by Brandi Evans
Viv continued, whispering a line that threatened to completely and utterly do him in. “I’m gonna get the truth out of you, Brock, even if I have to chain myself to your side.”
“That’s a dangerous thing to say around me, sweetheart.”
Vivian’s heart pounded, but she wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or arousal. Or maybe a little bit of both.
Before following Brock into the kitchen, she’d made up her mind—she was getting the damn truth out of him one way or the other. And if she had to, she’d use every erotic weapon in her arsenal to get the truth. At least that had been the theory, but now, she wasn’t so sure.
Brock’s blues eyes darkened to a tumultuous black. He looked like a man on the verge of spontaneously combusting. His fisted hands shook. His shaved head took on a slight red hue. The creases of his forehead formed a treacherous series of hard lines. If it were any other man looking at her like this, she’d most likely already be running for safety.
Somehow, she found the courage to speak. “Dangerous how?”
“In ways you have yet to imagine.” He hooked his index finger beneath her chin and held her gaze against his. “Would you really chain yourself to my side, Viv?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but not a single word made it past the lump of emotions lodged in her throat. She’d meant it as a figure of speech but nothing on Brock’s face said he was talking about anything in the figurative. The expressions were raw and primal. Part of her expected him to go all Neanderthal and whack her over the head, carry her off to his bedroom and literally tie her to something.
The idea thrilled her more than she wanted to admit.
“I want more than one fabulous round of sex out of you,” she said, “and if I have to become a permanent fixture around here until you finally tell me what’s going through that hard head of yours, so be it.”
His nostrils flared. She was close to breaking through to him. He was about to crack. She felt it in her bones. She just needed to keep up the pressure.
Time to pull weapon one out of her erotic arsenal.
She breached the invisible barricade he’d constructed between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You care for me, Brock. I know you do, so there must be a damn good reason you’re pushing me away. I’m gonna get that reason out of you. Someday. Somehow. But in the meantime…” She half pulled him to her, half pushed up to him, stopping only when her lips grazed his. “How about I help you release some of the tension tightening these broad shoulders?”
Despite the rigidness of his form, his hands cinched around her waist, pulled her body against him. “And just how might you help me?”
“I’ve got a condom tucked between the girls, and it’s all yours. I’m all yours, all you have to do is take it.” She pressed her lips to his. “Take me.”
He hesitated only a second—maybe even half a second—before devouring her. Like pouring gasoline on a smoldering pile of wood, they went up in flames.
His strong arms lifted her. She wrapped her legs around him as drove her back against the table. With all the finesse of a caveman, he forced her onto her back and wrenched her legs wide. Impatient fingers yanked her dress down just enough to let the girls burst free, and before she could wrap her mind around his sudden outburst of domination, he freed his erection, ripped into the condom she’d stolen from his bedside table and rammed his cock deep and hard into her.
“Oh god.” Air rushed from her lungs and her pussy constricted around his massive length. Like last time, his girth caught her off-guard. His thick cock was as much for pleasure as for punishment, and he wasted no time putting that wonderful instrument to good use.
He plowed into her fast and hard. The girls bounced around with every incredible thrust. He fucked her like a man who meant it and he wanted to make sure she knew it too.
Their tongues dueled, slapped against each other with the same intensity of their coupling. “Mmm,” she groaned into his mouth. She made a move to reach for him, but he caught her around the wrists and one big hand pinned her arms above her head. The other arm wrapped around her thigh like the unforgiving grip of a hungry python.
She tested his hold, but with the exception of some innocent flailing, she was helpless, completely under his control, his to use until he was finished. Why did the idea turn her on so much?
He practically snarled as he pounded into her, his thrusts oh-so-wonderfully hard. He drove his length deeper into her sex, worked her inner muscles until her world exploded in a massive ball of swirling white light and pleasure.
Who knew brutal could feel so good?
“Viv.” Brock’s thrusts lost rhythm. His entire body went rigid, and he joined her in ecstasy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He drove deep one last time and stayed there, fusing their bodies together as erotic afterglow descended on them.
He released her hands, and his elbows came to rest beside her arms. He cradled her head in his palms. His mouth found hers in a kiss as passionate and controlling as their explosive lovemaking—but a whole lot gentler, more tender.
But this time, she welcomed the tenderness because Brock wasn’t making even the slightest attempt to pull away. That told her everything she needed to know.
Eventually, his lips set off to explore, leaving her free to use her mouth for something other than consuming his kisses. “Okay,” she began, her voice so breathy it hardly sounded like her own. “You can’t tell me that was the reaction of a man who wants to slow things down.”
“Absofuckinglutely not.” He kissed her neck, nipped and licked his way to her earlobe. “That’s the reaction of a man who wants you more than his next breath, a man who wants to tie you to his bed and never fucking let you go.”
His words sent aftershocks of pleasure cascading through her blood. “You’ll get no complaint from me. No sir.”
His body went stiff. Maybe not stiff but very sturdy, and he pushed away from her, but only enough to completely captivate her gaze. Emotion swarmed in his blue eyes.
That same sense of unease slithered back into her guts. “What?” she asked, dreading his answer. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” he whispered. “You said something perfectly right.”
“I did? What?” She tightened her arms around his neck. “Tell me and I’ll make sure and say it again.”
Smiling, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss against her lips. “What do you say we take our dessert upstairs and finish it in bed?”
He was changing the subject again, but this time she decided not to call him on it. She’d get answers out of him soon enough. Besides, the idea of her and Brock naked in his bed with ice cream…
Oh my god.
Carefully, Brock eased his spent cock from her channel then headed to the wastebasket to rid himself of the used condom. “I don’t know about you, but I suddenly feel the need for a quick shower before dessert.” He grinned at her over his shoulder. “You?”
“Well, I do suddenly feel a little dirty, but I have a feeling we’ll feel much, much dirtier after dessert.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” On his way back to the table, he grabbed the two bowls from the counter. Mischief danced in his eyes. “Last one upstairs has to give oral sex first.”
She grinned.
They both sprinted for the stairs.
* * * * *
Brock lay propped up on one elbow and visually consumed his lover.
Viv lay sound asleep on his mattress after a long, long night of lovemaking. He hadn’t told her about the BDSM stuff yet, even though she’d pushed and pushed him to open up, and he’d been too wrapped up in her to chance ruining everything. He’d wanted to drink in as much of her as he could for as long as he could.
Just in case.
But he had decided how he’d tell her. A nice lunch at Ravenous, the BDSM restaurant he owned, would be the perfect backdrop. Without admitting he actually practiced the lifestyle, he could introduce her to it in a friendly, nonthreatening manne
r. He could gauge her responses then use that response to plan how he would tell her. It seemed the safest, sanest option.
The late-morning sun played over her naked back, and just like that, he wanted her all over again, which wasn’t exactly a new thing. Every time he took her, it revved up the Dom in him even more. It had taken every ounce of willpower not to break out all the bondage gear tucked neatly in his closet and bind her completely open to him.
He trailed a fingertip over her exposed shoulder. She’d make the most spectacular sub. He had no doubt about that. She had enough fire in her to keep from letting herself become a doormat, but enough control to keep from becoming a troublesome sub. She was perfect. If only he could make her see—and accept—the same vision.
The idea of taking Viv as his bottom intoxicated him. To share himself completely with her, he’d never wanted anything more in his life. But what about her? Could she accept him for who he was? Or would she reject him and his world outright?
He fought down the bile suddenly bubbling in the back of his throat. The idea of losing Viv forever, with no chance of a future, broke his heart. To have her in his arms for the rest of his life, he’d give up anything, even the lifestyle. At least he wanted to believe he could. He’d always figured nothing would be too great a price to pay if Viv was the prize, but denying a part of himself didn’t sit well on his conscience either.
Couldn’t he have his cake and eat it too?
Despite having made up his mind to not make love to her again until he’d told her his BDSM secret, the need to feel closer to his woman overwhelmed him. Slowly, carefully, he eased beside her so they were skin to skin. Her soft form fit so perfectly against him. He draped a free arm over her middle and bent closer.
His lips used her shoulder, her neck, her upper back as an erotic playground. Between the shower and the constant couplings, the artificial scent of vanilla and lavender that usually clung to her was gone, replaced by the subtle scent of woman and sex. And him. She smelled like she belonged to him.
And damn, wouldn’t that be nice.
Viv stirred under his attention. Her body went hard beneath the weight of her “first-morning-stretch” but then immediately softened. “Go away,” she said, a smile stretching her mouth. “I’m exhausted. Someone kept me up all night.”
“What a coincidence. Someone kept me up all night too.”
She pushed closer. “Feels like you’re, um, up again now.”
“What can I say?” He tugged her fully against him, giving her side a good press with his morning wood. “You’re naked in my bed, my scent all over you, you’re lucky I let you sleep at all.”
Laughing, she pushed onto her elbows, wrapped herself around him and leaned in for a long, deep kiss. Their tongues played, soft little flicks that weren’t necessarily leading anywhere. Kissing for the sake of kissing. With Viv.
He liked that.
“Good morning,” she said when she finally pulled back. “It is morning, right?”
“Closer to noon than morning. I think we finally got to sleep sometime around dawn.”
“Well in that case, good afternoon.”
He laughed, leaned in and pressed his lips against her shoulder. “You do have a change of clothes, right?”
Confusion wrinkled her forehead. “I just moved out of the house I shared with my husband for a decade. Practically my entire wardrobe is in my trunk. Why?”
“Because I have a little surprise for you, sweetheart.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that. What is it?”
“It’s not so much something I want to give you but something I want to show you, a little insight into me so to speak.”
The sparkle in her eyes grew in intensity and she snuggled closer. “I like the sound of that much better.”
“Good.” He tapped another kiss against her lips, but what he’d meant to be a quick kiss before crawling out of bed and dressing suddenly turned into flat-out tongue warfare.
Viv coiled her arms around his neck, pulling, tugging, using her legs as sexy weapons, until she had him in the absolute worst possible position for maintaining his personal resolution for no more sex until he’d told her the truth.
Right smack between her naked legs.
Her feet hooked at his back, forcing his hard cock into ultra-close proximity to her spread-and-ready pussy. She rocked her hips into him, her wet heat painting the sensitive underside of his shaft. With one easy move, he could be balls-deep in all her scorching heat, but he’d made up his mind to—
Viv moaned his name. “Broooock.” A long, deep sound brimming with need and desire. For him, all for him.
And common sense went out the window.
“Did we go through that entire box of condoms last night?” she asked, breathless.
“No, there’s still a few left.”
“Then grab one already. I need your cock inside me, and I need it there now.”
Didn’t have to tell him twice.
He rolled to his back and reached toward the nightstand. Just as his fingertips graced the foil pack, Viv straddled him. They grappled over the condom, but enthusiasm interfered with efficiency. It took them two tries to get the damn rubber rolled into place.
Things picked up speed from there. His hands encircled her petite waist. She took him by the base of his cock as he slammed home.
She groaned, her hips pumping against his. “God yes.” Her hands pressed into the mattress on either side of his neck as she pushed back onto his groin.
Whack, whack, whack.
And that was when reality came crashing down. Her assault was nonstop. No tenderness, no Vivian sweetness. This was pure, ultra-passionate fucking. The problem with that?
She was in control, not him, and that was unacceptable.
“Get up.” Authority saturated his words. Commanding. It was the voice he used at the club, with his subs. “I want you on your knees facing the headboard.”
Her glassy eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, pet. On your knees facing the headboard. Now.”
He scrutinized those doe-in-the-headlight eyes. Violet orbs of confusion and maybe just a hint of rejection—he’d put both emotions to rest in short order. Just because he hadn’t told her about the lifestyle didn’t mean he couldn’t give her a subtle taste of what she could expect.
If he was careful, he could turn this round of sex into a learning experience. He didn’t need chains and whips and leathers to let her experience the lifestyle. Hell no. Authority and control were the only bindings he required.
Absolute authority and total control.
Chapter Five
Why did Brock suddenly sound so angry?
Viv stared down at her lover, shock mingling with arousal, but despite the gruff voice, those same caring eyes looked back. Her Brock. Sweet Brock. He was just ordering her around. Like Eugene always tried to. And yet Brock’s words were nothing at all like the ones Eugene had slung at her.
“What are you waiting for, sweetheart?” Brock’s hands cinched around her waist. “I gave you an order.”
He sure had.
Part of her wanted to tell him to fuck off—a throwback to her time with Eugene—but the other part just wanted to keep fucking him, no matter the circumstances.
The second half was currently in control.
With shaky legs and a pounding heart, she pushed from Brock’s hard body. The loss of his cock stretching her pussy left her feeling cold and needy. She hated that only one night as his lover had done that to her.
“Very good,” he said when she’d gotten into position. The mattress shifted behind her, and a moment later Brock’s hot body pressed close. Sure fingers wrapped around her wrists and positioned her hands against the headboard. “Now keep your hands right here. Under no circumstances, no matter what I do to you, do I want you to move them. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“I want to hear you say the words, pet.”
Pet? The
re was that damn word again. The term was degrading, at least it should be, right? A man calling a woman pet made it sound as if she were his property. She hated the idea of belonging to a man.
So why didn’t she hate the idea of belonging to Brock?
“I understand,” she whispered.
“Very good.”
He released her wrists. His palms trailed up her arms with all the speed of snakes slithering through molasses, leaving pinpricks of sensation in their wake. Her eyelids drifted closed, and she let his touch take her over. Soft swipes traveled down her sides, over the flair of her hip, stopping briefly at her outer thighs.
“Spread your legs a little more for me, sweetheart.” A couple playful fingers teased across her folds. “My cock needs access to this wonderful area.”
A shiver chased down her spine, priming her already aroused core, and she wasted no time obeying that order.
“Perfect.” He kissed her neck, snuggling ever closer. “Just like you.”
It was a line as cheesy as the bowl of queso she’d had at that wannabe Mexican joint last week, but she couldn’t stop the smile that claimed her lips. “I’m glad I please you,” she said as a joke, but there was nothing funny in his response.
“You have no clue just how much, Viv. No fucking clue.” He leaned back, his hand grazed over the swell of her ass as he gripped his cock and eased himself into position. His glans breached her entrance. He took his time, pushing in at an agonizingly slow pace, stretching her with the spectacular girth she was quickly growing addicted to. When he was fully imbedded, she lifted her hand toward his cheek.
“Nope.” He put her hand back to its former resting place. “I told you not to move, didn’t I? All I want you to do is focus on the orgasm I’m about to give you. Is that understood?”
She nodded. “Y-yes. I understand.”
“Very good.” His hands slid down and secured around her waist, pulling her back firmly against his erection as if making sure they were firmly locked. “Bend forward at the waist just a tad, love. There…that’s perfect.”