Be Mine

by N. J. Young

  He shifted so he could look down at her, and she tilted her head up to meet his eyes. She had a loopy smile on her face, and he felt his lips tip up in response. Yes, she’d enjoyed her spanking.

  Her tongue ran across her lips, making his cock twitch. “Should we go to the bedroom … Sir?”

  Damn, did she have any idea what that one simple word did for him? And the way she said it in that breathy little voice made him want to throw her down and fuck her senseless.

  Dylan moved his hand from where it cradled her hip and slid it between her thighs. She opened them instinctively to allow him access, and when his fingers slid over her slick folds, her eyes widened. When he stroked one finger over the hard nub of her clit, she bit her lip, and he heard a little sound come from the back of her throat.

  “I don’t think the bedroom is really necessary, do you, sweetheart? Besides, from what you said earlier, you have too many male visitors in there. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that I need to pay you back for that little remark.” He stroked a finger slowly around her clit as he spoke, enjoying how her legs were beginning to quiver.

  “But—but you spanked me already,” she protested. “I’m pretty sure you’re making up rules as you go along.”

  He pinched her clit to stifle any further response.

  “Ohmigod.” Her arm went around his neck, her hand clenching spasmodically at his hair. She was close. Dylan leaned down to let his lips play at her mouth. She tugged his hair, pulling him closer, opening for him so his tongue could thrust inside. He’d gone back to lightly circling her clit, not giving her enough pressure to come, and her hips began thrusting up involuntarily, seeking release.

  She was so sweetly submissive, but she wasn’t afraid to spit fire back at him either. His heart tumbled, and he knew he was falling fast. And right now he wanted nothing more than to watch her come. He watched her face as he slid a finger inside her pussy. He could feel her little pants on his neck as her breathing sped up. Thrusting his finger in and out, he watched her face. When she buried her face against his chest, he stopped moving, causing a little whine to escape from Carly.

  “I want you to look at me, sweetheart. I want to see your face when you come for me.”

  Her whole body trembled, and her pussy clamped down on his finger at his words. Fuck, she was tight. He could only imagine how she would feel around his cock. She leaned back enough to look at him, and he added a second finger, sliding in and out faster, her body adding more lubrication to allow him in. She tensed, her eyes locked on his. “Dylan,” she breathed. “Please.”

  He knew what she wanted. His thrusting continued, as his thumb pressed firmly on her clit, rubbing gently over the surface. Carly’s whole body went rigid for a moment, and then her orgasm slammed into her. Fingernails dug into his neck as she held on, and he welcomed the pain. “Oh, Dylan!” His name was all he could make out. The rest of her words were a garbled scream as her body shook. Her pussy flooded, all that sweet cream flowing over his hand as he continued to rub her clit firmly, prolonging her orgasm as her hips bucked violently against his hand.

  As her orgasm began to subside, he lowered his head to catch the last of her whimpers in his mouth, swallowing her soft cries. He’d never seen a woman look more beautiful when she came. And he was pretty damn certain no one had ever tasted as good as Carly.

  Chapter Ten

  Her pussy clenched rhythmically around his slowing fingers. Wow. Now she knew what all the fuss was about. She had never had an orgasm with a man before, and her measly little vibrator had never brought her pleasure that was even in the same realm as what she’d just felt with Dylan.

  She wrapped her arms around him tighter as he kissed her. His lips were strong and softly demanding. When she shifted in his lap, she could feel his cock pulsing against her ass, and he let out a low groan. She wanted him so much. He nipped at her lower lip, the little bite sending a jolt through her. She’d thought she was satisfied, but the feel of him, the taste of him… She could feel herself growing more aroused, and she wondered if she’d ever get enough of Dylan Price.

  He leaned back to look at her. “I want you, Carly. I’ve never wanted anyone this much.”

  She felt a little smile curve her lips. “I want you, too, Sir.” She started to rise off his lap, and took his hand so she could lead him upstairs to her bedroom.

  “Whoa, baby, where are you going?”

  She furrowed her brow. “Upstairs. I thought you wanted to … I mean, I thought we were going to … you know.”

  He smirked. “No, I don’t know. Tell me. What is it we’re going to do?”

  Her eyes slid away from his, and she could feel herself blushing. Damn it, for all the gumption she had, she’d never been good at talking about this kind of thing.

  “You know,” she said again. “Sex.”

  Dylan’s finger was under her chin, tilting her face back up. “This is going to be much more than sex, Carls. I want to fuck you so hard that you’re going to have trouble walking tomorrow. I want you wrapped around me, screaming with another orgasm.”

  Her mouth had gone dry. She was mesmerized with him.

  “Is that what you want, too?” he asked when she didn’t respond.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He raised one eyebrow.

  “Sir,” she added in a rush. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” He began unbuttoning her blouse, revealing her black satiny bra. “Mmm.”

  She couldn’t help but smile at Dylan’s appreciative sound. Pleasing him suddenly seemed like the most important thing in the world to her.

  His eyes moved from her and glanced to her left. “Do you know what I love about Valentine’s Day?”

  She shook her head. “No, Sir.”

  He didn’t answer her for a moment, instead sliding her blouse off until it was free of her arms. “The accessories,” he finally said.

  Carly’s brow furrowed as she watched Dylan grab her red scarf off the other dining room chair. His plan didn’t register until he stood behind her. He gently took her wrists in his hand and wound the scarf around them so her hands rested at her lower back.

  He was tying her up! Oh, holy hell! “Dylan…” Carly tugged at her wrists. He hadn’t tied the scarf tight, but it was snug enough that she definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

  When he seemed satisfied with his work, he moved to stand in front of her. “You okay?”

  She thought for a moment. Nervous, yes. Turned on, absolutely. Okay? Okay described how she been most of her adult life—just okay. Right now, she was wonderful and tingly and alive. She was way more than okay. Instead of trying to pack her barrage of emotion into a few words, she just smiled sweetly at Dylan. “Yes, Sir.” She couldn’t wait to see what he had in store for her next.

  When he stepped back from her and whipped his shirt off without unbuttoning it, Carly thought she’d died and gone to heaven. He had the most beautiful physique she’d ever seen on a man before. Not that she’d seen a lot of naked men, but it didn’t matter … no way in hell could they be as beautiful as Dylan Price.

  His muscles bulged in all the right places, almost as if his skin were too tight for his own body. And his abs looked like they were chiseled out of stone. Yep, there was no way around it. This man was a work of art.

  When her eyes traveled lower to the noticeable bulge in his jeans—the bulge she’d felt against her very center—Carly felt herself start to throb.

  She watched as Dylan deftly undid the buttons on his jeans. In one quick movement, he shoved his jeans and underwear off his legs, stepping out of his shoes in the process. He stood in front of her naked, and Carly was fascinated by this god of a man before her. She’d been right. He was muscular everywhere. His perfectly ripped torso tapered down into well-defined hips. And his cock—Carly had the sense at that point to close her mouth since it had popped open—his cock was magnificent. It was long and thick, and jutted out straight toward her.

  His muscles rippled
when he stepped toward her, and her immediate reaction was to lift her hands to touch him, but a quick jerk of her wrists reminded her he’d restrained them. The thought of Dylan doing whatever he wanted to her made her feel as though the core of her body had completely melted, pooling at her center. It would be a wonder if her weeping pussy didn’t drip down her legs, she was so turned on.

  “Carls, I’ve never met a woman who looked at me like you do.”

  His husky words snapped her out of her trance, and she pulled her gaze away from his cock and back to his face. He stepped even closer, and when he spoke, she could feel his warm breath brush against her skin. “I love the way you look at me. The way those blue eyes worship my body. Jesus, baby, I think I could come just from you looking at me.” Dylan’s eyes were darker, smoldering, as if there was a heat inside him equal to what she was feeling.

  “I … I want to touch you,” she said, tugging at her arms again.

  He quirked a brow at her, the corners of his mouth tipping up in a little grin. “You will, baby, but first, I want you to trust me to know what you need. Let me show you how I can worship your body, Carly. Can you do that?”

  Worship her body? Oh, holy hell! “Yes,” she squeaked, hoping her voice didn’t sound as flustered as she felt.

  When Dylan lifted his hand to stroke her face with the tip of his finger, she had to bite her lip to stifle a groan. It was as though the sensitivity of her entire body was intensified by a million. Every touch, every breath, sent a wave of electric pleasure coursing through her.

  When Dylan unhooked the front clasp of her bra, she felt the cool air as her breasts spilled free. She enjoyed the way his breath caught as he slid his hands up her body to cup her breasts. Her hard nipples tightened even further as his thumbs stroked over them. Carly heard moaning and soon realized it was coming from her.

  When Dylan wrapped one arm around her waist and bent his head to suck a pebbled nipple into his mouth, her entire body weakened. She was grateful for his strength. If he hadn’t been holding her up, she had no doubt she would collapse before him.

  His tongue traced the outline of a nipple, flicking over the tip before moving to the next breast. His strong sucking made her squirm, but when she felt the soft bite of his teeth, her body trembled.

  “Dylan, please.” She tugged again at her wrists. Her senses were so confused. She wanted so desperately to touch him, yet every tug at the restraints on her wrists turned her on even more.

  Without a word, Dylan raised his head to capture her mouth. There was no gentleness in his kiss, no hesitation. He plundered her mouth as though she were his property. He owned her pleasure, and he was taking what was his.

  When he finally pulled away, he reached for the jeans he’d tossed on the floor. He quickly pulled out a condom from his wallet.

  “Wait. Here?” she asked. “Don’t you want to go to the bedroom?”

  He sat down, his cock jutting straight up, nearly reaching his navel. “No, Carls. I can’t wait one more second.”

  He quickly sheathed himself, then reached out to pull her to him. If her hands hadn’t been secured behind her back, she would have removed the short skirt she wore, but when Dylan turned his eyes on her, she got the feeling that undressing her was something he wanted to do.

  He reached around her, his hands trailing down her arms, making her shiver. For a moment, she thought he might untie the scarf and set her hands free, but he only reached down to unzip her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. She stepped out of it, and let him lead her to him, thankful for his support in guiding her because she was certain she wouldn’t have been able to keep her balance by herself.

  She was grateful for his hands steadying her as she straddled his hips. Her pussy pulsed in a wanton beat, begging for him. If it were up to her, she’d sink down and take him to the root, but his strong hands guided her, controlling her movements. When she felt the blunt head of his cock at her opening, her head fell back in pleasure, and she tried to sink down.

  “Slow, Carly. I don’t want to hurt you.” His thick voice was full of command. When the head of his cock slid inside her entrance, they both groaned. He was so big. She clenched immediately around him, her whole body trembling.

  “You’re so fucking tight, Carly. My God, your pussy feels like a vise.” He inched her down little by little, his jaw rigid, the vein in his neck pulsing in an effort to maintain control.

  When she’d finally taken him all the way, she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his full mouth. His tongue mingled with hers, exploring her mouth as his hand moved from her hip to tug at her hair, making her gasp. Her scalp tingled, the sparks shooting through her like fireworks. Dylan seemed to know exactly what she needed.

  He kissed along her jaw, holding her immobile. His mouth moved to hover over her ear as his nose nuzzled in her hair. “You smell like heaven,” he breathed.

  When his tongue snaked out to lick her earlobe, she shivered. He was driving her crazy.

  “Dylan, please,” she begged.

  His hand tightened briefly on her hip, before he let go, and she heard a swoosh. The crack of his hand against her ass echoed in the kitchen, and left her breathless. He groaned. “Fuck, you tighten up so nicely around me when I do that, but do you know the reason I did it?”

  He pulled back enough to look at her, one hand still tangled in her hair. His eyes rested on her mouth, as her tongue swiped over her lips. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

  “Good girl.” He leaned in to devour her mouth, greedy and desperate. She felt his cock flex inside of her, and her hips involuntarily thrust against him, trying to rise up. She was losing control fast, and so was he.

  When he lifted his mouth from hers, he searched her face, “Tell me, Carly. Tell me what you want.”

  She’d never been one to talk explicitly, but something in Dylan’s face made her want to give everything she had to him. If he wanted her to ask for what she wanted, then she would tell him. “I want you to fuck me, Sir.”

  His eyes flared. That seemed to be exactly what he needed. He lifted her hips up, and she felt so empty as he pulled out of her, but then he jerked her back down again, filling her up in one deep thrust until she cried out.

  Dylan pulled her close, murmuring to her, telling her how beautiful she was, as they began a steady rhythm, working together for the ultimate pleasure. Their thrusts went from long and deep to short and jerky, their dance speeding up as they inched closer and closer to the edge. Just as she felt herself rising to that summit, Dylan reached behind her to untie her wrists, the red scarf falling to the floor.

  Carly immediately placed her hands on his strong shoulders, which were damp with a fine sheen of sweat. She leaned forward circling her arms around him, gaining better leverage as she thrust against him. Her eyes widened as every thrust ground her clit against his pelvic bone.

  Even though his face was tense with controlled pleasure, Dylan’s lips twitched up at her response. “Come for me, Carly.” She thrust again, grinding against him. “Oh fuck, baby,” he groaned. “Please. Please come now for me.” He gripped her hips as he moved her faster and faster, his fingers digging into her flesh as both of their bodies tensed. With one final thrust, the sparks inside of Carly erupted, and she screamed Dylan’s name as her body flew into that sweet abyss, Dylan’s shouts of pleasure signifying that he’d jumped off that cliff with her.

  Chapter Eleven

  The aroma of coffee permeated through Dylan’s awareness, bringing him to full consciousness. He immediately reached next to him for Carly, but only found an empty bed. He was torn. Part of him wanted to get up and follow the heavenly scent of coffee, but the other part of him wanted Carly to come back to bed so they could pick up where they’d left off.

  His cock was quickly springing to attention. Yeah, it was easy to see which part of him was going to win this argument.

  As he slid out of bed and pulled on his jeans, he thought about the night before. After their mind-blowing sex in the ki
tchen, he and Carly had barely made it to her bedroom before Dylan was on her again. He couldn’t get enough of her. They’d made love two more times last night, and if he had his way, he’d drag her back in here, and that was how they’d spend the rest of the day.

  The sound of humming wafted over him before he even made it to the kitchen, and he grinned as he recognized the off-key tune of “I Melt With You”. When he made it around the corner, he leaned against the doorjamb as he admired Carly’s legs. She wore nothing but his gray shirt, which looked a hell of a lot better on her. Batgirl was a darker shade of gray and had herself curved around the back of Carly’s neck, forming a feline boa. The cat looked quite content, her tail swaying lazily as Carly cracked eggs into a skillet.

  Cupid, the little Chihuahua puppy, danced around her feet, yipping periodically in a demand for bacon. Carly broke off a piece and turned to hand it to the little pup, gasping in surprise when she spotted Dylan in the doorway. “How long have you been standing there?” Her cheeks flushed as he stepped closer.

  If a cat could roll its eyes, Dylan would swear that’s the look Batgirl gave him before she leapt off of Carly’s shoulder. He leaned in to cup Carly’s face, dropping a slow kiss on her lips as he grasped her hip.

  “Mmmm…” She pressed herself to him, her breath catching as she obviously felt his noticeable erection.

  It didn’t matter that he’d had her three times the night before, his cock was straining as if he hadn’t had sex in ages. “Why don’t you come back to bed, sweetheart?”

  She leaned in to press her lips to his bare chest, making him groan. “Because I’m making you breakfast.” Her tongue traced along his collarbone. “Sir,” she added in a breathy voice before stepping back to the stove.

  She was trying to kill him. Could you die from sexual frustration?