And as if he could read her mind, he stopped.
His eyes were wild, glazed with desire but still laced with the anger that had driven him earlier. His glance took in the shadows falling across her face, and the pale spill of her hair as it pooled against the wall. He could smell her shower gel, and her shampoo, knowing that she’d spent at least an hour in the shower after her incident today—she always tried to drown her troubles that way. He could hear her breath as it hitched in her chest, and he could hear a voice in his head whispering more, more… her… swim in her, drown in her, drink her… more, more, MORE!
“Donovan, please…” she whispered in the dark, the words he’d ached to hear for months dripping from her lips, “I need you; I’m so sorry, please, please….”
He traced the pad of his thumb over her kiss-swollen lower lip and lowered his lips to her ear.
“I need to know that I can trust you. If you’re going to be part of my life, I need to know you can follow orders. Do you think you can do that for me?” He whispered darkly.
“Oh yes, anything… anything… I promise.” She babbled, all concern over his telling her what to do melting away in the thought of being part of his life and in the heat of her need for him.
“No Pet, not this time… promises aren’t enough. I need you to show me.” Donovan said calmly.
Darcy tossed her head wildly. Show him? She thought to herself. How am I supposed to show him? She brought her hands up to his face, trying to kiss him again, but he pulled back at the last moment and she almost whimpered her frustration.
“Let me show you. You can trust me. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it,” she swore emphatically.
“Take your shirt off.”
Donovan took two steps back allowing Darcy’s feet to gain purchase on the carpet and stopped. He didn’t speak, he didn’t move. He stood silently watching and waiting for her to do as he’d directed.
He saw her eyes widen in the dark room as he’d spoken. Her mouth opened to voice some argument, but her hands—although they clenched reflexively—made no move to remove her shirt.
He inclined his head slightly, accepted her silent refusal, and turned to leave.
“Donovan,” she started, stopping to swallow, trying to lubricate her rusty voice, “where are you going?”
“I’m leaving. I told you what to do, and even with something as simple as the removal of a shirt, you balk. You obviously don’t want this, so I’m leaving.”
A tremor raced through Darcy’s body as she realized the depth of her failing. She had promised him not once, but twice to do what he asked, and she had broken that promise both times. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. She’d have taken it off willingly, no happily, if it hadn’t been an order. But orders… her temper always got the better of her. Years of fighting her Da and her brothers… living with Liam but never giving over to him. It was her greatest failing, and her heart clenched in her chest as she watched that miraculous form as it wended its way through her darkened apartment and she whispered to him.
“Stop. Please.”
She grasped the tail of her long t-shirt in her shaking hands and pulled it indecorously over her head, her breasts bare in the darkness, his eyes a physical caress as they traveled across them. He turned, lithe and graceful, and glided toward her with the elegance of a natural predator. Every nuance of him inspired that comparison, promising a heady mix of danger and pleasure in his embrace. She began to shake as he drew nearer and she anticipated his intentions--shivering, but not from the cold.
His long fingers wound themselves into her hair, using it as leverage to draw her face closer to his. His other hand rested on her hip asserting his possession of her and he pulled her against him. His presence overpowered her and she inhaled his intoxicating scent—cologne, and soap, but also gun oil and the sharp tang of his sweat. The scent alone was enough to seduce her. It was unmistakably him, luxurious and masculine and it left her wanting to bury her face against his chest and breathe him in until he filled her every sense.
He brushed his open lips across hers with the softness of a feather, teasing her into response, and at that gentle contact, her relief was so strong her heart beat so in her chest that it felt close to bursting, but when she finally tried to catch his lips in a proper kiss, he pulled back.
"Follow me," he whispered.
Darcy followed along, caught in the pull of him. He didn't touch her once as they shifted, and he walked slowly ahead of her, trusting her to follow without turning to check. He led her into her bedroom and whispered, “Lie down.”
This time there was no pause in her response, lying down on the familiar bed with alacrity. They had been here before, and that made it easier somehow.
Donovan sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her.
“You have the most beautiful body,” he whispered throatily, and she felt pleasure at his words flush across her skin. “I lie in bed and dream of the satin of your skin dragging across me. I fantasize about having you draped across my chest, my cock in that velvet vise of your pussy, hearing you pant as you try to get some grip on the pleasure rocking through you.”
Darcy could feel the spurt of slickness that his voice triggered and rubbed her thighs together to try to alleviate the heavy ache consuming her. She groaned deeply, twisting on the bed, sitting up to try to persuade him to join her, only to have Donovan place one hand on her shoulder to push her gently back down onto the bed.
With his free hand, he gently lifted her breast and cupped her in his hand. He dipped his head and took her nipple in his mouth. Darcy squirmed as he tugged on her with his lips and she gasped when his teeth grazed her skin. She could feel her flesh tightening under his ministrations and she audibly moaned when he bit down. Every touch, every bite was bringing her higher, making her feel heavier, hotter.
“Donovan,” she whispered, “don’t you think you’re a little overdressed?”
She waited for him to stand and strip the clothes from his body, but he didn’t. He simply looked deeply into her eyes and replied.
“No.”
Things weren’t going the way she wanted or expected and she tried to sit up again, tried to gain control of things again, but again she was faced with Donovan’s implacable denial and the insistent hand on her shoulder pushing her back down on the bed.
“Darcy, I want you to lie on the bed. Don’t sit up. If you sit up, I’m going to leave. Do you understand?” He whispered.
Darcy growled her frustration and grasped handfuls of the bedclothes in her fists, but she knew he was serious and finally, drawing a steadying breath, she answered him.
“I understand.”
If it wasn’t gracious, as least it was clear, and Donovan nodded briefly to indicate his satisfaction. Darcy let out a little breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, half-afraid that Donovan would leave even after she’d acquiesced. Donovan was aware of her fear and comforted her.
He traced gentle patterns up the outsides of her legs and over her hips. He gently dragged his nails across the tender skin where her legs joined her torso. He grazed his knuckles feather light across her hidden clit, smiling in the darkness at the gasp that she could not control.
“Spread your legs for me, Pet,” he commanded quietly.
It took all of her control to follow his order, flushing hotly as her dripping pussy was exposed to his dark gaze. He dragged his fingertips across her swollen lips, spreading them slightly as he progressed more intimately. He dipped one finger into the soaking darkness, and then another, dancing lightly across her sensitive flesh until the muscles in her thighs quivered with her need.
Without warning, he slid higher and gave her clit a gentle pinch and Darcy bucked beneath his hands, a mewling sound echoing through the room as she spun higher and higher into the vortex of sensation Donovan was causing.
“Are you going to come for me, Darcy?” he asked quietly in the dark and she begged him, i
ntrinsically knowing that he would grant that pleasure if he thought she deserved it.
“Please, Donovan.” She breathed.
She let out a moan when she felt his fingers thrust inside her, roughly, harshly, again and again. His calloused skin produced a lush sense of pain just on the right side of pleasure, and her hips bucked off the mattress to meet his hand trying to assuage her growing arousal.
“Ask me for it, Darcy,” he said softly bringing her attention to him again.
“I need to come. Let me come,” she gasped out.
“Try again, Darcy. I’m sure you can find the right words if you try,” he said into her ear.
Darcy growled low in her throat. “Please, Donovan. I’ll follow orders, just let me come. Please. Please. Please.”
“ That will do this time, Darcy. Now… come for me.” With his words, he twisted his fingers until he hit that secret spot and Darcy shuddered uncontrollably, sparks shattering in the darkness behind her eyes. Tremors coursed through her body as her climax pounded through her, and her pussy clamped down on the fingers Donovan was burying inside her.
There was a sudden weight, and she shifted to accommodate Donovan’s newly naked body, holding him between her trembling legs, the pressure of his body against her rekindling the fires so recently banked by her shattering climax. His hands gripped hers and she felt his breath hot on her face as he kissed her neck, and nibbled her shoulder, murmuring sweetly that her pleasure was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
At first, she heard his voice as from a distance, clawing through the fabric clouding her senses—the words so unlikely she thought she might be hallucinating. But, as his body covered hers, his cock sliding into her still spasming pussy, she realized the truth of it—the necessity of it—and listening overwhelmed all her other needs.
“Anam Cara… my darlin’ Darcy… As long as you keep your promises, and you follow orders just like the others on the team, you have nothing to fear. I will not leave you. I will not hurt you. I will never lie to you, and I will always love you.”
Donovan rose on his elbows, quickening his pace, his cock sliding slickly in and out of her. He tilted his hips as he stroked, and she moaned as he managed to touch places she’d only dreamed about.
“My world is a dangerous place, and I am a dangerous man. But you? You are the most dangerous of all.”
Donovan lowered his head to her breasts and tugged a nipple as he continued his assault on her body, rocking her higher and higher up the slopes of her pleasure until she could see the peak glimmering in the darkness.
“You have to understand—I have to make you understand—I need to be able to trust you, to believe your promises. Not so that I can trust you with my heart. No—you already have that! But so that I can trust you with YOU.”
Donovan’s pace was becoming frantic as he plunged his cock in and out of her pussy, and she could feel the seams of the universe slowly beginning to unravel as she basked in the glory of his words and the power of his body.
“I will let no one take you from me,” he groaned into her ear. “No one! Not even you! You don’t have to love me, you don’t have to like me, but I will not lose you.”
Darcy began to keen as another orgasm shattered her existence, her pussy clenching madly around Donovan’s cock, milking it, demanding his release, and she cried out to him.
“Yours! Always! Never leave, never break my promise again, can’t lose you—you’re everything!” She gasped feverishly, hoping against hope that she had made enough amends that he would understand—would forgive. She understood his fear—she felt the same—she couldn’t lose him, she felt she would die if she did.
For a moment, the world stopped. Donovan couldn’t believe his ears. His fears of having lost her had driven him mad, and he had pushed her further and harder than he had ever dreamed of before, and it had led him to this. Paradise. He felt his cock harden, his balls tighten as his climax dragged itself from his control, flooding into her, bathing her in his essence. He felt her muscles as they spurred him on, his orgasm joining hers until they both collapsed in a sweaty pile of rubbery limbs on her bed.
“I love you,” she whispered hoarsely, her voice ragged from screaming her pleasure, “I never realized how important following orders could be.”
“There is no power in the order, Pet—only care. The power is in the following. You have always had all the power.” He murmured softly, stroking her damp hair back from her face as she dropped into an exhausted sleep. He dropped a soft kiss on her brow and made a promise in the darkness, “And always will.”
About The Author:
Tacie Graves isn’t schizophrenic; she just writes what the voices in her head tell her to. Living in the middle of the Midwest with her husband and two children, her days are spent in a whirlwind of activities that always somehow lead back to her writing desk and the sexy stories that come alive there (which can be difficult sometimes when she has to explain why she’s looking at the pool guy just so.) She writes erotica for every woman because we can all use a little extra spice in our lives sometimes. Oh, and because the voices told her to.
If you liked Darcy’s story please take a moment and post a review. It means the world, and keeps the Muse motivated.
Thanks for reading!
Danger of Desire Page 6