace. “And you’re going to love it all, aren’t you, Kara? You’re going to learn to crave my discipline.”
“Declan,” I panted, reaching up to his shoulder, so large and so powerful. He grasped my wrist in his hand, holding it secure, bringing it behind my back. He kept it there, pinning it behind me while he stroked the soft inside of my wrist.
“I’m going to bring out your darkest desires,” he murmured. I shivered at his promise, his warning. Watching my face, taking in my every reaction, he brought his free hand to my aching nipple, pressing erect and needy against the border of the lace. Slowly, gently, he eased the demi cup down, just enough to set it free. So swollen, so sensitive, I gasped, looking down and seeing how exposed I was. My body begged for his touch.
“I’m going to unleash your fantasies, the ones you don’t even admit to yourself that you have. I’m going to give you what you want when you stroke yourself in the dark at night.” With that, he brought his large fingers to my sensitive nipple and pinched, hard, shooting sensation directly down to my throbbing, slick sex.
“Ah!” I cried out, eyes half closed, pushing my breast into his hand. He still held my arm behind my back and I loved the feel of his strength, his control.
“You’ve been naughty.” His voice grew harsher, more disciplined. “Naughty girls get punished. You’re going to take your punishment, Kara. And you’re going to like it.”
Confused, scared by the strength of my own reaction even more than his words, I broke away. “I need…” To find where I left my mind, slap some sense into myself, start breathing again. “Where’s the bathroom?”
He leaned back and pointed through a doorway.
I made it there, closing the door and locking it behind me. Splashing cold water on my face, I tried to clear my head. I closed my eyes and pressed into a white hand towel, soft against my skin, and stayed like that for a minute steadying my breath.
It all felt like too much. I’d come here seeking his help, knowing it was risky, but I’d had no idea to what extent. I’d never imagined myself in this position, faced with having to choose whether or not to offer myself up for a week to the man who already held such power over me. I never would have believed I’d be so tempted to say yes.
I was older now so I guess I’d thought I’d be wiser, more in control. I’d dismissed my earlier feelings as teenage infatuation. I didn’t think Declan would still affect me so strongly. But he made me absolutely crazy. It might even be worse than it ever had been before. It shouldn’t be possible, but it was. I’d been a fool to think otherwise.
I opened my eyes to an expanse of white marble. In the mirror, a trashy skank escaped out of a bar brawl looked back at me. Hair sprung every which way, lips swollen from rough kisses, I wore nothing but a bra since my shirt had been torn clean off.
What did everyone think down in the bar? Declan had barreled his way through, shoving chairs and men aside like a predator pouncing on its dinner. Thankfully he hadn’t punched that guy who’d had his arm
around me. He hadn’t had to, the Ken doll had shrunk away.
Trish must have lost her mind. Declan had made quite a scene, tossing me over his shoulder like a warrior claiming his prize after a battle. I remembered the longing in Trish’s voice when she said she wanted a night with him.
Damn, was she right. I exhaled, hands on my stomach. Declan was all that. I could still feel his hands on me, the roughness of his palm followed by a soothing caress. Oh God did I want him.
In the mirror, I had to admit, though I looked like I’d been through a tornado and a wolf attack I also looked… alive. Eyes bright and shining, lips plump and parted. He’d woken me up. I’d been sleepwalking day to day for a long, long while. Now, every fiber of my being was tingling and buzzing, craving his next touch.
Part of me wanted to just let go, be reckless, allow myself to do this. I was so sick of playing it safe, doing what was expected, stoically meeting whatever challenges life threw my way. And there’d been so many challenges these past few years, sickness and death and bankruptcy. I was only 24 but sometimes I felt like those numbers had been reversed. I wanted to be wild, for just one week, and have the freedom to not care.
But that was exactly the problem. I did care. I brought my palms down against the cold marble.
I could already feel it starting again with Declan, the magnetic way he drew me to him, the attachment welling up deep within me. I did care about him, I always had. Pretending I could do one week, a simple business transaction, keeping feelings and emotions out of it? That was impossible. No way it could happen.
I shook my head. There was no way I could let myself fall for him again. The first time around, the crash and burn had been so painful. This time around, I was pretty sure the damage would be irreparable.
Drawing up to my full height, I redid my whacked-out ponytail, smoothing it down to the best of my ability and tucking loose strands behind my ears. I needed to walk out there and tell him that this was a mistake. It didn’t matter if he was about to bail out my ranch, this was too much for me to risk. I would get the keys to my truck and leave the city. Now.
Out in the main room, Declan stood at his expansive window looking like an ad for some expensive, imported liquor. The set of his jaw, the black sweep of his hair, the broad muscle of his shoulders, everything about him conveyed power. He looked down at the city, the king in his castle, ruler of all he surveyed.
“I think…” I began, hating the hesitancy that instantly crept into my voice. “I’m going to…” Glancing down, I realized I’d need a shirt if I was going to head down and out of the building. A shirt that hadn’t been ripped in two.
He looked over, his dark gaze beckoning. “Come here, Kara.”
I exhaled with frustration. “Declan, I don’t know what’s happening here. I don’t know anything when I’m around you. It’s like I completely lose my mind.”
He continued to watch me, his eyes smoldering. To a casual observer he might have looked like a man of leisure relaxing in his den. But I saw the tightly coiled heat, the animal within waiting, demanding more. My pulse jumped.
“Come here,” he repeated, his voice silky with sin.
“Declan,” I reached internally for the script I’d prepared in the bathroom. “This has all been a mistake. A big, crazy mistake. I really can’t do this.”
“Kara.” His voice was rough and deep. I loved the way he said my name, a carnal caress.
“I can’t think when I’m around you!” I cried.
“You’re thinking too much.”
I gave a shaky laugh. “I don’t think that’s my problem.” Caught in the burning intensity of his gaze, I felt breathless.
“Come here.”
Why did my legs betray me, taking steps over to him? And why could I already feel heat building in me, a pulsing throb deep in my core?
He put his drink down on a table, watching me the whole time. I stood facing him, trembling and exposed. He stood close, so close I could almost feel him as his eyes raked over me. I felt stripped naked though I still wore my skirt and bra. I shook slightly, half with fear, half anticipation.
He didn’t touch me, but his words stroked me as he whispered in my ear, “You need to come, Kara. You’re so close. You need it so much.” Then he brushed a knuckle so gentle, so light against the lace of my bra over my nipple. My knees nearly buckled from the slightest contact.
“That’s it,” he coaxed me. “Let yourself feel this. Let yourself have what you need.” He brought his lips to my throat, kissing and licking me where I felt so sensitive. Then he stood back, watching me pant.
He appraised me as if I were his acquisition, his to do whatever he wished for one whole week. He fixed on the rise and swell of my breasts. Under his scrutiny, I could feel the ache and pull, my traitorous nipples peaking again, answering his desire with unmistakable arousal.
Low and controlled, he said, “We’re going to begin your training, Kara. You’ve been naughty. Now you’re going to take your punishment.”
His words made me gasp. And more. My brain wanted to fight, but my sex clenched, growing slick in response. I’d never felt like such a lunatic, had such a gulf between thought and action.
Not since six years ago. Declan made me that way. He captivated me like no other.
“Hands on the back of the couch. Now.” The intensity of his gaze, the raw power throbbing through his muscled body made me quiver. This made no sense. I had no idea what he would do to me.
But I couldn’t resist. I never could with him. With Declan, my answer had always been yes. No matter that it didn’t make sense, no matter the risk, everything in me said,
“Yes.”
The word slipped out from my parted lips, barely a whisper, stealing out into the space between us, binding me to him.
Chapter 2
Kara
Then
Mashing up an old banana into a chipped mixing bowl, I told myself this was totally normal. Choosing to stay home on a hot Saturday night in late June to bake banana bread—that was what most 18-year-olds were doing tonight, right? I definitely wasn’t losing my mind, blowing off my boyfriend to bake bread like a 1950s housewife. And I most definitely wasn’t thinking about walking down to Declan’s cabin—whom I happened to know was also at the ranch tonight—and using fresh-baked banana bread as a pathetic ploy to go visit. Definitely not.
Mandy had called me a couple of hours ago, pissed off as usual. Seemed I couldn’t do anything right these days.
“You’re not coming?” Her voice had reached an octave previously only recorded from dolphins. “I thought we had a deal!”
She had a lame plan to try to seduce one of Bruce’s friends who’d been sleeping with some other girl who was supposedly her friend. I was supposed to be a decoy in some way. I hadn’t listened too closely. You couldn’t get too involved with Mandy and her schemes.
“I have a headache,” I’d offered lamely. Same excuse I’d given Bruce. He’d taken it fine, told me to take a couple Advil and get some rest. He really wasn’t a bad guy. And, honestly, he wasn’t all that head-over-heels for me, either. He was heading off to U Montana in a month and in his head he was already there. I wasn’t putting out. Prom night hadn’t gone down as he’d hoped. So really I was just his hometown girl, expiration date almost passed.
We were about to go our separate ways, and though we both knew it was ending, neither of us made the effort to declare it. What was the point? He was only around for a few more weeks and those weeks were all about hanging out with our mutual friends. What was the point of upsetting things, turning over the apple cart when you didn’t have to? It wasn’t as if I was going to date anyone else anyway.
Declan had absolutely no interest. I knew that. He’d made that perfectly clear. I’d seen him in town the other day with yet another skank. He was a regular skank magnet. Whether they found him or he found them, I didn’t know, but whenever I saw him out and about he had some trashy girl draped all over him.
&n
bsp; The one I’d seen him with the other night had spider webs tattooed all down the side of her leg. Spider webs. Did Declan like that? Well, clearly he did because he had his tongue down her throat. Mandy plus a couple of other girlfriends and I had been driving around, living it up like we did most nights. Declan and the spider web girl had been outside a local dive, making out against his truck in the parking lot.
We’d all gagged and pretend barfed like it was the grossest, lamest thing we’d ever seen. Only I actually wished it was me pressed up against his truck.
I was clearly losing my mind.
I poured the bread batter into a pan, then popped it into the oven. These basic tasks I could still do. It was everything else I sucked at.
I had to forget entirely about that mortifying, unspeakably embarrassing incident in Declan’s truck. It had happened a month ago. But I still thought about it all the time.
Had he actually taken me over his knee and spanked me? Given me, an 18-almost-19-year-old a spanking? Like I was a toddler?
And here’s where I made myself blush even standing alone in the privacy of my own kitchen. My stomach flipped, my hands started to shake when I remembered how much I had liked it. I’d loved it.
The feel of his rough, warm palm coming down on my ass. How strong he was, the way his bicep had bulged under the sleeve of his t-shirt. His smell. The chafe of his jeans against my bare thighs.
The shock and sting of that smack, when his hand had first come down. Tears had sprung to my eyes. My lips had parted, no sound coming out at first. I didn’t know what was happening. I was furious, ashamed.
And then. Then the heat built up. I could hear his breathing, rough and ragged. I could hear the low sound he made when his hand came down on my skin, a deep huh in his throat. It was just us, inside the cab of his truck, and I was completely under his control. He had me right where he wanted me and I was helpless.
Unleashed: Volume 1 (Unleashed #1) Page 16