"Yeah. Em is good too. She went for ice cream." I motion to the living room. "You mind?"
He looks at me funny. "You're kidding, right?"
"No, I…"
"You belong here. You never have to ask to come in."
I step inside. The sky is streaked with one last burst of orange. I watch as the sun sinks below the horizon and the sky fades to a dark shade of blue.
I can do this.
My stomach flutters as I take a seat on the couch. I don't know why, but this feels more intense than anything we've done so far.
My heart is in my throat.
I'm shaking.
Brendon is looking at me with that caring expression. I know he feels deeply towards me, but is it love?
If it's not… this might scare him off.
This might be more than he wants.
Brendon sits next to me.
My body lights up with a mix of affection and desire. And nerves. My nerves are crashing into each other.
I love you.
Deep breath. Slow exhale.
Still, the words won't make it to my lips.
I look up at him. "Are you mad?"
"Not exactly." He leans close enough to run his fingers through my hair. "Next time, let's make that call together."
"That sounds fair." I lean into his touch. "How did I get so lucky to have you around, protecting me?"
"I'm the lucky one, angel." He drags his fingertips down my neck and over my chest. They skim the neckline of my t-shirt but they don't dip below it. "Is everything okay with Emma?"
I nod. "She's surprised but she's okay with it." I rest my head against his chest. "She says we're a good match. That we're both too serious and hardworking, except for when we're around each other."
His voice gets soft. "That might be true. No, it is. You're something else, Kaylee. You do something to me."
"Yeah?" My chest gets warmer. My stomach too. Maybe I can do this, say this. Maybe this really is going to be okay.
"Yeah." He leans down to press his lips to mine. "I never let myself believe it. You were off limits. You were too young, too sweet, too innocent for me. But I can't deny it anymore. I love you, Kaylee. And I want you to be mine for as long as you'll have me."
That warmth spreads all the way to my fingers and toes. "Yeah?"
He nods. "Fuck yes."
My lips curl into a smile. "I love you, too."
He presses his lips to mine. It's a hard, deep kiss and it wakes up every part of my body.
I sigh as I pull back. "What now?"
"Now, I'm going to tie you up and fuck you until you're screaming my name."
Chapter 12
One by one, every nerve in my body wakes up. I stare back at Brendon, dumbstruck, for longer than should be possible.
He's really going to tie me up.
I'm really going to be bound by him.
Holy shit. Heat spreads over my cheeks, down my neck, across my chest. My nipples tighten. My toes curl. My fingers dig into my sides.
His dark meet mine as he offers his hand. He raises his brows. Are you sure?
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.
I am sure.
I want this.
Even so, my hands are shaking. My fingers graze Brendon's palm. Slowly he envelops my hand with his. Then he's leading me towards the stairs.
My gait is unsteady. I trip on the first step. But I manage with the second. The third. I squeeze Brendon's arms as I fall into a trance. He's got me.
And I trust him.
The stairs feel impossibly tall. The hallway feels impossibly long. Finally, we make it to Brendon's room. The master bedroom. We were here earlier, but the circumstances were different.
He motions to the clean white sheet. "Sit."
I do.
He kneels next to the bed and pulls something from under the mattress. A restraints system.
So he isn't going to tie me to the headboard. I'm not sure if I'm relieved or disappointed.
The black restraints look sturdy but comfortable. Like an easy start. They aren't silly, furry pink handcuffs or hardcore metal buckles.
They're like Brendon—sleek and classy with that hint of naughtiness.
He sits next to me on the bed. His fingers skim my shoulder then he's tracing a line up my neck, over my chin.
His fingertips brush my lips. "You ready, angel?"
I'm not sure that I'll ever be 100 percent ready. But I do trust him. And I do want this. Badly. I nod.
"Take off your jeans."
My hands are shaking as I undo the button, then the zipper. I lift my hips to slide the garment to my thighs.
Brendon drops to his knees to peel them off my feet, one leg at a time. He looks up at me, his dark eyes intense with desire. "Now the top."
Slowly, I pull my top over my head and toss it aside.
His pupils dilate as he takes me in. He plants his hands on the insides of my knees and pushes my legs apart.
His lips brush the inside of my calf, my knee, my inner thigh. The soft touch sends waves of desire to my core.
He drags his lips up my inner thigh, over my panties, down the other thigh, down my calf, all the way to my toes.
He looks up at me. "You're not coming until you're tied to my bed."
Desire pushes my nerves away. "Then?"
"Then you'll come until you beg me to stop." He pulls his t-shirt over his head as he pushes himself to his feet. "Lay back."
I do.
"Take off your bra."
I have to arch my back to get the clasp. I slide the straps off my shoulders and toss the thing aside.
Brendon moves onto the bed. He keeps his body next to mine as he motions for me to raise my arms. I do. Then he's securing my left wrist with the restraint. The leather cuff is padded inside. It's soft but firm. I'm not getting out of it unless he releases me.
He moves to my other side to bind my right hand.
I tug at the restraints to test them. They're not tight enough to hurt me, but they're secure.
I really am bound to him.
I really am under the control of the man I've wanted all these years. No, it's more than that. I've trusted him all these years.
Loved him.
His eyes are still on fire. There's an intensity to him right now. He's more in control, more fixed on me. He looks down at me like I'm a work of art he's studying.
I nod a yes.
He leans down to brush his lips against mine.
I kiss him back as hard as I can. Already, I'm hungry for him. I need more of him, all of him. I part my lips to make way for his tongue.
But he doesn't give it to me. He teases me with quick pecks. Then with slow, shallow kisses. Each sets me on fire. Each sends waves of need to my fingers and toes.
He tastes good, but this isn't enough.
"Please," I murmur against his lips.
He teases me with another slow kiss on the lips.
Another.
Another.
I arch my back to grind my hips against his. But he's not there. He's at my side.
Slowly, he slings his leg over my hips to straddle me. The weight of his pelvis presses into mine. He's still in his damn jeans, but even with all the fabric in the way, I can tell he's hard.
I grind my pelvis against his. The friction is divine, but that, too, is not enough.
Brendon stares into my eyes as he brings his hands to my hips. He pins me to the bed, holding me in place, staring at me with a look that commands me to obey. This is his other side, the one that needs control. But not for its own sake. So he can push me to the edge. So he can fill me with pleasure.
He leans down to plant a soft, slow kiss on my lips. Then my chin. He does the same thing down my neck, over my chest, all the way to my waist.
He makes his way back up my body. Each of his kisses is a little slower, a little wetter. Each time, I shake a little harder, groan a little deeper.
He presses his lips against m
y neck. My chin.
My lips.
This time, he kisses me hard and deep. His tongue slides into my mouth and dances with mine. His hands go to my hair. They hold me in place as he works my mouth with his tongue.
All of our kisses have been intense, but this one takes it to the next level. With his tongue claiming my mouth, and his hands in my hair, and his hips grinding against mine, he really is in control of my body, my pleasure.
I relax into his kiss. My body fills with the strangest mix of satisfaction and need. I trust Brendon to give me what I want. But I want more of it. Now.
I groan into his mouth as I kiss him back.
I reach for his hair reflexively. With my wrists bound, I can't tug at his dark locks. I can't touch him. I can't do anything but submit to his desires.
God damn. Need pools in my core.
He takes his time kissing me hard and deep. Rocking his hips against mine. The friction of his rough jeans against my soft underwear is heaven. But that isn't enough.
It's not going to be enough until it's him inside me.
He drags his hand over my side, down my stomach. Then he's shifting to his side and dragging his hand over my panties.
My breath catches in my throat. I have to pull back to groan.
My eyes go to his. I must look as desperate as I feel, because he nods that same yes, and he rubs me over my panties.
His touch is feather soft. Every brush of his fingers sends waves of pleasure through me. But, still, I need more.
I arch my hips to meet his touch.
He pulls his hand away. "You're under my control, Kaylee." His eyes light up with desire. "If you want me to stop, you say stop."
I nod.
"Otherwise, all I want you to do is lie back and feel." He leans down to brush his lips against my neck. "And to scream my name."
"I want you to touch me."
He stares back at me as he drags his fingertips down my torso. They skim the edge of my panties, then he's dragging them back up my stomach.
He cups my breast with one hand. Then two. He just cups me. He isn't rubbing me, or teasing me, or touching me properly.
I rock my hips. I bite my lip. I stare back at him with desperate eyes.
Slowly, he drags his thumbs over my nipples.
He does it again.
Again.
He does it a little harder.
Then he's drawing circles with the pads of his thumbs. He's so in control and he's working me just how I need him…
Fuck.
Pleasure pools in my core.
My eyelids flutter together as Brendon teases my nipples. Again. Again. Again.
I fill up with bliss.
I get achy.
Desperate.
How can something that feels this good leave me this needy?
He teases me again and again.
He teases me until I can't take it anymore.
"Now," I groan.
He presses his lips against my stomach and lets out a low growl. It's nearly as needy as I feel. Somehow, I know he's about to give me what I want.
My skin buzzes as his touch gets harder. He drags his lips up my stomach then he's sucking on my nipple. The other. He starts soft then gets harder. He flicks his tongue against my tender bud. He nips with his teeth.
He bites me.
It's only a hint of pain, only enough to take my pleasure higher.
He does it again. Again.
He moves to my other nipple, teasing, tasting, sucking, biting. By the time he's dragging his lips down my stomach, I'm dizzy.
My back arches of its own accord. I spread my legs wide, inviting him. "Please."
He looks up at me. "Beg me."
Fuck, the thought makes me hot all over. I stare back at Brendon. "Please, touch me."
He tugs at the waistband of my panties. "Where?"
I rock my hips. "Here. My clit. Make me come." My cheeks flush. I can't believe these words are making it off my lips. But I can tell he's not going to give me what I want until I beg. I take a deep breath and I stare back at him. "Please, Brendon. Please make me come."
His pupils dilate. His breath gets heavy.
He wants this as much as I do.
He pushes my panties off my knees. I kick them to my feet. Then his palm is against my inner thigh and I'm trembling with desire.
How is it possible to need another person this much?
To need anything this much?
His fingertips graze my skin.
Higher.
Higher.
Almost.
There.
He brushes my clit with his forefinger. It's soft, a tease. That's enough to send a wave of pleasure through me.
He does it again.
Again.
Again.
"Harder," I breathe. "Please."
His touch gets harder. Harder. There.
"Don't stop," I groan.
He doesn't. He rubs me with just the right pressure, just the right speed. Back and forth. Front to back. Then it's those slow circles that hit me just right.
Again.
Again.
The tension in my sex winds to a fever pitch.
With the next stroke, all that tension unravels in a hell of an orgasm. With my wrists bound, my movement is limited. I can't tug at his hair. I can't squeeze the sheets.
That makes it more intense.
I groan. I shake. I scream.
Brendon looks up at me with hungry eyes. He doesn't give me any time to come down. Instead he plants a kiss on my inner thigh.
Then it's his tongue, lapping at my clit. It's not soft or easy. It's hard and fast.
It's intense enough to take my breath away.
It's too much too soon.
It hurts.
I can tell him to stop. He will.
God, that really is intense.
I'm not sure I can take it.
He licks me again and again.
"Brendon." I go to tug at his hair, but I can't.
I can't do anything but surrender to his touch.
With the next flick of his tongue, pleasure breaks through the discomfort. It hurts in a way that feels amazing.
"Fuck." I rock my hips against him. It's the only thing I can do to contain my pleasure.
But it's not enough.
I groan his name again and again.
Almost.
There.
"Brendon. Please." I'm not sure what I'm begging for, only that I trust him to give me what I need.
He groans against my clit. The vibrations set me on fire. With the next flick of his tongue, I fall over the edge. My eyelids press together. My toes curl. I scream his name again and again as I come. The pleasure is intense enough to knock me over. Thank god I'm already lying down.
He doesn't stop. He keeps going.
It's too much.
This time, I'm sure I can't take it.
"No more," I groan.
Immediately, he pulls back. He looks up at me. "You taste so fucking good, angel." He presses his palms against my hip bones. "You can take more."
It's not really a question. I nod anyway. "Fuck me."
"I'll fuck you when I've had enough of you coming on my face."
"Please."
He stares back at me, his eyes on fire. Is he going to relent? Is he waiting for me to beg?
I don't know.
I only know that I need him. Now.
"Please." I press my thighs against his ears then release my grip. "Please, Brendon. Please fuck me."
He drags his lips over my inner thigh. He raises a brow as if to say keep going.
"Please. I need you inside me." My exhale is sharp. "I need your cock inside me."
I just said that.
My voice gets demanding. Whiny even. "Now. Fuck me now."
Slowly, he drags his lips up my stomach, between up breasts, over my neck.
Then he's kissing me hard and deep. He tastes like me. The thought makes me needier.
With his palms against my inner thighs, he pins me to the bed.
With one hard thrust, he enters me.
Fuck, that's intense in the best possible way.
I feel home.
Whole.
He kisses me hard as he fucks me. I can only react by kissing him back. By rocking my hips against his.
Then he's holding my hips in place, and I can only react by kissing him back.
Brendon groans against my mouth as he thrusts into me. He goes harder. Deeper. Faster.
All I can do is soak in the sensation of him filling me.
Of the bliss building in my core.
A few more thrusts and I'm there. My world goes white. There's nothing but the beautiful, blinding light of unbearable ecstasy.
I shake.
I scream.
I stare back into his eyes. They're heavy with pleasure. Then his eyelids are pressing together and he's groaning my name.
He thrusts harder.
Faster.
"Fuck, Kaylee." He pins my hips to the bed and fills me with deep, hard thrusts. "I'm going to come in that pretty pink cunt."
He thrusts into me again.
Again.
God, that's intense.
But good intense.
Then he's there, groaning my name and digging his nails into my skin as he comes. His cock pulses as he fills me. His lips quiver. His shoulders shake.
He thrusts through his orgasm, then he collapses next to me.
He plants a soft kiss on my lips and unbinds my wrists, the right then the left.
Brendon takes his time checking my wrists. He plants kisses on each of my fingers, on my thumbs, on the inside of my wrists, up my forearms.
He pulls me into a tight embrace. "You like feeling like you're mine."
I nod. "I'm always yours."
"And I'm always yours."
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Protector
by Bella Love-Wins
Chapter 1
Reid
I can barely register the thrum of the guitar player on stage here at the Whiskey Jacks Saloon. He’s playing country western music, and wearing a plaid button down shirt and fringe along the sides of his tan chaps that cover his jeans, no less. Who can’t appreciate a cowboy in plaid and fringe? There are so few of us can actually pull that off. Usually I’m all about acoustic guitars, but not tonight. At the moment, my mind is on the redhead at the mic. I can’t take my eyes off the subtle swing of her hips as she sways to keep time. My breath stops short at the rise and fall of her chest when she holds a longer note as she delivers what I believe is the sweetest, sexiest rendition of Dolly Parton’s Here You Come Again that I’ve ever heard.
Begging for Bad Boys Page 29