hold of mine and positions my wrists by the bedhead. “Hold tight and don’t let go.”
With his fragrant body circling my head, I grasp the rods of swirling metal and hold tight, utterly at
his mercy but, rather than removing my bra he breathes onto the material and licks around the lacy
edges, dipping under the cups, searching for hardening flesh. With a gentle pull he peels back the
cups, leaving my breasts pushed up, protruding rigidly like pointed spikes. He pumps each breast in
turn and sucks greedily, making my breathing catch and falter. It’s no wonder: there’s something
incredibly primal about a man suckling the breast, especially when that man’s Ayden Stone.
Once nourished, he slips his hand around my back, unclips my bra and drops it carelessly on the
floor. With palms outstretched he follows the lines of my body, starting at my neck and chin. I tip
back my head, feeling his fingers around my throat, paving the way for his kisses, not stopping until
every spot has been claimed. My collarbone tingles with the wetness from his tongue and I feel the
body heat building as he marks my body as his. Feeling an unnatural pause, I glance down at him.
With my dry lips, I can barely speak.
He beats me to it. “I love this body.” Those words and that look of carnal longing in his eyes scare
me a little but, only for a split second until his scorching, animal need to take me has me squirming
with desire. My thoughts are scattered, I’m panting, my hands are sweating around the bedhead and
I’m lifting my crutch into him, wet and needy.
“Beth … Beth …” His face is close to my ear. “Hush now. Breathe baby, slowly…”
I begin to calm, come down from my pheromone induced high, realising where I am and what’s
happening. This is what he said would happen tonight; we’d work on my self-control. Is that what he’s
doing?
“There. I’m going to use this on you.” He holds up the G-spot massager. “This will be intense and I
want you to try to absorb the feeling, to make it last.” He brushes his lips against mine. “Let’s get
these off.” He eases my panties down my legs, puts them to his nose and gives me a wry smile.
Dear God!
“Now you can lower your hands if you want but don’t touch. Hold onto the pillow. If you try to
touch me, I’ll handcuff you.”
I’m tempted to touch him just to see if he’s bluffing, but something tells me he’s not. “I
understand.”
“Now close your eyes and relax. I’ve got this.”
Those three words, I’ve got this, cause the need in me to swill around in my stomach and settle
south of my navel. I hear a soft humming sound and flinch slightly when the vibrator rests on my
nipples and circles them like a Catherine wheel, sending hot, little sparks round and round the
sensitive flesh. He smothers the flames with kisses and my mouth twitches with a grateful smile.
Southward he moves across my navel and through fine strands of pubic hair, coming to rest
between my soft folds, skating over my clitoris. The vibrations touch that spot. I gasp.
“Ah!” My soft cry echoes around the room. I focus on my breathing and try to absorb the heat: I
don’t want to crash and burn too quickly. I cry out, “Ay-den…,” a single heartbeat before he sinks his
tongue into my mouth and begins his relentless orgasm inducing assault upon my senses. How can I
possibly hold off on an orgasm when everything about him is so potent? The way he looks and smells
and feels and tastes. It’s sensory overload or I think it is, until he slides the vibrator inside me. The
demands he has made upon my body up until now have been minimal compared to this.
My hands are slipping from the pillow. I want to feel his hard body against my hot palms. I call out
his name. “Ay-den.” I feel him pushing the curved vibrator against the front wall of my vagina,
coaxing me to soak up the penetrating reverberations against the most sensitive part of my body. I roll
my hips into it, trying to dissipate the humming ache in me to come. It feels so intense. I want to weep
and scream. With tears in my eyes, I throw back my head and writhe into the sensation, sucking it up,
letting it ripple through me. Instinctively, I lower my hands and reach out to him, unable to ignore my
clawing need to touch him.
I lose all self-control.
Before I can fathom what is happening, Ayden takes hold of my arms in his overpowering grasp and
returns my hands to the bedhead. Even in my ecstatic state I hear one, then two clicks and realise what
he’s done. He has handcuffed me to the bedhead. I tug against my restraints, unsure. I feel vulnerable,
I can’t free myself. I tug harder.
Ignoring my fear, he redeploys the vibrator, resting it against my G-spot. So intense is my sense of
euphoria that I imagine myself lifting from the bed, overcome by an unworldly sensation: a scorching,
burning, exalting fire.
“Let it go Beth. Come. It’s time.”
I surrender myself to my orgasm, succumbing to the feeling of being totally possessed by it.
Nothing I have ever experienced before could have prepared me for this. As the vibrations continue, so
does the orgasm; it has me convulsing and stretching as it ripples through my entire body. The
pleasure he is giving me is immeasurable. It’s the consummation of my sexual awakening. Tears are
trickling down my cheeks and I’m sobbing his name.
But … he is not done with me. In my state of ecstatic bliss, I have scarcely noticed he has shifted
position and that his mouth is on me. He has removed the vibrator and is licking my throbbing clitoris
while his fingers are filling the vacant space inside me. My arousal has not dissipated and his
secondary onslaught is unexpected. I spread my legs wide to receive it. He knows what he’s doing.
He’s making me come again.
Without warning, one hard lick grazes my clitoris and shocks me to the core, so much that I must
pant to get through another mind-blowing orgasm. Like a boat lost at sea, it weaves its way through
my wasted body and comes crashing against my groin before shattering into a thousand pieces.
For a moment there is nothing; no sound, no sensation. Only contentment. My senses resume and
I’m conscious of Ayden’s weight over me. I hear the sound of a condom packet being torn. My heart is
racing, partly because of my orgasm and partly out of anticipation. His hands are either side of my
head, his erection stiff and unyielding against my crutch. I am totally at his mercy.
“I’m going to take you, Beth,” he states hoarsely. “Deep and hard. Bend your knees.”
I do as he asks and lock onto his beautiful features; I barely recognise him in his lust crazed state.
The midnight sky fills his eyes, reminding me he is sexually charged and lightening may strike me
down at a moment’s notice.
“I’ve been saving this for you.”
Unable to contain quivering anticipation, I lock onto his eyes magnetically and push upwards into
him. He’s waited long enough. “Fuck me.”
In one powerful thrust he slams into me, calling out my name. “Beth ...” It’s a garbled, guttural cry,
almost as loud as my own. With hard lunges from crown to base, he stakes his claim and I clench and
squeeze him, sucking him deeper inside me.
He groans with primal need. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this.”
I feel his hips grinding
against mine and his breath gushing out like volcanic steam over me. I stop
pulling on my shackles and lose myself in the moment, letting my body go lax and bend like a palm
tree in the wind. We become a single, inseparable entity; a single flickering star in the night sky.
Held fast, I can do no more than surrender myself to him willingly, unconditionally. I realise, there
is joy in this surrender and in his possessiveness. He is fucking me within an inch of my life, filling
me, stretching me, taking what is his. I whisper a single thought. “I belong to you …”
He pushes me further, over an abyss, driven on by a raw and unstoppable urge to make a physical
declaration of his love. I want to do the same and coax him to roll into me, to stroke that newly
discovered place inside me. He reads my silent signals and responds to my clawing need by swivelling
his hips and lifting me onto him. He weaves his spell and, like magic, I ignite beneath him, around
him with a pulsating ache that makes me throw back my head and cry out like a winged creature,
flying and soaring before coming down to earth with a breathless plea. “Enough.”
On my command, he rushes to climax. Wraps me tightly and fucks me so hard and so deep, I think I
might die in his arms. With each mounting plunge he calls out my name. “B… eth …,” until he stills
and I feel the crushing weight of his wasted body on top of mine.
He stirs, lifts off me and rolls to my side, pulling off the condom. “Let me take the handcuffs off.”
He leans over and presses a release button and throws them onto the floor by the bed.
“There’s a safety catch?” I ask curiously.
“Yes.” There’s a cheeky smirk. He takes my wrists between his forefingers and thumbs and
massages them gently. Looking at them and not at me, he speaks his thoughts out loud. “I will never
love anyone the way I love you,” he states with total conviction. He looks into my eyes and the
vulnerability I see causes me to pull my lips together to still my quivering mouth.
“I feel the same Ayden. Sometimes I think I love you too much and the passion we have for each
other is so potent, it’s overwhelming. You know?” I look down at the newly formed rings around my
wrists. Even they are his signature colour now. Alenka was right: he has left his mark on me.
“It scares the shit out of me too,” he confesses with a watery smile. “But I wouldn’t have it any
other way.” He stretches out his arm for me. “Come here, I’ve got a proposition for you.”
“The last time you said that, you wanted to be my submissive.” I kiss his chest and place my hot
palm onto a waxy pectoral muscle. “Having a change of heart? Elizabeth is around here somewhere.” I
glance around the room. I feel the ripples of a chuckle in his chest.
“Fuck no. I don’t think I could have played let’s pretend a moment longer.” He kisses my hair.
“Although it was the best experience of my life, falling in love with you.”
“Me too. You made it so easy for me.”
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. “That’s not true. You didn’t give up on me, even
when you should have.”
I pull away from him and look into his eyes, searching for clues. “Where’s this going Ayden?”
He takes my face in his hands, making me feel overawed and apprehensive. “Let’s get married.
Soon.”
I’m taken aback, twist free of his hand and come to rest on the bed, flat on my back. “I know the
sex was good but not that good!” I state playfully, trying to lighten his mood.
He pins me to the mattress with his stare. “Behave! This has nothing to do with the sex. It’s about
us making it real.”
I push back my mangled hair. “It is real Ayden. There’s no denying it.”
“I know, but you said you belong to me, I heard you …”
He’s putting me on the spot and I’m feeling out-manoeuvred. I pull in a deep breath. After all
we’ve said and done, still that insecure little boy will not be put to bed. His need to protect me, to own
me and to possess me totally is staggering. I’m not sure I can live with the intensity of it all. I roll to
my right, heading for the bathroom. I need time to think this through. “I’m not doing this now Ayden
…”
Before I can set one foot on the floor, he leans over and grabs my wrist. “Where are you going?”
I glance down at my ensnared arm. “To the bathroom – if that’s alright with you?” I make no
attempt to pull away but force him to release me with no more than a look cold enough to freeze beer.
I enter the bathroom, closing the door behind me, catching sight of myself in the full length mirror.
My face is flushed from exertion and my hair is a tangled mess. On my breasts are pressure patches;
mapped out across my abdomen and hips are red blotches in the shape of several European countries. I
glance down at my up-turned wrists. They are marked and a little sore. Matching, pale purple bracelets
encircle them like the rings on an ancient tree.
Knowing Ayden is growing impatient for my return, I pass water and turn on the tap, not thinking
for one minute that will pacify him. Does he want me to be totally subservient? Will he only be
satisfied when I become his possession; a bird in a gilded cage? I don’t know, and that scares me.
In fact, I don’t know who he is. Not really.
I splash my face and calm my wayward thoughts, fill a glass with water and slip on a bathrobe.
When I come out, I have an unnerving awareness of his eyes on me. Simply lying there naked and
composed, there’s a classical elegance about him. I cross the room and hand him the glass, keeping
my eyes high, avoiding his sculptured body. He has no right looking this fucking sexy after what he’s
done, not when I look like I’ve been in a wrestling contest – and lost. I retire to the chaise longue
facing the bed at the other side of the room. With what I’m about to ask, I feel the need to put some
distance between us.
“What’s going on Ayden?” He looks in my direction, not at me but through me. That’s not good.
“Do you want to take this conversation upstairs? Maybe we should …”
He breaks in. “…Maybe we should discuss your reasons for not wanting to marry me, right here?”
“My reasons? I need reasons?” I want to end this conversation but I know he has the bit between his
teeth and won’t let go until we come to some kind of resolution.
“You’ve got a very expensive ring on your finger or maybe you’ve forgotten about that?”
I detect a hint of menace in his voice and it chills me from the tip of my toes to the bristling hairs
on my neck. I look into his eyes and, even from six feet away, I see the remnants of something
forgiven but not forgotten: a fear of rejection and abandonment. Not this again. I’ve met this man
before, he scared me then and he’s scaring me now. “I don’t like your tone Ayden. I’m going upstairs
…” I stand purposefully and take hold of the door handle. It will not budge.
“You can’t. The door’s locked.”
I tighten the belt around my waist and keep my back to him, considering my next move but before I
can construct a sentence, he slides off the bed and wafts past me on route to the bathroom. I return to
the chaise longue and await my fate.
He comes out of the bathroom wrapped in his bathrobe. Pulls open a small fridge door and takes out
two bottles of wate
r, drops one in my hands and settles himself on the bed.
“Open the door Ayden.” My voice is soft but controlled.
“Why? We’re having a discussion and you won’t be able to hear what I have to say from down the
hallway. And stop pouting. When you do that, I’m reminded of where that mouth has been.”
I won’t be distracted. “You know how this looks, don’t you?”
“No. Tell me Beth. How does this look?” I do believe he’s toying with me. Is he getting off on my
discomfort?
“It looks like you’re keeping me here against my will.”
“Am I?”
“Well, you won’t open the door.” I swivel round and find him looking at me with amusement; he’s
flushed with humour.
“I don’t have to.” His face breaks into a wicked grin. “There’s a button by the light switch.” He
nods in that direction. “But there is something I need to say to you first, before you go running for the
hills.”
I’m not going anywhere. Not now.
Playing for time, he turns the top off the bottle and drinks from it in long, languid gulps the way he
did the day we met. It was erotic then and it’s erotic now. I try to shake free of the memory but it has
me gripped; I cannot take my eyes of him.
“Come here, sit by me.” He pats the vacant space to his right. I refuse to budge. He smiles and nods.
“OK. I get it. Please come here and sit by me. I won’t bite.”
Of course you won’t – not hard anyway.
My irrational fear is changing, evolving into something very different. I’m sure there’s a word for
it but it escapes me. I’ll settle for enthralled. How does he do that to me at the flick of a switch? I
circle the bed and climb upon it, sitting crossed-legged with my robe wrapped around my knees and
my belt tied tightly about me.
“Don’t look so worried Beth, I’m not some fucking psycho.” He screws the top back on his bottle
and drops it on the floor.
I conceal my sensual thoughts behind an affectionate smile. “I know that Ayden.”
He edges over to my side of the bed and takes hold of both my hands, ruffling the cuffs to reveal
my wrists. Softly, his thumbs rub against the tinted skin, followed by his lips. He puts down our hands,
creating a bundle of fingers and thumbs on my knees.
TouchStone for giving (The Story of Us Trilogy) Page 18