by Cari Quinn
She frowned as he opened her thighs, doing the same to her other wrist and knee with another pillowcase. He grasped the knot in the little space between until she was pinned to the bed. Until her legs were spread wide for him and there was nowhere for her to go.
“Good?”
She swallowed and nodded.
He lowered his mouth to her breast and drew her nipple between his lips. He rolled it as he watched her reaction. She stiffened and hissed as he sucked it hard and let it free with a pop.
He blew lightly on the tip, watching as it tightened even more. He did the same with the other and slowly moved down to her ribs, and then the soft flesh at the back of her thigh that was exposed with her spread-eagle position. There wasn’t an inch of her that wasn’t at his mercy.
He dragged his chin along her thigh to the seam where her thighs met. To his ultimate goal.
He let one knot free for a moment and dragged off his T-shirt. He wanted nothing between them. Just skin and her moans. Because he was going to taste her until there were no words left.
The pulse of his cock behind his jeans would have to wait. If he took his jeans off now, he’d be lost to her. To her pussy right in front of him.
All he wanted to do was slip inside her warmth and fill her until she was brimming with his cum. But that was what he wanted. Not what she needed.
He lowered his mouth to the soft flesh right under the tiny strip of hair. He circled his tongue along the skin just above her clit. He teased her there until her pussy swelled and her lips were shiny with wetness for him. She squirmed, but he didn’t go where she wanted him.
Denying them both.
As much as it hurt him, he remained patient. He dragged in a deep breath of her honey scent and the richness of her pussy. Then he lowered his mouth to her center and dragged the flat of his tongue along her entire slit. She bucked off the bed with a cry and he unleashed his carnal knowledge of her body. Every secret he’d learned over the last few weeks was his roadmap. He dove deep inside the walls of her pussy and drank her down.
She quaked around him.
Her moans grew to screams and he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop until her thighs were trembling and his chin was soaked. The knots dug into each of his palms as he held her wide open and skipped past his own madness and swallowed hers. She broke and sobbed. She pushed at his bonds, trying to close her legs, but he held strong.
The word didn’t come. Her safe word. Just her screams of his name into the high ceilings of their room.
He finally pulled back for a breath. The wildness in her eyes matched his. He flicked open the tie at one wrist, then her knee, tossing the pillowcase aside.
All it took was one leg of freedom. She wrapped her leg around him and tried to pull him down on her. She was restless and her movements jerky. She was in that in-between world. The one that was fast approaching for him. Where it didn’t matter how it happened, but he had to come.
He had to be inside her.
She reared up off the bed and jerked at her remaining bonds. He slipped his finger through the knot and it gave way. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She pulled him down on her and he grunted as his straining cock slammed between her wide-open legs. Her warmth bled through his denim.
He reached between them to get the zipper down.
To get inside her.
He didn’t want ties or bonds, he didn’t want anything but her and him.
Not even a condom.
He looked down at her. “Denver.”
“Pill,” she muttered. “Safe. Inside me. Inside me.” She chanted it over and over again.
He couldn’t have denied her a single thing. Then, or ever.
He shoved down his jeans and shorts until his cock sprang free. He had to push it down to get near her. It was curved up and so tight to his belly it ached. He swirled the head along the slick center of her and he hissed at the first contact of warm, wet flesh.
As much as he wished he had the control to tease her some more, he was beyond that right now. There was nothing but her vising pussy taking him inch by inch until he was seated completely. His balls slapped against her body and he threw his head back, every muscle locked so he wouldn’t come right away.
She wound her legs around him and took him deeper. Held him tighter. The heels of her feet dug into ass and then he was gone. He drove into her, his cock pistoning again and again. Until his brain was a roaring mass of insanity and she melted around him.
He curled his arms under her and clasped her shoulders just as tightly. He pressed his mouth into her neck and roared her name as his balls tightened and his need to come rolled over him like a melody trapped inside his head. She was the only one who could make all the chaotic notes inside him into the perfect rhythm. It demanded freedom to become the song of his heart, and he let it go.
He came so hard his thighs cramped and the room went dark with it. Then there was peace. A moment of absolute clarity and connection. He could do nothing but hold her closer.
Rolling them onto their sides, he yanked off his twisted jeans and shorts, then fisted her hair to drag her mouth to his. The kiss was fire and clashing groans before it slowly eased into a meeting of lips and breath. Each inhale centered him and each exhale seemed to calm her as well.
She curled into him and he held on to her until her body went slack and her breath evened in sleep. He continued to hold her until sunlight tinged the skyline from black to a soft, buttery yellow. Until he couldn’t hold out against the emotional exhaustion crashing into his body’s pressing need for sleep.
And even then, he didn’t let her go.
Chapter Eighteen
“I suck at ties. Every time, it’s like I’m incapable of getting them right.”
“Not true. There’s some ties you’re excellent at.”
“Ahh, yeah.” She heard the smile in his voice. “Guess that’s true.”
From her position on the bed, Denver adjusted her long, sparkly earrings—a recent, unplanned acquisition along with her new dress—and took in the sight of her normally unflappable guy pulling at his tie as he got ready in front of the bathroom mirror. He was so cute when he was grumbly, not that she’d ever tell him that.
“But since you said it, allow me to inform you of your errors.”
“If you must.” She could still hear that same smile, tingeing every word.
“A, you went with a suit instead of a tux. B, you should’ve gone with a bowtie. C, you’ll look handsome no matter what you wear, so stop your bitching.”
He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Now she tells me about the tux and bowtie. How would I know about any of this crap? I’m the son of a guy who tunes pianos and fixes horns. That reminds me though.” He left the tie dangling around his neck as he stepped into the doorway between the bathroom and bedroom. “My folks want to meet you.”
Her first response was to laugh it off and maybe go dig through her duffel for some skimpy lingerie to distract him. She was already dressed for the awards show, but that wasn’t the point. The last thing she wanted to do was fight after they’d come so far, but God, did he have to drop another bomb of domesticity on her while she was still reeling from telling him about some of her past?
Not to mention agreeing to tell Donovan they were a couple. Along with Lila and the band—not that the band didn’t know after the Keith show, but still—and maybe radio interviewers and magazine editors and who knew who else. Soon, everyone would know that she and Ryan weren’t just gleefully fucking with glorious D/s overtones, but were a thing.
A real, honest-to-God thing.
Okay, so probably the D/s overtones weren’t obvious outside the bedroom. Denver tucked her hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. At least she didn’t think so.
“Hi there.” Ryan crouched in front of her and gripped her knees. “Not sure if you remember me, but I’m the guy who just asked you to meet my parents.”
“Did you ask? It seemed more li
ke a declarative statement.”
“All right, this is me asking. Denver, will you come with me to meet my parents? I told them about you and they can’t wait to meet you. My little brother Jason too. It’s important to them.” He picked up her hand and toyed with her fingers. “And it’s even more important to me.”
So many things verged on the tip of her tongue. Most of them warnings. She cared about him, so much, and betting on her long term might not be a smart bet. If her past came back to haunt her…
But Ryan’s expression was so genuinely hopeful that she couldn’t trade this moment of happiness for concerns that might never come to fruition. She was simply too selfish. Or maybe stupid.
“I’m not really the woman parents want their son to bring home.” As that spark in Ry’s eyes flickered, she touched a finger to his chin. “I mean, I’ve won every belching contest I’ve ever participated in.”
“Not true. I’ve beaten you at least once.”
“Was it that time you tickled me first? That should count as disarming the competition. Definitely not a fair comparison.”
He reached up to cup her face in his palms, bringing her forehead to his. “I thought you were going to say no.”
“It is my default response to most things.” She sighed. “I don’t try to be difficult, Ry, I swear.”
“You just are. That’s okay. Makes it more of a challenge to break you down.” His quicksilver grin blazed through her as she nudged him back and rose.
“Time to finish getting ready. We’re going to be—”
“We’re right on time. Trust me.” He stood and cupped her shoulders, instantly steadying her.
That was the biggest gift he gave her. For every jolt of awareness and electricity between them, the comfort they shared was equally arousing. He eased her. There was simply no other way to put it.
“Hello, I have been trusting you all over the place. Handcuffs and make-your-own-bondage kits with hundred-dollar pillowcases. I mean, really. And this. Formal wear, Waters.” As his lips twitched, she pulled at the waistline of her shimmery emerald-green, floor-length dress.
As gowns went, it was pretty low-key, but the fact remained that it was one. And she hadn’t worn a dress in a damn long time.
He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You forgot the heels.”
“I didn’t forget them.” She hiked up the hem of her gown and showed off her black sneakers. “Converse work in all situations, baby.”
“Can’t walk in them?” He made sympathetic noises.
“More like they’re torture devices, so why should I?”
She stopped while she was ahead. Let him think she couldn’t walk in heels. But if she had to parade around like a pretty doll, she wasn’t going to wear footwear that slowed her down. It was probably foolish, but so be it. She wasn’t going to kill years of neuroses built on a very viable fear in a few weeks, no matter how good the sex was.
And it was good. Ridiculously good.
“You look beautiful. If you wanted to go barefoot, it’d work for me.”
“Yeah, yeah, sweet talker.” She reached up to fix his tie. In under a minute flat, she’d done the knot perfectly. “There you go.”
“Miracle worker,” he decided, once he’d checked out her handiwork in the bathroom mirror. Then came the telltale sounds of him digging through his shaving kit, probably for some of that pheromone-laced cologne he splashed on to make her ovaries contract.
“I have one more miracle to accomplish,” she muttered, not even sure he’d heard her.
For a moment, she debated saying the rest. She’d opened the floodgates to him by confessing about part of her past and about Donovan, and she’d seen the questions in Ryan’s eyes about what her uncle had helped her with. Though she hadn’t told Ryan what exactly had precipitated the change, he could probably connect some of the dots.
Whether he even came close to the truth was something else.
She was a coward. As much as she claimed she was trying to keep her distance to protect Ryan—which was also true—she was doing it to protect herself. Telling him about her past and the changes she’d made after she’d fallen for the absolute worst person would be opening herself up to judgment. Just as she’d judged herself time and time again.
Why hadn’t she seen what Marco was sooner? Instead she’d been fooled by the glitz and the glam. The way he’d focused so entirely on her, as if she was the most fascinating woman in the world to him rather than just a naive college student. One who’d barely dated before him and of course was easy pickings for someone older and cultured and experienced.
He’d been the first one to hold her down in bed. To show her the other side of sex, rather than just sweet lovemaking. Deep down, she’d wondered if she was normal because she loved bondage and being controlled. Especially after his controlling nature outside the bedroom had poisoned all the rest.
Being with Ry had shown her she wasn’t broken. Not even close. Or if she was, he was too, and their cracks fit together and made something beautiful.
She owed him the truth. Every bit of it. Even the ugly parts that might make him think differently about her. If she lo—
Ryan’s humming from the bathroom cut off her thoughts. Exhaling, she clutched the phone against her hip. She had to tell him, and she would. Tonight. No more stalling. But not when he was excited about the awards show. She’d wait until after and find the words to come clean. Somehow.
“Oh yeah? What miracle are you up to now?” he asked distractedly, clearly just tuning into what she’d said.
She forced a smile and held up her phone, though he couldn’t see her. “Calling Donovan. His jet would’ve just landed an hour ago.”
Ryan leaned out of the bathroom. “He’s here?”
“Yes, he and Lila and her family flew in for the awards show. I guess they’re combining it with a vacation. Though not sure I’d think traveling with two-year-old twins is all that fun, but I guess if they’re yours, you feel differently.”
She honestly wasn’t sure on that score, but even Michael claimed that having kids with Chloe had changed him, too. She’d punch that ticket when and if her boat came around.
“Jase, my little bro, has a son. He’s three. Cutest kid ever.”
The wistfulness in Ry’s tone made her flop back on the bed, phone in hand. She hadn’t made it any closer to calling Donovan.
While every signal in her head was screaming abort, her mouth wasn’t nearly that smart. “You want kids, don’t you? The white dress, the fence, the whole nine yards.”
Whatever he was doing in the bathroom, he kept it up long enough that she picked up her phone again. Okay, maybe he didn’t want to talk about that particular subject either. Good deal. She’d just—
“Yeah,” he said finally, and when she leaned sideways, she could just make out his fingers gripping the sink. “I guess I do. I didn’t line it all up until you asked, but yeah. Seeing Mike has been an eye-opener for all of us.”
“Careful with your group statements there, bud. Some of us still have their eyes closed and we’re fine with that.” But she gripped her phone tighter, staring at the case until the crystals blurred in her vision.
She’d wanted exactly that once too. Not that she’d sketched out every step in her head, but she’d been a traditional chick at the core. The idea of a husband and kids—and yes, frequent freaky time between the sheets—had seemed…right. The path meant for her once she’d done the school thing and opened her own accounting firm.
After Marco, she’d shelved those dreams along with some others. They were dusty and buried deep. Yet they were still there.
“One thing at a time, Colorado. No one’s trying to hem you in or freak you out.”
“How about manage me?”
“Well, that’s just part of being a wise man. I want to get laid later, you know.”
She snorted. He was such a guy, but at least he was honest. Soon enough, she would have to do the same. She’d started to
come clean, but she definitely hadn’t confessed everything yet.
One mountain at a time.
“You’ve been laid plenty,” she said, her finger hovering over Donovan’s speed dial.
“And your point?”
“I don’t have any. I just have to call my uncle and get this over with, so I can get there before they announce your award. I have a good feeling about tonight. Obviously so does my uncle and Li, or they wouldn’t have made a trip out of it.”
He came out from the bathroom, fussing with the cuffs that fell just a little longer than his suit. Designed just for his long, lean form. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the weirdness of you being related to Donovan Lewis.”
She forced her gaze up to meet his. “It’s weird for me too. I didn’t like not telling you guys, but it’s not like we’re chatting every day and breaking bread. I can’t tell you the last family holiday dinner we were at together. It’s not his deal, and it’s not mine.” She blew out a breath. “And I need to make this call before I wuss out.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me here?”
She shook her head. “I just need to spit it all out.” When he looked away, she grabbed his hand. “I love that you want to be here with me.”
He exhaled and paced away from her.
She rubbed her palm down her dress. “Besides, if he wants me off the bus, better he knows now so he can make alternate arrangements before you guys need to get back to California.”
Ryan tipped his head back. “He’s not going to want you off the bus. Colorado, Lila is married to someone in Oblivion. If that’s not crossing eighty-two lines, then you getting my ass from one state to another surely is not.” He crossed the room and stroked a hand down the long sweep of her hair. He searched her face before giving her a small smile. “Meet us downstairs in the Event Center when you’re ready. You know where our table is?”
“Yes. You know I case every joint I enter.” She was only half joking. And she definitely cased all the exits. Just to be safe.
That was how she’d lived her life for far too long now, and it was getting old.