by Angel Payne
“Compared to what I really want to do with you right now?” As he nodded, his forehead fell against hers. “Yes. This is bein’ a gentleman.”
He finished it by bending in, once more fitting their lips together. This time, the contact was a gentle brush. Jen didn’t hold back on the effect of it: a tremor that rifted the fault lines of her control. Her knees weakened. Her clenching cleft rubbed against her soaked panties.
“Sam?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t be a gentleman.”
A snarl ripped from deep inside him. As his mouth tore into hers all over again.
They groaned. Thrusted. Shifted. Needed. Jen hitched one leg around his waist. Then the other. Sam adjusted his weight, securing her hips to the wall by sliding his crotch against hers. Dear…God. The man’s erection, even shielded by his clothes, matched the rest of him. The bulge between her thighs was big, broad, throbbing…irresistible.
Which made the next moment a little unnerving.
All right…a lot unnerving.
Deep furrows of conflict creased his brow. He slowly shook his head. “Bold, bonny girl,” he finally rasped. “You still don’t understand.”
“Then make me,” she countered. “Please, Sam. Make me understand.”
He slid one hand to the side of her face. Angled his thumb beneath her chin, bracing her to continue gazing at him. Like that was a huge problem. “You can already feel how badly I want you.”
She couldn’t help giggling. “Sam, they can probably feel it two rooms over.”
He didn’t return her humor. “But things aren’t just that easy.”
She pushed her lips up at him. When he deliberately pulled back, she pleaded, “Why?”
“Because…I want you completely, Jen. All of you…surrenderin’ to me.” The skirmish across his face continued, until he seemed to reach some bold inner decision. Jaw newly firmed, he went on, “It means I want to put you on that bed, strip every thread of clothing from you, then bind you down,”—he pushed harder on the wrist he still held—“a great deal like this.”
Jen fastened her stare deeper into his. “Only the bonds won’t be your hands.”
New light flared against the smoke of his eyes. New blood surged into the girth of his cock. “My hands would prefer to be busy with other things.”
As her own blood rushed south, Jen sucked in a long breath. “But is all that even…possible? I mean, here? This is a hotel, not a kink club.”
“This is the Nyte.” He stepped back a little, only to slide open the door to the entry hall closet. Inside of that, there was another cabinet, containing a backlit display, much like a custom liquor array. But in place of Belvedere, Bacardi, and Patrón, there were items like wrist cuffs, blindfolds, and riding crops. “An honor bar for every thirst.”
“No shit.”
Her face heated all over again. It had nothing to do with the toys and everything to do with the new intensity of Sam’s stare. She couldn’t bear to return the scrutiny, for fear of what it would do to her bloodstream…and the little lake pooling between her legs.
“Is that a good ‘no shit’ or a bad ‘no shit’?”
Time to look up. Even if she spontaneously combusted from it, she had to let him see how much she meant her response. “Could anything be bad with you, Sam Mackenna?”
An expression suffused his face, something between humility and pleasure. It warmed her so deeply, she wished she could tell him to do it again so she could fetch her phone and make a GIF of it. But even a digital reproduction wouldn’t compare to the energy he gave off, a heat that made her wonder if her extremities would turn into fireworks. It made her response to his next words an absolute no-brainer.
“Very well, then. Get on that bed, and let me watch you take off every stitch of your clothes.”
Chapter Three
‡
She wasn’t sure she could last until the whole tie-me-up part. By the time she’d stripped to nothing but her panties, Sam’s gaze, matched in sensuality by his growls, had her pussy pulsing to the point of abject sensitivity. She was damn certain that once she took that last garment off, he’d be watching her come apart in the middle of the bed. The man himself didn’t help, having gone naked except for his pants. Every inch of his shoulders, arms, chest and abs were as ripped as she’d imagined, even showing off distended veins.
Unbelievably, she survived. With her heart turning her chest into a rave party, she slipped the underwear free, and prepared to give it the same saucy toss to the chair she’d just given her bra—
Until she looked up into Sam’s outstretched palm.
“Put them here.” His voice was little more than a murmur, but had her pulse thudding wildly. She complied, then watched as he rolled her panties between his impossibly long fingers. “Wet,” he finally growled. “Very wet. That is very, very good.”
Jen had no idea how to respond, so didn’t. She simply waited, knees tucked beneath her and hands resting on her thighs, hoping she still pleased him. She always tried to take care of herself, but no way in hell did she have Tess’s svelte perfection or even Mattie’s lush curves. She was just…somewhere in the middle. But maybe the middle was okay, at least for now.
“Holy fuck.”
His snarl made her nipples tingle. And her sex clench. And her head snap up. “At the risk of being trite, is that a good ‘holy fuck’ or a bad—”
“Lay back.” His interjection was rough, deep, and filled with masculine need. “All the way. I need to see you. All of you.”
His emphasis on the final three words was another torch to her desire. Jen couldn’t figure out why, until she was flat against the mattress with her wrists over her head, secured into cuffs he’d somehow secured to the headboard. She didn’t question the method—every square inch of this room seemed booby-trapped with erotic hidey holes—only enjoyed the full effect of the result. With her arms stretched, her breasts were taut and exposed, tips sizzling with awareness, jutting from puckered areolas. She was aware of every full, hot breath she took, and how those inhalations made her body tremble with brand-new awareness. She was an exposed wire, ready to spark and explode at the slightest provocation…
It was no huge surprise that her hips arched off the mattress when Sam dragged a knuckle down her sternum. That she keened as he descended that hand lower, turning it over in order to hold her abdomen down.
“Easy, mo luaidh.” His voice was a purr again, though infused with a new authority she couldn’t deny or ignore. “Easy, now. Stay right here for me. I want to explore this sweet cunt before I fill every inch of it.”
“Oh.”
It was the only word her lips would produce. It burst from her on a high gasp as Sam dipped his other hand between her thighs, parting her most sensitive folds with knowing expertise. Feeling his touch…on her…right there…
“Oh!”
She flushed, gulped, and cried out all in the same surreal moment, bucking once again. He pushed down on her a little harder, keeping her there, accepting his invasion whether she liked it or not.
But oh God, did she like it.
His finger, so elegant and strong, was soon joined by another. Then a third. Jen groaned, conscious of every new inch he stretched, every new claim he made on her flesh. Her legs fell open, needing to give him more. Still he dictated, “Farther. Open them wide, sweet Jenny. Show me what my cock is goin’ to conquer.”
“Yes.” It fell from her on a rasp as she spread her legs, turning into a creature she no longer recognized—but really liked. With Sam, she didn’t have to worry about right or wrong, about sexiness or acceptance. For just now, just tonight, she was all his to be positioned how he wished, restrained how he wished, fucked how he wished. Crazily enough, his bonds had given her freedom. His control gave her permission to surrender. And his adoration turned her into the one thing she’d never imagined: a fearless, dauntless gift to her bronze, beautiful lover. “Yes…please.”
Sam rewarded her for
the kittenish spin on the words, spreading an approving smile—and twisting his fingers deeper. As Jen answered with a fresh gasp, his lips parted with desire. “Perfection. That is what you are, sweet beauty. Look at how you glisten for me…feel how you tremble for me. Now I can smell how hot you are for me, too. So soft and luscious.”
She looked at him through her lashes. There was nothing coy about it; desire had weighted her eyes too heavily. “All of it’s for you. All of me is for you.” She offered the words without hesitation, knowing that in that moment, she meant them. Since all they had was this moment, what could the harm be? It was yet another realization that unlocked more doors inside, setting her senses free to float yet higher…and her desire to follow right on their heels.
“Those are wonderful words to hear, lass.” He tilted his head, seemingly fixated with the rhythm of his fingers, driving them higher, harder, deeper inside. “Since that’s exactly what I plan on taking.”
As her womb clenched tighter, she bit into her bottom lip. Perhaps the pain would hold back a fraction of the aroused flood down her channel. Massive fail. Sam’s grin, bold and wicked, told her so. The expression conflicted with the rest of his face, all ginger choir boy openness—though instead of a hymnal, he held her soaked, trembling arousal. Just a glance down there had her squirming and pleading with fresh abandon.
“Now.” She arched up, needing more. “Take it now then, Sam. I can’t hold on for much—”
Her own scream was her interruption, exploding as he withdrew from her core—before swiftly smacking her sensitive mound. She glared but was quelled by his new scrutiny, now stripped of the grin. “You’ll be holdin’ on as long as I tell you to. Is that clear?”
“Are you freaking—” She yelped as he spanked her once more. “Okay, okay. We’re clear. We’re clear!”
Just like that, he was a choir boy again. No. An angel. With the last of the day’s light spilling in behind his head, limning his hair in gold, he truly looked like a fallen seraph from the sky, dropped here to show her a new definition of heaven—
Especially as he rose up, unzipped his slacks, then freed his erection.
A stunned sigh spilled out of her.
He was…magnificent.
Mighty veins trailed the length of his stalk, pulsing so strongly that it bobbed a little. A hiss escaped him as he spread the milky drops from its tip down over the dark red flesh, which seemed stretched to capacity. Even the sacs at the base were taut yet full. Sam groaned as he wrapped his hand around them then squeezed, disciplining his own body now. Jen watched every inch of his movements in fascinated awe. He was so big, throbbing with such power…how was he ever going to fit all of that flesh inside of her? The conflict sent a frisson of fear down her spine. And even more arousal to her pussy.
No time for second thoughts.
Not as he opened the nightstand drawer, found a packet emblazoned with the telltale Trojan’s head along with the Nyte’s starry logo, and efficiently tore it open. Not as he slid the latex from inside it over the shaft that had become practically a flagpole between them. Not as he yanked it over that broad, beautiful cock, groaning as he got to the end, squeezing his balls again.
Certainly not as he leaned in, pushed her knees out with his own, and fitted his body into the apex of hers.
The bulb of his sex nudged the entrance of hers. Jen sucked in a harsh breath, waiting for the hot stretch of her intimate tissues.
He suddenly halted.
Pulled in a long breath of his own.
“If we’re going to stop, you must tell me now.” He inhaled again, raking a hand up until his fingers bracketed the chain connecting her cuffs. “The torture’s been cruel enough, stayin’ away this long.”
She almost laughed. Almost. Torture. The term fit. Every moment that went by—every damn millisecond—was another eternity in the wait they endured. The anticipation of the fire their bodies would finally spark together, give to each other…
“I don’t want to stop.”
His growl was so long and strong, she felt it to her toenails. “Thank God.”
Without saying anything else, he entered her.
Jen cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain. “Hell!” And he wasn’t even completely in. Damn. She’d been right. Fitting all of him inside all of her wasn’t going to be the one-plunge-ecstasy they showed on all the romantic cable TV shows.
Another thrust.
“Fuck!”
On the other hand, maybe it was.
In the aftermath of the word they yelled together, Sam rose high enough to stare at her again. Gone was the suitor who would’ve stopped at a peep of protest from her. He’d become something primitive, eyes like moonlight on a dagger blade, mouth parted hungrily, damned and determined to fuck her exactly like the saber tooth he’d just reminded her of.
And ohhhh, how he did.
Fully. Ferociously. Damn near fanatically. He was passionate—Jen could’ve predicted that just from watching him command jets across the desert—but this was beyond stomping on the throttle. This was heat and hunger and need, a beast sating its starvation, a conquering that didn’t just seduce her desire. It demanded the depths of her spirit, the fiber of her being. If he was the saber tooth and she his prey, she was eviscerated. Splayed for his desecration.
She never wanted it to end.
Her bondage only made the experience better. Not being able to touch him in return…she’d anticipated that it would be frustrating, and it was, but once she saw what relinquishing her power did for him, her body sizzled with brand-new awareness. She was open for him. Showing him everything. Giving him everything…
Reveling as he took it.
He laved her breasts and nipples with new licks and bites. Explored her flesh with eager hands, stroking every curve and crevice. Seared her senses as he finally inserted a hand between her legs, seeking the bundle of nerves that pulsed strongest for him.
Fucked her harder, as he stroked there.
“Sam!” She shuddered as he flicked her flesh, over and over and over.
“Yes, mo luaidh?”
“Oh…shit…that’s—that’s—”
“Just the kind of commentary I like.” There was a smile in his voice. She couldn’t see his face anymore, since her head was jacked back, grinding into the mattress. Crazy little stars danced in her vision.
“I—it’s—” So much. Too much. Please stop. Please don’t stop. “I don’t know if I can—”
“Of course you can. And you will.” He doubled his tempo. Her sex shivered. Her thighs trembled. “Take it, sweet Jenny. All of me…and all of you, too. Let it all in, darlin’. Let it take over.”
On the last of it, his voice rolled through a bed of glass. Hearing the fray of his resistance just disintegrated hers. Pressure pulled and growled, jerking like a wild animal on a tether, until she had no more lead rope left for it. Once it ran the rein taut, she’d break.
And she did.
Only the animal didn’t tear loose from her.
The animal became her.
A scream, high and feral, burst from her lips. Heat, wild and wonderful, invaded her pussy. She could think of nothing, react to nothing, but the orgasm that tore her apart and the man who’d given it to her. She locked her legs against Sam’s back, urging him deeper, needing as much of his cock as she could get, longing for him to follow her into the shimmering, shattering abyss.
“Please,” she heard herself panting. “Oh God, Sam. Please. I need you here. I need—”
“Ssshhh. I know, sweet one. I know.”
But he didn’t. If he had, he’d be pounding into her harder, instead of kneading the top of her mound in that strange way. Then fucking her at that strange new angle. Then grunting hard, as if fighting to dead lift five hundred pounds instead of—
“Oh!”
Instead of making her feel like…
What on earth…
“What the hell is—”
That?
Her sex
convulsed all over again. At least she thought it did. It was an orgasm, only better. Deeper. If she was an animal before, she was an alien life form now, gripped by sensations so new and wild, they pulled crazy, whining sounds from deep in her throat. Her hips couldn’t stop bucking. Her skin was electric…everywhere. And she was damn sure she’d never let Sam Mackenna pull his body out of hers after this—if she survived this.
“That’s my girl. That’s right. Let it happen.”
As if she had a choice. As if her trembling body—and his staggering skill—would let her consider a shutdown of this ecstasy. It moved through her like a tsunami, quiet but devastating, ripping her senses from their moorings, spinning her awareness into another galaxy. Screams tumbled from her, filled with thoughtless abandon and pure surrender, of I-don’t-give-a-damn-who-hears lust. It spurred Sam’s pace, doubling his thrusts. The slaps of their bodies were like erotic gunshots on the walls, dueling with passion and power, straining through every muscle in his body…through every inch of his cock.
“Jenny. Fuck!”
She didn’t recognize the third word that spilled out, something brutal and Gaelic and sexy, before he punched deep, clenched tight then moaned hard. His torso, encircled by her legs, coiled hard. His balls, flush against her ass, stiffened and pulsed.
His cock exploded deep inside her.
Her heart burst right along with it.
The knowledge that she could give this to him…that maybe, just maybe, he’d experienced a fraction of the bliss that she’d known…
Yeah. “Burst” was the best word for it.
She lay in pieces, uncaring about picking them all up. Not yet. Please not yet. For just a few moments more, she needed to let the fragments dance a little, basking in the heat and fire and miracle that was Sam Mackenna. A lover like she’d never known before. Would likely never know again…
“Hey.”
Sam’s anxious tone yanked her brain back to reality. Well, that was a start for getting her shit back together. “Huh? What?”
“You awrite?” His version of the expression, turning the last two words into one, never failed to melt her heart. “You’re not hurt anywhere, are you, mouse?” Not waiting for an answer, he unhitched the wrist cuffs then pulled out and rolled beside her. “Shit. I did hurt you. Where? How? Why didn’t you say—”