His hands moved to her ass, squeezing and caressing. His strong fingers pushed between the two globes, teasing all the way down to her slick heat, then back up again, wetting her skin. She couldn’t suppress a moan, and his hands stilled. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing him on, never knowing if her reactions would garner more of his touch, or if he’d pull away, claiming complete control. She didn’t want to know. She just wanted to experience him. When his hands slid south again, her breath rushed from her lungs.
“Did you forget how much I love your ass?” he asked in a husky voice.
How could she forget? She loved when he touched her everywhere, with his hands, his mouth, his cock. “I counted on it.”
“Damn, baby.” He pressed his rigid cock against her ass. “I ache to be inside you.”
Oh God, yes.
He stepped away again, bringing another rush of cold air over her damp skin and sending shivers down her spine. She listened to the slide of fabric against skin, watching Carson’s reflection in the glass as he removed his tie and shirt. He laid his tie over his shoulder and turned her toward him, holding his shirt in one hand, all his glorious muscles on display. Heat and desire spread through her, filling her lungs, her veins, the far reaches of every limb.
He tipped her chin up and brushed his lips over hers. “You are everything to me, Tabs. I need you to know that before we go any further.”
She swallowed hard at the thunderous emotions surging through her. “I know.”
He lifted her wrists and kissed her palms, his smoldering gaze darkening. “Touch me.”
She lifted shaky hands to his face as he leaned down and claimed her mouth. The first touch of his lips was electric. Her fingers moved over his corded neck muscles, tight from restraint. He smelled of lust and greed and something much more intense. She caressed his cheeks and pushed her fingers through his short hair. He deepened the kiss, moaning his appreciation as she explored his shoulders and his hard, bulbous biceps. She arched forward, pressing her body against as much of him as she could and earning a heady groan from Carson. His tongue swept over hers, strong and sensual. His hand traveled over her back, into her hair. She waited for the sting of his grip, but as he used to do when they were making love, he held her expectations at bay. His hands moved down her torso again. She went up on her toes, seeking more, and he tore his mouth away, leaving her panting.
He took her hands in his with the look of deep concentration and dark seduction she hadn’t seen in so many years it made her head spin, and somehow it also felt as familiar as if she’d looked in a mirror. She watched him meticulously align the sleeves of his shirt along the front panels, folding it until the width met some calculation in his brilliant mind, before using his shirt to bind her wrists. She remembered what he’d said to her the first time he’d bound them. She’d been so nervous, she could barely breathe, even when he’d said, You’re in control, Tabs. You’re always in control. She’d thought he’d meant because he would stop whenever she wanted him to. But she’d learned that there was an immense sense of control and freedom that came from surrendering completely to the person she trusted most. It seemed strange to her now, that the very thing that had empowered her had also broken her down.
She pushed those memories away as Carson moved swiftly, concentrating on the fold of the material, making sure it was flat against her skin. He was always careful with her, and she loved that about him. The warmth of the fire sailed over her already heated skin, heightening her arousal. She closed her eyes as he finished his task, anticipation stacking up inside her, seeping into every crevice, consuming her thoughts. She felt Carson adeptly unhooking the straps on her garter, sliding off her panties, and helping her step out of them. She opened her eyes, her knees weakening at the lust pooling in his eyes as his hands climbed up her legs. He slowed to run his thumbs along her inner thighs, stopping short of her sex. She gritted her teeth against a whimper trying to escape, and his eyes locked on hers.
“Close your eyes, Tabby.”
She did, and Carson’s intoxicating scent mixed with another, barely noticeable aroma. The first touch of the buttery-soft material to her eyes made her heart skip. Cashmere. She felt him fixing the tie into one of his special knots on the side of her head. Never behind your head when you’re lying down, he’d once explained. I want you to be comfortable.
Her pulse sprinted, her vision now blocked by his tie. Then she was in his arms, her body pressed against his chest, breathing him in as he carried her and laid her on the sofa. When he lifted her bound hands above her head, she felt like her lungs opened completely for the first time in years. He spread her legs, the cushions dipping as he settled between them. On his knees? She assumed so as she felt the back of the couch move, like he was using it for balance. His mouth closed over her breast all at once, wet and hot, sharp teeth grazing over the sensitive peak. She gasped, and he pushed her breasts together, moving from one to the other, giving each a slow, hard suck. When he released them, he pinched one nipple, his mouth claiming the other, sucking so fervently she felt it between her legs. She arched beneath him, squirming with the titillating sensations searing beneath her skin. Then his mouth was on hers, rough and demanding. Instinct brought her bound hands up, and he flattened his palms over the underside of her arms, pushing them down again, pressing them into the cushions. His mouth left hers, and her eyes darted futilely beneath her blindfold as she felt him rising, hovering over her, his body heat radiating like the blazing sun. His tongue slicked along the underside of her arm, teasing the sensitive skin she might never in her entire lifetime have noticed if not for their sexual explorations. Heat slithered like snakes through her core, pooling between her legs.
She opened her mouth to beg for more, and he brushed his chest over her mouth. She opened wide, licking and panting, needing so much more. His chest hair tickled, his nipple moved over her cheek, along her chin, as she tried anxiously to capture it. He rose, bringing a wave of cooler air over her skin, his hands still trapping her arms above her head. She felt the weight of his stare, heard the even cadence of his breathing, and when he lowered himself over her again and slicked his tongue along her other arm, her hips lifted off the cushions.
“Taste me, Tabby.” Ragged desire laced his demand as his nipple brushed over her lips.
She didn’t taste. She devoured, sucking his nipple, biting down the way he liked. His hips bucked, grinding deliciously against her center. He kept her arms trapped above her head, groaning as he crushed his chest to her mouth. When he rose, she whimpered, missing the weight of him, the taste of his salty skin. His mouth captured hers, one hand still holding her arm, kissing her so deeply her thoughts fragmented. Then he cradled her face, like he couldn’t get enough of her, the way he used to. Sometimes they’d barely made it into his apartment before he’d grabbed her and kissed her that way. Not once in nearly two years as lovers had he stopped doing that, and now, in the height of passion, she realized how desperately she’d missed it.
“Three days,” he said between kisses. “Three days left to make you mine.”
Yes. The word lodged in her throat as he seared a path of openmouthed kisses directly to her sex. He pushed her legs open wider, and she felt his breath moving over her center. She felt exposed and whole and couldn’t imagine how both were possible, but she couldn’t pick that apart. Not when her heart was open and accepting for the first time in forever. She lifted her hips, and Carson held them down, forcing her to remain in the heady space of neediness, enduring his masterful seduction at the pace he desired. She lay panting, every nerve a live wire, aware of the plush cushions beneath her, the ache in her shoulder joints, the waves of heat the fire threw over her skin, and most of all, the love she felt emanating from Carson.
In the next breath, his tongue teased along the length of her sex in one tantalizingly languid move. She blinked against the blindfold and closed her eyes as his talented tongue circled her clit, around and around, then pressed hard, alighting thr
obs of desire. This became a mind-numbing pattern of licking, teasing, and pressing, until she was shaking and moaning, struggling against his hands stretched between her hips and thighs, keeping her open and holding her still. Darts of ice and heat traveled up her legs, and a string of pleas tore from her lungs. This was what she craved. This was what she needed. Electrified nerves, a lapse of her synapses, Carson’s strong hands taking control, his mouth catapulting her up, up, up, until she could barely breathe.
She fisted her hands, straining against her bindings. An orgasm hung just out of reach. Then his mouth left her, and she cried out, “Carson, please—”
One hand released her, the other remaining in place, reminding her he was still in control. She heard ice cubes clinking against glass and bit her lower lip, her eyes following the sound even though she couldn’t see. The cushions dipped, then rose, and dipped again, farther away. Then the shock of ice on her sex caused her body to clench, and she whimpered with the burn searing into her. Just when she didn’t think she could take it anymore, he drew back, and her breath rushed from her lungs. He must have had the ice in his mouth, because his hands held her leg and hip once again.
He rubbed the ice along the crease between her thigh and her sex, around her swollen lips, then down the center of her slick heat. Every touch was pure pain and shock, despite the anticipation, but it quickly turned to scintillating pleasures. Cold liquid dripped over her hot skin as the ice melted, and he pushed his fingers deep inside her, making her hotter, wetter, and brought the ice to her clit. She bowed off the cushions, wanting his mouth to engulf her.
She tried to beg for more, but every muscle, every nerve, was focused between her legs. He was relentless, swirling the ice as his fingers invaded her, stroking over the spot that made her dizzy. He dragged the ice cube up the center of her body and rubbed it over her mouth. The scent of him, and her arousal, surrounded her. His cock ground between her legs, hot and thick, warming the frigidness away. He circled her nipple with the frozen cube, causing her breasts to flame and sting and pucker so tight they prickled.
“Carson,” she pleaded.
He moved lower again, dragging the ice down her body and leaving it in her navel like a secret treasure. Her hips undulated, her body vibrating from the overwhelming sensations. When he slicked his tongue along her sex, a long, loud moan escaped. Then her nipple was between his finger and thumb, rolling deliciously, as he withdrew from her sex and teased over her ass. In the next breath he was feasting on her sex, and his finger pushed into her bottom at the same moment he squeezed her nipple. Her eyes slammed shut against a thousand crackling explosions beneath her skin, shooting all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. A string of indiscernible noises sailed from her lungs.
Just when she started to catch her breath, he did it again, and she shot right back up to the peak again, her body electrified. She should have expected the next assault, and the next, but each time he penetrated deeper and it was more thrilling than the last. He groaned as she lingered in orgasmic bliss and fell limply to the cushions. She was vaguely aware of him moving, but her mind was too scattered to focus on anything other than collecting every sensation as if she were a hoarder.
She felt his lips on her cheek, tender and loving. The gentle scratch of his whiskers. He knelt beside her, his hand brushing over her hair, his lips touching her forehead. He traced the ridge of her brow, her cheek, and jaw bones. He removed the tie from her eyes, and she blinked several times, trying to adjust to the dimly lit room and make her mind function again. The love and need in his eyes collided, bringing tears to hers. Oh, this man, her glorious lover and friend. They were so connected, the anchor to each other’s storms.
“There you are,” he whispered. “Still with me, baby?”
She managed a nod, or at least she thought she did. He lowered her arms slowly, unbinding her hands, and then she was in his arms again, cradled in his lap on the floor beside the couch. He was so big, his thick knees bent, holding her against his muscular body, and yet even with all those hard edges, he was soft and comforting.
He rubbed her shoulders and wrists, whispering between tender kisses. “You are the very air I breathe, Tawny Bishop. The grounding force that allows my world to make sense.”
She felt like she’d flown into a dream, and she didn’t want to wake up. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he rose to his feet. He blew out the candles, turned off the fireplace and stereo, and carried her upstairs. He stripped back the blanket of his luxurious bed and laid her in the middle, carefully removing her garter and stockings. She was too blissed out to move.
“I’ve missed you, Carson,” she whispered.
His lips curved up, as if he’d seen it in her eyes before she’d said a word.
He stripped out of his briefs, unleashing his thick, eager cock, awakening every ounce of her again. She reached for him as he settled between her legs. She wanted to do so many things with him, to him, but as he came down over her, none of her urges were stronger than the need to love, and be loved by, him.
Leaning on his forearms, he cradled her head between his hands, looking at her like she was his only thought. She was aware of everything—the scent of her arousal on his skin, his chest hair tickling her breasts, his thighs pressing down on hers, the broad head of his cock nestled at her entrance, and the inescapable love in his warm brown eyes.
“What do you see, Tabby?” he asked.
“You, Carson. The real you. The one I never should have run from.”
Chapter Seven
CARSON AWOKE BEFORE dawn to the feel of Tawny’s fingers following the line of his spine down his back. A smile tugged at his lips, but he willed himself to remain absolutely still, curious to see what she did next. As still as he could, considering her thigh rested on his hamstring and her naked body was pressed against his side. He couldn’t control his cock stiffening against the mattress. She kissed his side, as light as a feather, her fingers tracing the curve of his ass before they began a slow glide north again. Her lips touched him again and again, and her palm flattened over his ass, squeezing gently. She caressed his hamstring, her fingers diving deeper between his legs. This time when they moved upward, she dragged them over his balls, and they tightened beneath her touch. He ground his teeth together to keep from moving, but he felt her breathing quicken and knew she was aware of his arousal. She climbed over him and lay on his back, her cheek resting between his shoulder blades. Her hands ran along his biceps. He spread his fingers, welcoming hers as they laced together, and she exhaled a long dreamy sigh.
“Can I lay here forever?” she asked.
He heard the smile in her voice and brought their joined hands to his mouth, kissing each of her knuckles. “Baby,” was all he could manage. Forever sounded damn good to him.
“I know I’ve said this too many times, but I missed you so much, Carson, I ache with it. I just want to lie here and soak you in.”
He closed his eyes, reveling in her in the same way. They’d made love twice last night, and Tawny had fallen asleep in his arms with the most beautiful, peaceful smile on her lips. The tremor of nervousness he’d sensed in her since she’d arrived was gone. Her heart beat steady and sure against his back as she pressed a kiss there, and then another and another. God, how long had he waited for this, dreamed of it. Loving Tawny Bishop had felt like the unachievable. And here she was, in his bed, soaking him in. If he died right then, he would die a happy man.
“Tell me something about you I don’t know,” she said. “We’ve been talking about me since I arrived, and I want to know more about you. I want to know if you’re happy. Do you enjoy your business as much as you hoped you would?”
“I do, Tabs. Cyber security, closing loopholes, solving puzzles, it’s everything I’d wanted. When Brett joined me, it made the company even better. He’s a smart-ass, but he’s a good man, and the heavy hand in the partnership. When he came on board, we began handling private security for pop stars and celebrities. I
t’s more than I could have hoped for. We’ve got plenty of connections to help you start your business.”
“Stop acting like my starting a business is a given. There’s a lot to consider.” She kissed the back of his neck. “How are you still single, Carson? You must have your pick of women, and yet you let me walk into your life and I didn’t have to wait in line.”
He opened their joined hands and kissed her palm. “Because the one I wanted wasn’t available.” He closed their hands again. “It’s always been you, Tabs.”
“But do you date? I mean, you’re such a passionate man. There must be women in your life.”
“Nothing has changed since college in that regard. I don’t date. I have a few women I see from time to time to blow off steam, but you don’t really want to talk about them, do you?”
“No,” she whispered, and scooted higher, her soft curves sliding against him. “For smart people, we were pretty dumb to let so much get in our way. I was dumb. It’s really my fault.”
“It was both of us. We were young and stupid,” he said. “But smart enough to have found each other in the first place.”
Bad Boys After Dark: Carson (Bad Billionaires After Dark Book 3) Page 9