Bound Temptations: Stories of Temptation and Submission

by Shiloh Walker

He came after her, although he didn’t catch her until she was in his bedroom.

  His arms came around her, his breathing ragged. “Tania, please…”

  “Damn it, Drake. Just stop. I need this. I’m taking my fantasies back, damn it. All of them.” She shoved against him, breaking free and spinning around to glare at him. “I want to take everything back…starting now.”

  “Baby…”

  “Stop it.” She shook her head. “You want to help me? Then do what I asked. Take that image—take away what I learned tonight and give me something else.”

  “Rough sex doesn’t take away the memory of a rape, doesn’t undo the fact that somebody was stalking you, spying on you,” he said hoarsely.

  “No—but being in control takes away his control. It takes away her control. It helps me take back something he took from me. Don’t you get it? I need that, and you’re the only one I can trust…” Her voice broke. She shoved him again. “I need this. I want you to fuck me while I’m fighting you. And I need to win this time—I get what I need, and that’s to be in control. I need to be in control. Don’t you get it?”

  The plea in her eyes got through. Yeah. Maybe he did. He reached out, gently caught the front of her shirt and pulled her against him. “And if I scare you, hurt you… Tania, I love you. If I scare you, it’s going to kill me. Do you understand that?”

  To his surprise, she smiled. “Yes. That’s why I know I can do this—because you won’t hurt me, you won’t scare me.”

  He groaned and lowered his head, pressed his brow to hers. “But what if I do? It will kill me, damn it.”

  “You’d never do anything to scare me—not intentionally. I know that, even if you don’t. And I don’t know if you could even un-scare me.” She cupped his face, kissed him gently. Then she caught his free hand, lifted it to the front of her shirt. “But I need this, Drake—I need this. Until I take some control away from his memory, from Gail—I’m going to be stuck with too much fear.”

  I need this…As he stared into her dark brown eyes, his heart broke a little more. She needed it, and even though his body was screaming for it, his heart was breaking. She needed it, and he’d give it to her. But he hated it. Swallowing, he leaned forward, pressed his lips to hers. “I love you,” he rasped.

  Then, easing back, still holding her gaze, he gave her shirt a harsh jerk, then a second, and a third, until it was ripped open down the center.

  “You little cocktease. You go ahead…fight me,” he said gruffly, unable to put as much command into his voice as he knew he needed. His mind was still too battered—too raw.

  “Drake…it’s okay…”

  Okay? Shit, no, it wasn’t okay, he thought. He didn’t think he’d ever be okay again. How could either of them be? But she stood there, staring at him. Waiting…and smiling. That trust in her eyes, and that need. That naked need.

  He caught her wrists, twisted them behind her back. Forcing her back, he kissed her roughly, using his tongue to force her teeth apart. She bit him. And even though he couldn’t believe he was doing this, his body was already reacting—his cock surged, throbbed. Turning the reins over, he pushed his thigh between hers, and when she resisted, he pushed her harder.

  She jerked against his hold, harder. Harder. He shifted her wrists to one hand and jerked her jeans to her knees, revealing lacy black panties. He caught them in his fist and jerked it up so that the lace bit into soft, sensitive flesh, staring down at her.

  Her lashes fluttered and she rocked against him. “You like it,” he muttered.

  “No.” She looked at him, tried to jerk away.

  “You do. I bet your pussy is already wet, all but begging for my dick.” She jerked away and he let her go. Saw the glint of triumph in her eyes. He caught her again, jerked her up against him. “You can’t get away that easy. I’m bigger. Stronger. You’ll do what I tell you.”

  She hit him.

  “You think that’s going to do it?” He hefted her onto the bed and tore her jeans off. She kicked at him. Some of them he dodged, others he didn’t. She caught him in the gut and he grunted, welcome the pain even as his breath rushed out of him. “Keep fighting, damn it. Won’t stop anything,” he said as he came down on top of her.

  She jerked her knee up and he shifted just in time, grimaced as she almost caught him square in the balls. Her eyes were wild—heat burned there. Heat. Desperation. And determination. Fuck. It almost killed him just to look at her.

  Wrapping her in a bear hug, he hauled her off the bed, forced her to the floor, turning her around so that her ass was pressed snug against him. He couldn’t do this in the bed, and he couldn’t come down on top of her—it had scared her before, just the thought of it. What if it brought back those memories? Fuck, what was he doing?

  No, not on the bed. And he couldn’t lie on her either, couldn’t stare her in the eyes—couldn’t keep kissing her either. What if she tried to call it off and he didn’t understand? She slammed back with her head and although he saw it coming, he didn’t try to move. When she caught him in the mouth, he welcomed it, welcomed the rush of pain, even as he swallowed his own blood.

  Yes.

  This was what she needed. Tania grinned in savage satisfaction as she swung back with an elbow, caught Drake in the gut. In her mind, though, it wasn’t exactly Drake—it was, but it wasn’t.

  “On your hands and knees,” he ordered, forcing her down.

  He shoved her panties to her knees and she clenched her thighs together. “I won’t make it easy for you,” she snarled, trying to kick back.

  “Good.” His voice was hoarse, thick. And when she glanced backward, she thought his hands were shaking. He pressed against her, naked—no rubber—

  When he would have pulled away, she paused. “I’m on the pill. And I’m clean. I don’t want anything between us.”

  He groaned. “Fuck, Tania. You’re killing me…” He bent over her, his head pressed to her back.

  His voice sounded tortured—tormented. Part of her knew she was pushing this too hard, but she needed—needed this—her to control something, damn it. Her way, all her way.

  “I won’t make it easy for you,” she snarled again, and as she said it, she shoved back, forcing the first two inches of his cock inside her pussy.

  He stiffened. Then straightened. “I don’t care if you make it easy or not, bitch.” He swatted her ass.

  She shrieked and jerked.

  He caught her hips and pulled her back. “You can’t get away.”

  “You can’t stop me,” she panted, shoving upright onto her knees, struggling against his hands. When he wrapped his arms around her tightly, she slammed her head back against his shoulder, glaring at him. “Bastard.”

  He freed one arm and spanked her clit. He didn’t give her that cocky, hot smile she’d come to expect, just watched her solemnly. “You want it. You’re hot and you’re tight.”

  “Pig.”

  He craned her head around to kiss her and she bit his lip.

  He let her go and she fell forward, braced her weight on her hands and knees, rocking back and forth on his cock, squeezing him tight, groaning despite herself. Just when she might have gotten herself off, though, he caught her hands, forcing her upper body down lower as he pinned her wrists at the small of her back.

  She cried out, startled. Jerking against his hold, she struggled harder. Couldn’t get away. Tension swirled, built. Then, just before the tension might have swelled to true terror, she felt his free hand, felt his thumb pressing against her anus. “I still haven’t fucked your hot little hole. I watched you take a dildo in there but not my dick. You’re taking my dick in here now, sweetheart.”

  Again, he shifted her wrists to one hand, his grip just loose enough for her to wrench away. She did, but instead of pushing up to her hands and knees, she reached between her legs, her fingers seeking out the hard bud of her clit.

  He growled. “You like that idea, bitch, don’t you?”

  “No. It’s d
isgusting.” Yes—

  “Yeah, that’s why you’re fucking yourself with your fingers,” he said.

  She felt him smearing lubricant over her anus, the thick, slippery feel of it. “I’m going to put my dick all the way inside you in about two seconds and you’ll want it, beg for it.”

  “No, I won’t.” She shuddered and arched her back as he pressed against her, whimpered as she felt him push inside. There was pain—she gasped and cried out.

  But there was also pleasure.

  She felt him stop, felt him pause. His body, that lean, powerful body stopped, hesitated.

  “Tawny…”

  She closed her eyes. Jerked against his hands. “Don’t do this,” she whispered. And as she said it, she pushed down, sank back against him.

  “Don’t do it?” he echoed. “You want me to stop?”

  Clenching her legs together, she said, “Yes, damn it. Stop it, just stop it—”

  He eased into her. Slowly. “Harder,” she rasped.

  “I don’t want to hurt you…”

  Tania jerked against his hands. “Harder!”

  He shoved himself inside.

  She screamed and arched up, riding the pain, the pleasure…and the control. Gasping, she sobbed out, “I don’t want this from you, damn it…”

  He drove into her. “Too fucking bad,” he muttered.

  “I’ll fight you.” And she did, clenching her legs tighter, jerking against his hands. Each attempt at resistance made her burn hotter, and each one was a victory for her.

  “Fight me. It won’t matter. You want it,” he growled. “Beg me for it, damn you.”

  “Hell, no.” Even though she did it, did want it…

  She looked at him over her shoulder—saw his bleak eyes. Grabbing his wrist, she stretched out, staring at him until he gave her what she needed, stretching his longer body out over hers, crushing her into the floor. She took his weight—and felt no fear. His body shuddered.

  The pleasure was brutal—Drake felt massive inside the sensitive, delicate tissues of her ass. He reached around, pushed two fingers into her pussy and used his other hand to tangle in her hair, angling her head back so he could stare into her eyes.

  His voice broken and ragged, he demanded, “Is that what you need, damn it? Is it?”

  “Yes.” She shuddered and groaned. “Hell, yes. Drake, please.”

  “That’s it. You wanted me to make you beg. Beg me, damn it,” he muttered. He pressed his cheek to hers and caught her hands. Pinned them down. “This?”

  “Yes!” She strained against his hold, broke free. He caught her wrists again. She escaped. Over and over, they repeated those actions. His strokes slowed until he barely moved within her, his cock throbbing, her clenching around him and milking him as they struggled.

  “Is that what you need?” he snarled again, slamming her wrists down…and his voice all but broke.

  Abruptly, she heard the torment in his voice…and she realized, fully …she was lying there, taking his weight, fighting him and being restrained, and she felt no fear. And she was hurting him—fuck, she wasn’t just hurting him. She was breaking him—like Kent had done to her.

  Oh, hell.

  Voice shaking, she whispered, “Superman.”

  He stiffened like she had electrocuted him. “Shit, Tawny…”

  He went to withdraw, taking so much care. Her heart wrenched and she swallowed, aching. Once she was free, she turned around, but as he went to pull away, she reached out, catching his arms.

  “Tawny…”

  “Take me to bed, Drake,” she whispered. “Take me to bed and make love to me.”

  “But…” He jerked away, shaking his head, eyes half wild, his long, rangy body shaking. There was panic on his face, something half wild. “Fuck, I hurt you—scared you. Tawny, shit, I’m sorry. Fuck, what the fuck am I doing—scaring you like that?”

  “No.” She went to her knees, pressed her mouth to his. “That’s exactly what you didn’t do. You didn’t scare me. You gave me what I needed. I’m sorry…and I want you to make love to me, Drake. Just take me to bed and make love to me, Superman. I need you.”

  Rising, she caught his hands, tugged until he stood up. That look remained on his face, tearing at her heart, naked and vulnerable…so tortured. Cupping his cheeks in her hands, she pressed her mouth to his. “I need you,” she whispered, leading him to the bed.

  “Tawny.” His eyes closed.

  Brushing her lips against his, she arched against him, felt him against her belly. She lay down, still holding his hands. A muscle clenched in his jaw. The bruised look in his eyes tore at her and for a minute, she wasn’t sure. Had she fucked it up too much already?

  But then he pushed up on his knees, stroking a hand down her thigh. A mask fell over his face, shielding whatever he felt. Scooting closer, she tucked her hips close to his bent knees and reached for the lube on the nightstand. She drizzled some of it over the head of his cock, watched as he hissed out a breath.

  “I need you,” she whispered. “I need you to make love to me now. Just make love to me. I’m begging again…for that, for you to make love to me.”

  Arching her hips up, canting them higher, she gripped his thighs with hers. “Make love to me, Drake.”

  His eyes closed.

  Then he reached down, spreading the cheeks of her ass.

  She gasped as he pressed inside, easing the tight ring of muscle resisting him. “Shhhh….” he whispered, reaching for one of her hands, guiding it between her thighs. She stroked her clit, staring up at him.

  With slow, steady strokes, he worked his cock into her ass, his eyes intent on her face, watching for any sign of pain, any sign of discomfort.

  After he’d seated his length inside her, he started to pump, moving inside with deep, strong surges. His gaze caught hers. She reached up with her free hand, cupped his cheek, staring into his eyes.

  “Don’t make me do that you again,” he muttered. “Not like that.”

  “No. Not like that,” she whispered. That ghost was exorcised.

  His body shuddered, head bowed. When he looked back at her, his eyes gleamed, over-bright. He bent low over her, shafting her harder, deeper.

  “I love you, damn it. It’s killing me…” His mouth savaged hers, the kiss drugging her. She gasped for breath when he lifted his head.

  Curling a hand around his neck, she clutched him close. “I know you love me…and I think it’s saving me. Please don’t stop.”

  “I can’t. Not even if I tried.” He twisted his hips and she cried out, scraped her nails over her swollen clit. “Mine,” he muttered. “No matter what happens, you’re mine for now…”

  She wanted to tell him she was his for always…but the climax swept up, swept her under.

  Breathless, she clung to him, the muscles in her anal sheath gripping him. He growled against her neck, rode her harder, faster. She felt his cock jerk, felt him throb, then the hot, vicious spurts as he came. Holding him close, she rode it out. There was time to tell him, after all.

  Later.

  Once she could breathe.

  Drained, empty, Drake rolled out of bed when Tania stood and tugged on his hand.

  She had a smile on her face—that surprised him.

  After what he’d told her not long ago, he hadn’t expected to see a smile.

  If only it would last, but…

  She led him to the shower, turning the spray up hotter than he liked, but he didn’t care. As she soaped her hands up and ran them over his body, then hers, he didn’t care about anything.

  Except her. Only her.

  Fuck. Earlier, she’d cried. For more than an hour, she’d cried, like she’d been reliving that hell all over again.

  Her hands slicked shampoo through his hair and he swore, nudged out of his daze. “I’ve got it,” he muttered.

  “I want to do it.” She nudged him back against the wall and finished the job before washing her own hair. He stared at her, his mouth dry, h
eart pounding.

  They needed to talk. He needed to figure out what to do, because he knew he couldn’t handle this roller-coaster ride, it was killing him. He—

  Soap-slick hands closed around his cock.

  “Thank you,” Tania whispered just before she pressed her mouth to his.

  He opened his eyes, stared at her as she kissed him and started to jack him off.

  “Wuh…what?”

  “You heard me.” She smiled and moved back. “I know you didn’t want to do it that way.”

  Guilt ate a ragged hole in his gut. “If I didn’t want to fuck you that way, I wouldn’t have been able to get it up.”

  As she neared the head of his shaft, she twisted her wrist and swiped her thumb over the head. “You can have an unwilling mind and a perfectly willing body,” she said. “And that hurt you. I didn’t think about that. I’m sorry, but I’m not. I know that maybe doesn’t make sense. But I needed it—needed something that was under my control, for once. So thank you.”

  Closing his eyes, he stood there as she used her hands to stroke him to completion. Just before he came, she went to her knees and closed her mouth over him, sucking him deep.

  “Shit, Tawny…” he groaned, reaching down and tangling his hands in her hair, rocking forward.

  He should have been drained, empty…but she pulled another climax from him, and after she finished him, she stood and slid her arms around him waist, resting her head against his chest.

  “Thank you,” she said again.

  Trying to put it behind him, he forced himself to smile. “I guess after that, I should be thanking you.”

  In his gut, though, he knew he wouldn’t be able to put this behind him. It was a monstrous thing inside him already, tearing at him with ugly, jagged claws, and it was threatening to tear him apart.

  Chapter Nine

  He woke to the scents of coffee and bacon. On any other morning, it might have made him smile. But not that day.

  He spent much of the night sleepless and he’d come to a harsh, ugly fact.

  He loved Tania Sinclair so much he was stupid with it, and last night, he’d done something he hated himself for.