Tethered Love (The Knot Duet Book 2)

by M. Mabie

  We hadn’t discussed anything, and while I was happy to explore her body, there were a lot of things still hanging in the air. I didn’t know what that meant, but fuck if I could help myself.

  She had a hard time making eye contact with me, and as much as she usually spoke, she stayed nearly silent. My hand behind her head, I tried to steer her gaze to meet mine, but she was eluding me.

  How many times had I pictured taking her? Claiming her? Teasing and showing her how good we could be? This was so different from every scenario I’d played over in my head.

  There was no better or worse, it was just different.

  We fit together like our bodies had been precisely machined to be the other’s counterpart. The way she moved had me forgetting how I usually reveled in control, but since there had been no discussion to hinge anything on, I was left to be in the moment.

  She leaned into my touch and my balls tightened.

  I gave up trying to capture her gaze and refocused my attention on holding my composure.

  She was a tight, hot, wet Heaven.

  Like this, my mind was almost crystal clear, and I was thankful.

  She rocked into me and having sensed that she was a little nervous, I let her lead where I could. Riding me, she found a pace that was both hypnotic and measured. Her hands cupped my face and she kissed me like we’d been together for years.

  Her teeth grazed my bottom lip as quiet whimpers tumbled from her mouth into mine.

  The condom had been smart, but knowing first-hand how she felt without it was a mistake. Feeling every bit of her was more than I’d bargained for, better than I’d expected.

  Although what she was doing was bending my sanity, I wasn’t able to move like I wanted. Wasn’t able to reach the spot I knew was there.

  I needed to fuck her.

  Moving forward, I lifted under her ass and rolled her onto her back, my knees meeting the floor. Swift as I was, our connection never broke. She propped herself up on one elbow, and her other hand hung onto me.

  Her ass was hanging off the ottoman in such a way that I managed to push into her like I wanted. Like I needed.

  Sure I’d wanted to be gentle, but I didn’t have any willpower left in me to hold back anymore. She was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

  The way her hair fell to one side showing me her long neck.

  Her bare chest provided a view of a pair of breasts I’d no less dreamed up because they were flawless. Small, yet full. Delicate, rosy nipples responsive to my touch. I buried my face there and took turns as I pulled one and then the other into my mouth as she bucked against me.

  “Ah,” she panted. Her fingers tangling in my hair holding me against her.

  She still hadn’t told me exactly what she wanted, but I was learning a few things on my own. She liked deep strokes inside of her and tightened around me, it seemed, on every inward thrust.

  “You like that,” I said raising up to speak to her.

  Again, she averted discussion and turned her head, eyes tightly shut. Hopefully she was distracted and not ignoring me.

  “Tell me when you’re close, Nora.”

  Wordlessly, she moaned, which I accepted as an answer. Yet, I wasn’t satisfied. I wanted a real confirmation. My lips found her ear and I spoke into it.

  “You don’t have to talk. I feel how much you like it. Don’t shut me out, though. Not like this.” Her cheek rolled into mine, and her breathing came in sharp, rapid spurts. “You’re getting there. I can tell, baby,” I said. I wasn’t sure when I’d made the decision to call her that, but it happened that way. And each time I said it, she’d responded.

  Her arm slipped out from under her, and she fell back onto the cushion. I slid my arms under her to hold her securely to me. I embrace her tightly, and as I pressed into her, I pulled her onto me.

  “Tell me when,” I instructed. It was one small way I could be myself.

  She shook her head slightly, and her fingers dug into my shoulders, driving me into a place I couldn’t control any longer. I wanted her to be there. With me. I’d do anything to ensure that were the case.

  I felt her internal grip squeeze me tighter and tighter.

  “Nora, I’ll slow down. Please, I need this. Look at me,” I said and pulled back the few inches I could spare. Her eyes were still screwed tight, her mouth panting in the shape of the perfect O. “Open your eyes.”

  I needed something. Anything.

  Then something beautiful happened. Her lust-filled eyes opened and fell on mine. She lazily blinked, and then her lips moved ever so faintly, and I watched her mouth the words, “Reagan, don’t stop. I’m coming.”

  What a sight.

  What a gift.

  She’d done these two small things, and that was where I lost it all. Every shred of poise I had splintered. Every last drop of control evaporated into thin air.

  There was no holding back. There was nothing to gain from biding my time.

  With my back into it, flexing and reflexing, I gave her all of me. Everything escalated. Sounds fought their way out of my throat, but I never dared look away.

  She didn’t either. The look of blissful agony on her face mirrored what I felt, and the sensation of my own release surged through me. A tight clenching throb pulled at both my cock and my heart.

  I pushed hard; she pushed back.

  She shouted, and I shouted, and with one final thrust, I forced everything I had out of myself and into her. It was only a second, a brief moment, but she then gave me the most splendid, satisfied grin.

  I heaved a breath, and my body continued to impulsively shudder inside of her. Feeling her do the same in response.

  “Jesus,” I said. Pressing my forehead against hers as I tried to catch a lungful of fresh air.

  “I know,” she agreed, panting.

  None of it was how I’d wanted our first time to be, but it was so fucking incredible I didn’t want to wish it away. I only prayed I’d have a chance to give her more, preferably in a bed or somewhere more comfortable. The ottoman had just been the first thing I saw. She relaxed further into the big stool, worn and sated, and laughed.

  That had to be a good sign.

  I didn’t want to move. I could have stayed buried in her for the rest of my life, but that wasn’t practical. Then again, what about that evening had been?

  We’d debated cheating, and more, with my kid sister. We’d argued, which was nothing new. I’d made up my mind that I was willing to learn more about her lifestyle, granted we moved a little faster because of my own lime-green jealousy.

  I was leaving my comfort zone. I didn’t want to be the robot in our relationship, and I damn sure wouldn’t be a coward.

  “We still need to talk,” I whispered, as she ran her fingernails softly up and down my back.

  “I know, but I’m not sure if I’m ready yet.”

  When would she be ready?

  Then again, I had to give her some credit. Although it was her friends who canceled, she’d let me back into her place. She didn’t have to do that. She could have told me to leave.

  Instead, she’d invited me in. Told me she wanted me. Kind of. I needed more clarification on this.

  “I’ve been reading up on some things I think you’d appreciate,” I said and slid down to the floor. She clumsily followed me and quirked an eyebrow.

  “So that’s what you wanted to talk about?” she asked. “Books?”

  “Not specifically books, but more about what I’ve learned from them. I have some questions, too?” We were naked, and I still had a condom on. Our conversation deserved more attention than I could devote to it while she sat there completely undressed. “I think we need to put some clothes on though, or I won’t be able to concentrate.”

  She gave me a witty smile and said, “Okay, but I want to talk first.”

  I hadn’t anticipated that. I reached behind me and found my pants and boxer briefs and handed her the shirt she’d been wearing. She pulled it over her head and sto
od.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said and walked off toward her bedroom. I took advantage and walked down the back hall to her spare bathroom. Dispelling the condom and washing up quickly before pulling my boxer briefs and pants up my legs.

  When I came back into the living room, she’d sat on the couch and was hugging a pillow. That wouldn’t do. I knew what it was like to hold her now, and I wouldn’t go back to my side of the furniture anymore.

  I sat in the middle and stole the pillow from her, then pulled her bare legs so that they lay across my lap. I was again surprised when she didn’t seem to mind.

  If she wanted to go first, that was fine, but she better get to it before I slipped my hand under her shirt again. I could feel my arousal already returning.

  “Okay, first I’d like to say that was incredible.” Her voice was candid, and I liked how comfortable she seemed. There was a glimmer in her pretty eyes, and like a cocky bastard, I pretended it was because I’d put it there. She found my hand as it wandered over her naked leg and laced her fingers with mine to preemptively thwart my efforts.

  My other arm stretched over the back of the couch, and I reached out to touch her hair.

  “This is what I’m thinking—and I don’t know what you’re going to say—but it might have just been so good because it was our first time. Does that make sense?” I knew what she was getting at, but I didn’t agree with her at all.

  I didn’t want to be argumentative, so I kept my mouth shut, hoping she’d continue.

  She did.

  “I don’t know what you’ve read yet, or what you think you know, but one of the major theories I have on why I like being the way I am is because of the excitement. You know the firsts? When you’re with more than one person, it seems like every move is new.”

  Fuck that.

  I knew new. That wasn’t the reason I came that hard. I hated that she was trying to find excuses already.

  “So you think you only liked it because we’d never been together before?” I made every effort to hide my skepticism.

  She sucked air through her teeth and shook her head, noncommittally. “Yeah. Well, maybe. I don’t know.”

  That was easy. I wasn’t sure if it was because troubleshooting was a hobby of mine, or because I was simply a man, but the answer to her issue was simple.

  She continued, “So we can talk about whatever you want, but I still might not be able to say whether this is going to work for me.” She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and waited for me to say something. She looked braced for an argument.

  “All right. I don’t think this is a problem.”

  God, I fucking hoped it wasn’t a problem.

  I continued with confidence. Fake it until you make it, right? “There’s an easy way to prove your theory. We’ll have to have sex again.”

  She laughed and tucked her face into the back of the couch. “Reagan, that’s not what I was alluding to.”

  Wasn’t it? It was the only way to prove her theory.

  Plus, she hadn’t asked me to leave and hadn’t moved away from my touch. She was still there with me.

  “But...” I coerced. If she wanted round two, for posterity’s sake, I’d sure as fuck give it to her.

  “But, I don’t know. Maybe? It would be a waste of time going into all of the fine details, especially if everything could change.”

  I didn’t think any of that were likely—at least on my side—but if that was what she needed, then so be it. Being given a second chance to worship her body in one night was not a hardship.

  I’d prove to her that it was no fluke. We were good together. It was so damn worth it.

  “Okay, we can talk about this later on two conditions,” I said.

  She puckered her lips in contemplation, a challenging smirk across her mouth. “Okay.”

  This shit was what compromises were made of. She would get what she needed, and I’d ask for what I wanted in return. Pleasantly, her demands were reasonable.

  “One. You finally let me take you out to dinner tomorrow. We can talk about everything there. That actually works in my favor since you’re a huge distraction.” I pulled our hands to my mouth and place a kiss on her knuckles.

  “And two?” she asked scooting closer to me.

  “Two. You let me take you to my bed tonight.” That was partly her stipulation, I’d only modified it. Sex in the living room was great, but I wanted her in bed. Where I had room to explore all of her body.

  “We can go into my spare room,” she offered, but that wasn’t good enough.

  “No. My bed or yours.” I knew what I was doing.

  She squinted and said, “But you said my bed was too small.”

  “Good, then we’ll go to mine.” That was my preference anyway. She looked a little apprehensive. “Or we could lay it all out and talk this through now.”

  Her eyes darted around the room and bit the inside of her cheek, but didn’t argue.

  “Fine. I’ll go to dinner with you,” she said and climbed the rest of the way on my lap. “Are you sure number two is a good idea?” For once she was looking into my face when we were this close. I wanted to tell her how much that simple gesture did for me, but there was no easy way to say it.

  Instead, I answered, “Number two is very important. I’m not even close to done with you yet.”

  Even then, the thought ran through my mind that I may never be done with her.

  THREE

  PAST

  NORA—Friday, July 4, 2008

  What if he’s never done with me?

  I lay sprawled out on Reagan’s king sized bed, already naked as he pulled the shirt back over my head the second we came through his door. I ran my fingers over the expensive sheets that covered his mattress and watched him walk around his room.

  He’d abandoned his undershirt, only putting on his dress shirt, but left it unbuttoned. He retrieved his wallet from his pants and placed it on the dresser, moving slow and taking his time.

  It was driving me nuts, but before I knew it he was naked with me on the bed, his head was between my legs, and all thoughts of frustration and worry, about if this was really where I should be, were gone.

  He licked all the right spots. He touched and teased and caressed me into a frenzy, but never held out on me. Never backed away like I’d expected him to. I wasn’t sure if this was how he normally was with women—something told me no—but he was generous and masterfully took his time at whatever he was doing.

  In turn, when I got close I told him because it felt so good, and I wanted to show him how appreciative I was.

  “I’m about to...” I panted as he pushed my knee out further. He was on his knees between my legs, bent over licking and fingering me to a point of sheer madness. The expression on his face, as he pulled away enough to watch what he was doing to me with two talented fingers, was like looking directly at the sun. Blistering and hot.

  My hips rose into his touch, and my vision started to get fuzzy like my thoughts. “Reagan,” I moaned.

  Breathless, he said. “See, Nora. It’s not because it’s new. It’s because it’s us.”

  What if he was right?

  In his bed, things were different, and it surprised me how much I liked it. He was kind and powerful at the same time. He was rough and gentle almost simultaneously.

  I’d already orgasmed twice since leaving my apartment, and it felt like things were only getting started. Where at first his dirty talking had made me almost tense, it was now soothing, and the more he spoke, the more I responded.

  Ultimately, he was right. If the first time it was good because it was spontaneous and impulsive, then the second time was better even having been planned.

  His body captivated mine.

  He was muscular and strong, and even though I’d never been drawn to that before, having that body please me was exhilarating. He kissed the back of my leg as I spread myself before him. His hand teased my center. Then, he positioned me on my side and clim
bed up the bed behind me.

  On our sides, he pulled my leg over his hip and entered me that way.

  His body moved at an exquisite pace.

  His hand on my clit.

  His mouth on my ear.

  “God, I wanted you so fucking bad the second I saw you. Wanted to hear you say my name. Wanted to feel you come apart from the inside out.” He sucked my earlobe between his lips and groaned a most erotic sound.

  My eyes fell shut, and I let myself get swept away in the heat of it all.

  This time, when I came, I was louder than I could ever remember being.

  “That’s right. Let me hear you,” he said as mindless words tumbled from my lips.

  “Yes, please. Please. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop, Reagan. I’m coming.”

  He didn’t stop. He didn’t even miss a beat.

  I fell asleep there, but only for a while. When I woke up, I was on the opposite side of the bed from him, but our feet still met at the end. I rolled over and willed my eyes to adjust to the darkness so I could get a look at him.

  I needed to go home. I hadn’t ever planned on staying the night, not that it was anything groundbreaking, sleeping in the same bed as him. It was the morning I was trying to avoid.

  I’d agreed to our date, but I was in no hurry to answer his questions. I was so unsure of what my thoughts were on it all.

  I was irrefutably attracted to him. There was no way I could ever deny how I reacted to his touch. His voice. His taste.

  He was becoming fun to be around. Was that because I was getting used to him, or was it the other way around? I didn’t know. His smiles were more frequent than they’d been when we first met, and his personality wasn’t as dark and brooding as I’d first labeled him.

  He was growing on me, and not just sexually.

  I liked him.

  I respected him.

  I couldn’t get him out of my head, but I needed a little space to think about it all and what it meant for me. I no longer worried about if he could give me what I needed, because in every way he had.

  When I was hurt, he tended to me. When I needed him, he came freely.

  I worried whether or not I could give him the same. Could I be there for him?