He closed the gap between them again, bracing his arms either side of hers. ‘Which is why I spent most of that time looking at you.’
‘Which is why you turned her down in the hallway?’
‘You shouldn’t eavesdrop.’
‘Why did you turn her down?’
‘You are fishing for compliments.’
‘No. I just want to be clear on something. The one you want me to help – who is she?’
He frowned a little. He flipped the mint over in his mouth. ‘I’m not like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘Fantasising about bedding you when I’m with someone else.’
Her heart skipped a beat, let alone for the fact that, for some reason, she believed the sincerity in his eyes. ‘Bedding me? That’s a very tame term for a con.’
‘Call it what you want, you know exactly what I mean. Fucking you over the pool table is one thing; getting you into my bed is another.’
‘And would you have? Fucked me over the pool table?’
He flashed her a fleeting smile. ‘I would have done whatever you wanted. Still will.’
She swallowed as subtly as she could, the prospect inciting a delicate coating of perspiration between her inner thighs. ‘So it’s not just about getting what you want.’
‘We both seem to have parallel strains running here. And I’m fine with that.’
‘Getting what you want and bedding me.’
‘And you getting what you want whilst letting me.’
‘I don’t think your new boss would appreciate that.’
‘Fuck Pummel,’ he said. ‘In this room you don’t belong to him.’
Which was exactly how it felt. Because this was about more than needing Eden’s assistance – this was just as much about flipping her middle finger up at Pummel, at Homer, at Chemist, at Dice, and at the entire prison she was confined in. Because right then, that room gave her the greatest semblance of freedom she had felt in a long time. It was her choice, her decision. And there was nothing Pummel could do about it.
Above all else, she wanted the con stood in front of her. And she was going to have him.
She stared deep into his dark eyes just to be sure. ‘So you’re not with someone else?’
‘I’m not the heart-giving type.’
‘Which is a good thing considering it’s not your heart I’m here for.’
‘Just my lock-picking skills.’
‘We both know it’s more than that. There’s no need to fish for compliments.’
He flashed her those perfectly even white teeth, their understanding confirmed, before his gaze lowered to her cleavage. Catching hold of the zip there, he slid it slowly down a few inches to gradually expose her cleavage, the inner curves of her breasts – flesh that now ached at his proximity, her nipples stiffening from the caress of the cotton as it brushed her skin.
Instead of exposing her completely, he slid his hand over the upper curve of her breast, her collarbone, to gently clasp her neck as he eased his knee between her thighs.
As he brushed his firm, warm lips over hers, she instinctively slid the sole of her foot a couple of inches up the chest of drawers, her inner-thigh sliding up along the softness of his jeans, a paradox to the strength of the tensed muscles within.
‘Tell me this isn’t a set-up,’ he whispered against her ear.
She tried to steady her breathing as his hard chest brushed against the now exposed skin of hers. ‘This isn’t a set-up.’
Eden lowered her zip further as he glided his lips up behind her ear, before slipping his right hand beneath the folded-down fabric at her cleavage to cup her left breast.
A jolt of arousal shot through her, wet heat instantly pooling between her legs, her hands clenching the chest of drawers as he rubbed his thumb over her taut nipple. By instinct, she arched her back a little, the firmness of his caress sending sparking sensations down her spine as he massaged her tender flesh, his thumb slowly and blatantly caressing her nipple in delicate circular motions before swapping to tease the other.
She instinctively tried to close her thighs to ease the tension – but there was no budging his unless she struggled, of which she had no intention. She didn’t want to lose his touch for even a split second.
‘If you’re fucking with me,’ he whispered against her ear, before taking her lobe between his teeth, ‘playtime’s over.’
As he lightly nipped her sensitive flesh, his hold on her breast tightening just a touch, it was with an edge of danger that had compelled her to be there in the first place – had enticed her as much as curiosity, as need, as sheer belligerence had. ‘You could stop that easily?’
He looked back into her eyes. ‘Who said anything about stopping?’
Her stomach vaulted, her lips parting but no words coming out.
He slid his hand to the underside of her breast. With a firmer hold, he pushed her flesh up to meet his mouth as he lowered his head.
She grabbed his arm and his hip as the heat of his mouth closed over her. She gripped him as he slowly and firmly licked across her nipple, gliding his firm tongue around full circle before widening his mouth to close in and suck.
Staring down to watch him in action, she snatched back a breath, his absorption in her even more entrancing than the expertise of his mouth.
Grazing her with his teeth on his way up to her neck, just a mild reminder that he had the potential not to be gentle, he brushed his lips against her ear again. ‘Be warned: If you’re faking, I’m going to know.’
‘This isn’t about anything but what it is,’ she whispered, meeting and holding his gaze.
‘And about telling Pummel to fuck himself by fucking me right next to his room.’
‘That’s just the bonus.’
This time, his smile was darker. He caught hold of her hands, eased her away from the chest of drawers and guided her to sit on the edge of the bed.
She clutched the duvet either side of her thighs as he stood in front of her, her stomach flipping as slipped his belt fully from his jeans. The thought of taking him in her mouth sent another gush of heat deep between her legs, confident she’d heard enough, seen enough over the years, to be a pleasant surprise to him.
But Eden didn’t undo his jeans. Instead, he put the end of the belt back through the buckle, winding it all the way through until there was only a small loop left. ‘Give me your wrists.’
Her eyes snapped to his. Breath caught in her throat. ‘You want to tie me up?’
‘Insurance,’ he whispered.
‘You really don’t trust me, do you?’
‘No. Not yet. And I don’t want to be distracted by that.’ He flipped the mint in his mouth again. ‘Your choice.’
She hesitated. But even if he had a decent grip on the belt, it would hardly constitute sufficient restraint should she choose to free herself. A couple of wriggles of her wrist and she’d be free. But if it made him feel safer…
Not taking her eyes off his steady gaze, she held her wrists up and let him loop the soft leather over her hands. She glanced back at the belt as he closed it around her wrists, only for him to fasten it into an unexpected extra buckle hole – an extra hole that had to have been designed for the very purpose of added reinforcement.
Her eyes snapped back to his as he wound the remaining strap around his fist, his knuckles brushing her wrists as he tightened his hold.
‘You’ve done that before,’ she said, not sure whether to be aroused or perturbed by the prospect.
He shrugged before guiding her down onto her back, sweeping the padlock aside. Nudging her into position lengthways along the bed, heads at the window end, he knelt between her thighs, easing them apart with his.
In the clouded moonlight, the night breeze caressing her cheek and sending wisps of hair across her lips, Jessie gazed up at Eden as he guided her hands above her head.
‘It’s had its uses,’ he whispered, holding her wrists to the bed at her crown.
‘Have you been wit
h many?’
She wasn’t sure he was going to answer as he resumed his attention on her zip, this time pulling it down fully. He peeled open her dress to expose her breasts completely to him, caressed them in turn, gliding his thumb over each nipple with more pressure this time.
‘Depends what you mean by many.’ He kissed down her neck, down her throat, her cleavage, his licks tauntingly feather-light compared to the firm grip of the hand that pushed her mound of flesh to meet his mouth again.
She bit back another breath, closed her eyes momentarily before staring up at the paint-flaked ceiling. She knew she could be anywhere at that moment and it wouldn’t matter, the realisation adding to the sense of liberation she felt as Eden all but consumed her breast again.
‘Just humans?’ she whispered.
He shook his head slightly.
‘Vampire?’ she asked.
‘Vampire, lycan.’ He slid his kisses up the opposite side of her neck. ‘And one, well, I have no idea what the fuck she was but I was too out of it to care.’ His hand freed her breast to reach for the side zip to her dress.
‘No!’ she said as she tensed, snagging his gaze. It was the one thing she couldn’t afford to lose sight of. ‘Don’t take it off.’
He frowned, but then the playful glint returned to his eyes. ‘If it’s the same rule for your knickers, I might have to ignore that one.’
She bit into her bottom lip and smiled. ‘They’re fine to come off.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ he said, resuming his kisses down her cleavage, his hand sliding from her side zip to her hip instead.
Bracing himself up with his belt-holding hand, he tucked his other hand under her dress to catch hold of the band of her underwear. He eased her knickers gently down her thighs, adjusting his position so he could pull them all the way off, before parting her legs with his again.
‘You’re gentler than I thought you would be,’ she whispered, her breath caressing his lips.
‘The night’s still young, Ringlets,’ he said with a smile, letting go of the belt to ease back on his haunches and tear off his T-shirt.
She surveyed his hard abdomen in the moonlight – every solid curve and groove down to his flat stomach, to the smattering of dark hair that escaped above his low-slung boxers and jeans. As he tugged his T-shirt over his head, Jessie lingered on the tattoos she had only caught a glimpse of in the lock-up, the flex of every finely honed muscle in his shoulder, arms and chest an enticing reminder of the masculinity she had snagged. She instinctively parted her thighs a little further – something that didn’t go unnoticed by him.
She subtly licked her lips as he took hold of the belt again. Only this time he held her wrists at her stomach as he moved back down the bed, lowered his lips to her thigh.
The moment his lips brushed her bared inner thigh, she flinched. She could feel him smiling as his kisses and nips teased her skin – kisses that moved higher and higher up her right thigh as his right hand did the same up the inside of her left.
But instead of feeling his fingers against her sex as she’d expected, she gasped in delight as she felt his mouth.
She flinched again, tensed then bucked as he licked in one slow, steady stroke up to her clit. Goosebumps prickled over her thighs and up her spine, her back instinctively arching, her sex tingling as he blew a steady stream of cool breath against her.
She tried to force herself to relax but, as he slid his tongue back up her sex, she frowned. At first she couldn’t work out what it was – something small and hard accompanying his tongue. Until she realised that instead of crushing and swallowing the mint he had been sucking on, he was now sliding its hard little edges tauntingly over and between the folds of her most sensitive area.
The pit of her abdomen clenched. She heaved a long, steady exhale in an attempt to contain herself. As if involuntarily trying to escape the delicacy of the torture, having to remain silent even more agonising, she arched her back further, moving closer and closer to the end of the bed until her neck was fully exposed to him.
But when his tongue expertly and proficiently rotated in unbearably gentle strokes over her swollen nub, her “fuck” exclamation hissed out before she could contain it.
She clenched her hands in their restraint, her abdomen trembling beneath them, and subconsciously lifted one thigh to his shoulder in desperate need to squeeze her thighs together for relief. But he tauntingly kept them parted, holding her orgasm painfully back from the brink, her sex throbbing and tingling with what could have been mistaken for numbness had she not ached so intensely.
She could think only of him being inside her, forced deep and hard, relieving her of her escalating frustration. She silently willed him to plunge his tongue, anything, into her. And Eden seemed to know it as he continued to play her, his tongue becoming firmer and hungrier as she bucked up against him, her impatience exacerbated by not being able to touch him, to reciprocate because of her bound wrists.
She realised this was how he needed to operate. He kept control in order to maintain emotional distance – to refrain from that final connection. He hadn’t bound her just out of fear. If he controlled her, then she was just a toy to him. Being a toy made her easier to discard. To him, as he’d told her, this was just sex.
She pushed aside the snag in her heart, her arousal, her lust for him in those moments making it easier for her to do so. He was just a con. The first con she had ever been tempted to have sex with, to want enough to have sex with – but still just a con. A con who she was taking one hell of a risk with by even considering giving him her consent.
He released his grip of his belt to loop his arms under her knees and clasp her behind with both hands, using his shoulders to keep her thighs parted. She arched her back even further to his butterfly licks before he tugged her hard down onto his mouth. Heat pumped fast through her veins as he kept her in position, almost sending her spiralling into orgasm as he finally pushed his tongue deep inside her. As he sucked and nibbled and licked, blatantly enjoying the taste of her, his grip on her behind tightened, the rings of his right hand melding deep into her flesh as he prevented her falling head first over the end of the bed.
Jessie bit deep into her bottom lip, forcing herself to be silent as he freed one hand to reach up and grasp her breast, his thumb frantically working her nipple as he intermittently licked and sucked around her clit in between probing deep inside her.
She almost erupted but, on the crest of her orgasm, to her agony, she felt the firm pliability of his tongue leave her.
Moving on top of her again, he eased her hands back to the crown of her head, tightened his fist in the brown leather again.
She knew what was coming. At least she hoped she did. She stared at the strength in his shoulders, in his forearms, as he braced himself above her – a body she longed to touch, to slide her hands over, to taste beneath her lips and tongue like he had tasted her. A body she longed to feel inside her.
‘Still too scared to let me go?’ she whispered breathlessly.
He gave her a fleeting smile. He crunched and finally swallowed his mint as he took something out of the back of his jeans. Placing the foil packet between his lips, he unfastened his jeans. He was already bulging against his fitted black boxers, so much so that when he dragged them down an inch he was already breaking free.
As she looked back into his eyes to see he was watching her watching him, something deep between her legs clenched.
He held the band of his shorts down further, as if teasing her with what was on offer, the movement inevitably recapturing her attention. And it took little more for his already-engorged erection to be freed completely, the wetness on his circumcised head telling her that maybe it wouldn’t take much more.
That at some point this was going to end.
Even amidst her soaring arousal, there was a glimmer of sadness at the reality check, a sense of loss that she forced aside as he pushed his shorts to his knees, kicking both them and his jeans off so he
could be completely naked.
He tore the packet open with his teeth, spitting out the excess to his left.
‘You can’t catch anything from me, nor me from you,’ she whispered.
He held her gaze as he slid the protection down over himself single-handedly. ‘Mistakes happen.’
‘But you’re sterile, right, like all cons? Not that it makes a difference – I can’t conceive outside of my species. That would take a miracle.’
He glanced back into her eyes. She saw him hesitate, but the ache between her legs was soon replaced with the rigid girth of his erection as he eased just a little inside her.
Her eyes watered instantly, her nails digging into the palms of her hands within their binds as he pushed, words and thoughts stolen from her as she could see and think of nothing else.
If she’d done it before, she couldn’t remember. If she had done it before, she was sure it had never been like this.
It didn’t help when, with the solemn expression of pure sexual intent, he looked down between them to watch himself do it, to watch himself entering her.
‘Let me touch you,’ she whispered. ‘Untie my hands.’
The look in his eyes was one of refusal as he entered her more slowly than she had imagined he would.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, her attention locked only on the sensation of feeling him gradually breaking inside her. It felt painful and exhilarating all at the same time, an excruciating bliss as her body adjusted to his fullness whilst his hand locked onto her hip, keeping her in position, his eyes fixed on watching his entry.
Sex. That was all she’d convinced herself she’d wanted. That’s all she thought him capable of giving her. But contrary to what she’d forced herself to believe, his gentleness spoke of a patient and skilful lover. One who, surprisingly, was coaxing her to relax – coaxing her to allow him full entry without warranting what would inevitably be a painful thrust.
It was a tenderness that caused an unfamiliar stirring inside her again – something she didn’t want to feel. Because the pleasure was all-consuming enough, but to see him as the potential for anything more was truly self-inflicted cruelty far beyond what she knew she could handle.
Blood Deep (Blackthorn Book 4) Page 19