Notorious: Playing With Fire, Book 4

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Notorious: Playing With Fire, Book 4 Page 10

by Karen Erickson


  “You’re too good to be true,” he whispered. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “As long as you keep doing what you’re doing, you more than deserve me.” She tugged on his arm, spotting his car in the near distance. “Come on, let’s go back to your apartment.”

  “Want to go in separate cars?” He pointed at her car parked across the street.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Let’s ride together. You can drive me to work tomorrow.”

  They fell into step together, walking toward his car. “Once I get you alone it will be hard to let you go.”

  “Maybe you should tie me to the bed and ensure that I can’t escape.” She teased, but the way his eyes darkened meant the suggestion held appeal.

  “That can definitely be arranged.” He paused as he came around to the passenger side and unlocked the door, holding it open for her. “If you want it to happen, that is.”

  She was wet at the mere image of her sprawled across his big bed, naked and her arms and legs tied to each post. Her legs wide, her sex open as he bent between her thighs and licked her there. A shudder moved through her as she settled into his car, and he noticed.

  Eric leaned against the door, a naughty smile curving his delectable mouth. “You like that, don’t you?”

  Stacy nodded and remained silent, her hands folded primly in her lap. He slammed the door shut and rounded the car, sliding into the driver’s seat with an unrestrained eagerness. Sticking the key into the ignition, he started the car, casting her a sidelong glance as he pulled away from the curb.

  “Don’t you look all prim and proper sitting there quietly? You are such a contradiction. I think that’s what I love best about you.”

  He pulled fully onto the street and headed in the direction of his apartment. All the while she absorbed his words, the tiny revelation he made and probably didn’t even realize.

  Using the word love wasn’t a casual thing for him, she knew. Did this mean he really loved her? If only he would tell her. Maybe she should tell him first. But every time she’d done that in the past, it ended up backfiring in her face.

  Big time.

  She didn’t want to get hurt. She’d been hurt too much too many times. Eric had the potential for hurting her worse than any of the other men she’d been with put together. He held her fragile heart in the palm of his hand. It would take nothing for him to crush it into a thousand tiny little pieces until they scattered into the window, forgotten. Neglected.

  Unloved.

  Sitting straighter in her seat, she made a plan. She would let him tie her up. There was no denying it, the image aroused her beyond reason. But she was also going to use it as a sign of trust. With trust comes love.

  And she was willing to trust him with her heart.

  Forever.

  Chapter Ten

  Stacy sprawled across his bed, her wrists and ankles bound with soft velvet cuffs he’d bought just for this, just for her. Kinky bastard she knew him to be, she’d asked point-blank if he used them on someone else before.

  It felt damn good to say she was the first. The look of relief and pleasure on her pretty face told him it was worth it.

  From now on, Eric planned on putting her first in everything he did. Something he’d never really done before. He’d always been so damn selfish, even with Brandon, hell even with Austin oh, so long ago. All of his relationships, he’d thought of the other but ultimately he came first.

  Not so with Stacy. He felt as if he’d do anything to please her.

  Her naked body practically vibrated as he stared at her, her breasts jiggling as she struggled lightly against the arm cuffs. Her legs were spread wide, giving him an unobstructed view of her pretty pink pussy. She was wet, the delicate folds glistened with her juices and he had the overwhelming urge to lick her there. Feast from her until she came against his lips, on his tongue.

  With a languor he didn’t feel whatsoever he stripped, removing each article of his clothing one by one. Slowly dropping his shirt, his jeans, his underwear, even his socks on the floor in a small pile. All the while she watched with her greedy eyes as they roamed over him, her body tense, her rosy nipples so hard they looked painful.

  She was satiny smooth, soft skin and slender curves. Her flesh glowed in the gentle light from the one lamp that burned on his bedside table, and he went to the sliding glass door that led onto a small balcony and slowly pushed the curtains open.

  “What are you doing?” Alarm tinged her voice and she struggled yet again against the restraints. Her movements were futile. He had her locked up tight.

  All his for the night.

  “Don’t worry. We’re high up enough that no one can see us.” He was on the third floor of the apartment building. “And besides, even if someone sees us, sees you, doesn’t that appeal to your secret voyeuristic tendencies?”

  She stilled, watching him with a trace of fear in her wide eyes. Fear and a healthy dose of arousal.

  His girl was such a secret little freak. He found it both amusing and a complete turn on. He’d already thought this about a million times, but he couldn’t help thinking it again.

  How’d he get so damn lucky?

  “You enjoy pushing me beyond my boundaries, don’t you?” She didn’t sound pissed, which he thought was a good sign.

  Shrugging, he walked toward the bed and stood near the end of it. He reached out and drew his index finger down the center of her right foot. It flexed and stretched beneath his touch. “What’s the point of establishing boundaries if you don’t push past them and create new boundaries?”

  “I’ve never thought of it that way,” she confessed. A little gasp escaped her when he knelt in front of the foot of the bed and wrapped both his hands around her foot, squeezing gently. “God, that feels good.”

  “I didn’t realize you had a foot fetish.” He caressed the bottom of her foot, her heel. Leaned down and dropped a kiss to each red-painted toenail, he even licked them with little flicks of his tongue. “I didn’t realize I had a foot fetish either.”

  She giggled, her toes wiggling as if asking for more. “I didn’t know either. I always thought it sounded stupid. To be turned on by feet.”

  “Your feet are very sexy. Especially when you’re wearing high heels. Your legs are sexy too.”

  “Such a flatterer,” she said, her voice going wispy when he drew her big toe between his lips and sucked.

  “Mmm, I speak the truth.” His hands wandered up her leg, stroking her calf, tickling the back of her knee. She giggled and jerked in reflex, unable to escape his attention and he continued to torment her. Gaining a bit of perverse pleasure in knowing she couldn’t get away from his roaming hands, his tickling fingers.

  Her giggles evaporated into whispery sighs when he settled himself between her legs, stroking the inside of her thighs with both hands. Her skin was impossibly soft there, and sensitive. He felt her tremble beneath his questing fingertips, smelt the pungent aroma of her arousal and he breathed deep, inhaling her very essence.

  A scent he knew he would never grow tired of.

  His cock jerked in reaction when he finally allowed himself to look at the prize spread out before him. Her glistening folds beckoned, creamy droplets made a wet path down the very inside of her thighs. His lids lifted, and he found her staring at him, her teeth buried into her fleshy bottom lip, her eyes wide and beseeching.

  “Please,” she whispered, her legs jerking, her eyes sliding closed when he pressed his face against her.

  Holding himself there took every bit of restraint he had but he did it. He didn’t so much as touch her, just continued to breathe on her, her scant pubic hair ruffling with his every exhalation. “Open your eyes, Stace.”

  She looked at him, her expression pained and she arched her hips in the most subtle of gestures. Yet she didn’t say a word.

  He wondered idly if she could even speak. Her juices were flowing now, the heat of her pussy like fire. Drawing him in, drawing him closer but still
he didn’t touch her.

  “Watch me,” he commanded. “Watch me devour you.”

  “Please, Eric,” she rasped, a sigh of relief and pleasure escaping her when he nuzzled his nose against her.

  She was so wet. Hot. He kissed her swollen clit, wrapped his lips around the bit of flesh and sucked and her hips bucked against him. How she loved it when he played with her clit. She was so responsive, so fucking beautiful like this. Tied up and sprawled open just for him.

  He wondered if anyone could see them through the open window.

  Leaning up on his forearms, he traced his index finger down her slit, nestling deeper. He traced her folds, mapping each little bit of flesh before he teased her entry, slipped the very tip of his finger inside her. Her inner muscles grappled for him, drawing him in and he slid his finger further. Slow and easy until he was all the way inside.

  Stacy moaned, louder as he started to finger fuck her with earnest. Slipped two fingers inside her, then three, stretching her to the fullest as he watched in fascination, his fingers coated with her juices. Her swollen pussy lips darkened to a deep rose, her clit throbbed and he leaned in, sucking it, swirling his tongue around it. Her cream rained down on his lips, he heard the juicy sounds of her pussy as he pumped in and out of her and fuck, he wanted to be inside her so bad. Feel those tight, hot inner tissues clamp around him. Sucking him inside her body so deep he never wanted to leave.

  Crying out his name, she stiffened beneath him for a brief, breathless moment before she fell apart. Her entire body shook with the force of her orgasm as she very nearly sobbed her pleasure. He continued to fuck her with his fingers, his tongue circling slowly around her clit until finally she collapsed on the mattress. Her limbs still trembled, tears streaked down her face and he moved up to kiss and lick them away before his mouth met hers in a long, soul-touching kiss.

  “I can taste myself,” she whispered when he broke away from her.

  “Mmm, you taste so good,” he whispered back, licking at her lips. Her tongue snuck out to meet his, then withdrew and she sucked on his tongue with her lips. The move was so erotic he couldn’t help the groan that tumbled out of him. “I wish I could touch you.” They kissed again, his cock jerking in the hopes that he’d be inside her soon. “I think my orgasm was more intense because I couldn’t. I could only lie there and take it.”

  “I knew you’d like it.” He slid down her body, raining kisses across her chest, down the fragrant valley between her breasts. His mouth trailed over her breasts until he was licking her nipples, circling first one then the other with his tongue before he fully enveloped one into his mouth. Drawing her deep he sucked, felt her lift beneath him as if she wanted more and he paid equal attention to her other nipple. Blowing across them both, he watched the wet tips harden further as he slipped a hand between her legs.

  God, she was still so wet, slippery. He slid his finger inside her with ease, knew his cock would push inside without any resistance. “I want to fuck you like this. Tied up and at my mercy.”

  “But…”

  He silenced her, pressing his fingers against her lips. “Let me, Stace. Trust me.”

  She met his gaze, her expression solemn, her lips moving against his fingers as she spoke. “I do, Eric. I trust you more than anyone.”

  That admission felt like a sock to the gut. He’d wanted it, went after it and to actually have her trust was such a gift. Humbling in its intensity, he didn’t know what to say. Could only stare at her dumbfounded like some sort of idiot.

  “Do you trust me?”

  The innocent question caused him to jerk his chin, staring at her in wonder. All the trust and emotion she felt shown in her gaze, vibrant and undeniable. This was his moment. He should tell her now. Not only did he trust, her but he was in love with her. Irrevocably, undeniably in love with her.

  “Eric?”

  He said nothing like the chicken shit he was. Instead he positioned himself over her, his hands planted on either side of her head, his cock rubbing against the soft slope of her belly. Staring at her, his eyes slid closed and he breathed deep. Searching for courage, wishing like hell he wasn’t so afraid to admit his feelings. Wishing he could be everything Stacy wanted.

  Reaching between them, he gripped himself, slipping his fingers around the base of his cock and guided himself home.

  Home inside Stacy.

  Eric thrust inside her, slow and easy. Filling her to the absolute brink. She struggled against the soft velvet cuffs, felt them chafe against the sensitive skin inside her wrists, against her ankles. How she wished she could touch him. Freely run her hands through his soft hair, let her fingers explore his gorgeous body. Every dip and curve and ridge of muscle, the tickling hair on his forearms, the banked heat of his smooth skin.

  Stacy had to admit her earlier orgasm was by far the most intense she’d ever experienced. There had been no controlling it whatsoever. Her climax had simply built and built, ratcheting up the intensity with every stroke of his fingers, every flick of his talented tongue. She’d been helpless, lying there and taking his loving abuse. His mouth on her, his long fingers inside her, the way she’d come against his lips, how she’d shivered uncontrollably and literally sobbed her release. It had felt almost surreal. Deliciously surreal.

  And now having him inside her, buried so deep, as deep as he could get, well she couldn’t much participate but lift her hips a bit, which resulted in sending him even deeper. They both groaned, his voice sounded ragged, his arms and shoulders trembled from his restraint, muscles standing out in stark relief. She wished he would unleash all that pent-up power on her. Lose control and lose himself inside her. That’s all she wanted.

  Oh, that and an admission from him that he trusted her. Maybe even a confession of his love for her…

  Her entire body tingled at the thought. Of him whispering the words in her ear, his breath warm and damp, his lips brushing against her lobe as he confessed his feelings. She would whisper she loved him too and then, oh then he would take her to new heights. Something he was so very, very good at.

  Again and again he pushed inside her, using and abusing her body in the most delicious way possible. His mouth met hers, the hot, wet glide of his tongue against hers sending tantalizing ripples down her spine, across her belly, vibrating deep within her. Already her orgasm built. This one slower, deeper, steadier and God, if it was going to be even more intense she wasn’t sure how she’d survive it.

  He increased his pace and Stacy whispered his name, wishing she could ask for what she really wanted.

  Do you trust me, Eric?

  Do you love me?

  Do you always want to be with me?

  She didn’t have the courage, not yet. His lavish attention upon her body showed he wanted her, needed her. Cared for her. She believed deep down he trusted her, loved her but she needed to hear it.

  She needed that confirmation more than anything. It didn’t leave a girl hanging.

  “God, Stacy, you feel so good.” The words rushed out of him, an agonized groan following his declaration and she turned her head as he rained kisses down her neck. Stared out the uncovered sliding glass door, she looked at the apartment building across from Eric’s. Many windows were uncovered in the darkening night, soft golden light glowing from within the homes, and she caught sight of a similar sliding glass door directly across from Eric’s. Saw a man sitting on the edge of his bed facing them.

  Watching them.

  She didn’t admit it to Eric, not yet, savoring the fact the man watched them all to herself. She arched beneath Eric, her breasts brushing against his chest and he pushed her down gently with the tips of his fingers on her shoulder. Dipping his head, he sucked her nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth, alternating between each nipple until they were wet, aching.

  And all the while the man continued to watch.

  Stacy couldn’t help it. She smiled. It was positively wicked, knowing the stranger observed them during such an intimate act. A
moment that meant more to her than almost any other they’d shared so far. She should tell Eric. He would put on a show for their audience of one. She knew it.

  She frowned for the briefest moment. God, what was wrong with her? She was downright depraved. Unfortunately, Eric caught sight of the frown on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, concern lacing his voice as he slowed his thrusts.

  “We have an audience,” she whispered.

  Eric stilled above her, turning his head toward the window. “What do you mean?”

  She had a feeling he knew exactly what she meant.

  “There’s a man. Watching us. Can you see him?” She turned to look at the man once more and saw he stared right at them. As if he knew they knew he was there.

  As if he dared them to shut the curtains, wave their fists in protest, something. He wanted to be noticed.

  Arousal slipped through her, slow and warm and like honey sliding through her veins. How crazy could this get?

  Eric stared out the sliding glass door, cocked his head to the side until he finally noticed their secret—or not so secret—observer. “I can see him.” He turned to look at her once more. “Does it bother you?”

  Slowly she shook her head, her hair rustling against the soft pillowcase, tickling her cheeks. She wished she could bat it away, damn it. “No. It should bother me. I know it should. I should be horrified, but I’m…not.”

  Smiling, he bent down and kissed her. Hard. “This is what I enjoy the most. Discovering all the extra kinky bits that are hidden deep inside you and exploring them with you further.”

  “You’re not bothered by what I said?”

  “Hell, no.” He grinned. Literally grinned, looking like a little boy who just received his every Christmas wish. But there was nothing little boyish about the very virile man whose cock pulsated within her body at this very moment. “So. Want to put on more of a performance?”

  She frowned, wariness and a fair dose of excitement building within her. “What do you mean?”

 

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