The husky voice and the promise that accompanied it sent Sari’s blood surging through her body at lightning speed. This man knew everything about her–her name, the title of her book, and possibly, her every guarded and sensual secret.
“Never!” she said, adamantly.
Sleep. She needed sleep. Maybe she’d awake in the morning and discover that her fears had been no more than a beaten nightmare.
Brady saw the slight tremble of her lips, the heaving of her chest, the flush of her cheeks. He had Sari exactly where he wanted her–scared and vulnerable. He was more convincing than he had hoped. His mother’s insistence in regard to drama class had obviously paid off.
Sari listened to the rustling of clothing, the footsteps fading, the door closing as he exited. How dare he think that he could bend her to his will to the point of surrender? He could kiss his sorry, arrogant ass. She would fight him tooth and nail before she would ask him to take her. Only Brady Thompson would have the power over her to bend her will.
Seconds later, Sari drifted to sleep with Brady Thompson’s name on her lips. It was a much better scenario to think about than the prospect of what was going to happen to her next.
CHAPTER THREE
Brady looked at his watch. It was half past eleven. It would be two o’clock before Sari would be fully awake and cognizant. He’d leave her sleep. He wanted her alert and aware of him, stimulated by of his every caress and kiss when he seduced her.
The image of her firm bottom peeking beneath her robe suddenly reminded him that his scheme was going to require a lot more reserve on his part than he had anticipated. He locked his fingers, extended his arms over his head and stretched. He needed a drink. Perhaps, several. Filling his glass with Cognac, he stepped onto the porch into the cool night air to clear his head.
He looked to the cloudless sky then stared into the dark forest. How many of Sari’s fantasies, he wondered, had she physically experienced? Some were descriptive, but others fell short when it came to describing how her body responded to the stimulation. He was precisely what Sari needed to fine tune her writing. One step at a time, he was going to pleasure her, bring her to arousal and awaken those stilled places that yearned, not only for the visual, but the thrill and excitement of each fantasy. How many of his own desires would he awaken, as well?
He sipped his drink and returned to the house.
~~~~~~~~~~
Sari’s head was clearing and trepidation was filling the void. She strained against the leather cuffs to no avail. The room was chilled. She shuddered and curled her legs, thankful that he hadn’t bound them.
The door creaked open and the footsteps moved past the bottom of the bed. She heard a snapping sound and flinched, then another, then the crinkle of paper. He was building a fire, she realized. Within minutes, the heat warmed her and swallowed the dampness.
He was standing beside the bed, looking down at her, she was certain of it. She could hear the slight hitch in his breathing, the faint odor of smoke on his clothing.
“It’s game time, Sari.”
Sari stiffened and swallowed the lump in her throat when his weight sank to the bottom of the bed. Instinctively, she strained against the cuffs, gasping when she felt his smooth palm tighten around her ankle and drew her leg away from her body. She bucked and kicked in protest, but his sheer strength held it in place.
Brady’s eyes followed the curve of her ankle to her knee then upward to the fine laced panties. Honey colored curls peeked out from the edges. It was a distraction he didn’t need.
His eyes returned to her ankle. He circled it with his lips and kissed it, nibbling on it like it was the bone of a spare rib. He trailed a line to her toes. They were tiny and dainty. Starting with the smallest, then moving to the last, he wrapped his lips around each of them, one then the other, drawing them into his mouth and slipping his tongue into the hollow between them.
Sari felt her fear give way to pleasure. This wasn’t part of the fantasy in the cabin, she recalled. He’d thrown a twist into it–a provocative, sensual twist.
When he reached the big toe, Brady sucked it deep into his mouth. He heard a muffled moan escape her lips, felt her arch her foot, saw the tightening of her calve. Smiling, he looked down the length of her to her face. Her lips were slightly parted, rosy and plump. He wanted to slip his tongue between them, to taste her mouth, but he refrained. He’d had enough distractions.
Instead, he lifted her ankle higher and trailed a line down her arch, breathing into it before nipping his way to her heel. His eyes never left her quivering lips as each new dash of air battled to escape her lungs.
He kissed the top of her foot, licking his tongue over each of her toes, working his way to her ankle. He heard her sharp intake of air, felt her jerk her leg. Still holding her ankle and tasting every inch of her flesh, he nibbled his way up her calve and slid his tongue along the hollow crease at the back of her knee.
Sari’s pulse quickened. Her breath panted. Tingles of sensation moved from the fire between her legs to the tip of her nipples, straining against her silk robe. She bit down on her lower lip. She needed a diversion or he was going to win her surrender.
She launched an attack with her free leg and kicked at his side, but his strong hand pinned her calve and his mouth continued in the direction of her thigh. She tried to quiet the tremor deep in her core, but to no avail when a sizzling rush coursed through her entire body. Each and every stroke of his tongue sent a stream of fire up her legs to the heated pool between them. This was not in her fantasy, but it sure as hell would be now, she vowed. If this was any indication of what he had intended for her over the next week, then her fantasies were going to be shabby by comparison.
She filled the empty image with one of Brady. It was his tongue working his magic, his hair falling over her leg and tickling her flesh, his mouth sending sparks deep inside of her. She trembled as his lips stopped only inches from her panties, then gulped a sharp intake of air when his tongue flicked over them.
“How does this make feel, Sari?”
His tantalizing, husky voice sobered her immediately. He was relishing in her ecstasy and loving every moment of it. How she hated him for it. She yanked back on her foot and tried to kick him again.
“You like it, don’t you?” He let go of her ankle. With a shrewd smile, he stood and gazed down at her. He felt the heated throb in his jeans and unbuttoned the snap, wondering which of them had been more aroused. He was a fool if he thought that he was immune to her.
Sari curled her foot, one alongside of the other, and slammed her thighs tight together. There was no way in hell that she was going to give into this brute. He was mocking her. He might as well have laughed in her face.
Brady dropped a log to the fire and sipped his Cognac. He needed a cold shower, but he wasn’t finished with her just yet. She was playing him, pretending that he hadn’t stirred the fire between her thighs when he knew damn well that he had. Her panties were creamed and it took every shred of his self-control not to rip them from her, to taste her.
She wasn’t going to make this easy. But be damned, if he wouldn’t play back if that’s what she wanted. He left the room, stopped at the bathroom to relieve his bladder then stepped out into the cool air.
Sari had written numerous fantasies. He had any one of them to choose from, but this one hadn’t been one of hers. It had been his. From day one, when Sari came into work wearing her open heels–her toes painted pale rose, he had wanted nothing more than to taste every inch of her: the curve of her arch; the tiny ankles; the hard lines of her slender calves; the crease of her knee to the hot liquid between her thighs. He had to stop there. He had to place some restrictions on the game until he knew what Sari’s perimeters were.
They were playing a dangerous game, he knew. Even with his acting skills, and his ability at roll playing, there were those fantasies that were going to be difficult to pull off. Sure, he’d taken drama in both high school and college, but acting ou
t a scene and physically hurting Sari were two different scenarios, and he wasn’t sure if he could rise to the challenge.
It was going to be a battle of wills and the outcome was going to be interesting, to say the least.
He poured another drink and returned to the bedroom.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sari suspected that he would return. It was just a matter of time. He was enjoying the game–the power that he wielded over her. But she could play the game just as well as anybody. She’d steel herself against every flick of his tongue, every seduction. There was no way that she was going to beg him to take her, to consent to his taking his every pleasure with her. That’s what he wanted–no guilt–and the freedom to take what he desired of her with no consequences.
It was going to be a long week, she realized, and she wasn’t sure if she could rise to the challenge. If he knew all of her fantasies, as she presumed he did, she had no doubt that he wouldn’t hesitate to explore each and every one of them. Her mind raced, frantically. Some of the fantasies in her novel were just that–fantasies–but others, especially Lana’s, were filled with whips, clamps and other sundry gadgets that had come from hard core experience. What if he thought that all of them were hers?
She bit her lip when she heard the door creak open.
Footsteps crossed the room with purpose. She felt him sliding across the bed, straddling her upper thighs and pinning her. Through the denim of his jeans, she felt his thick hard prick press against her heated flesh. Her breath caught in her throat. It was everything she had imagined–imagined of Brady. Her head suddenly swam. She had wanted Brady for so long and so desirously that everything reminded her of him. She pushed him out of her mind. If she didn’t, then she would succumb to her fantasies of Brady and surrender to this stranger.
Suddenly, long fingers wrapped around her throat and pressed her neck into the pillow, forcing the air from her lungs. She drew a sharp breath. When it hitched in her throat she lay perfectly still.
Her stomach lurched when his lips covered her mouth and his tongue plunged deep inside of her. The deeper his kiss–the tighter the pressure on her throat–she could barely breathe. She’d been holding her breath, she realized. Reality was far more frightening than the fantasy. He was scaring her now, and she wasn’t sure that she wanted to play anymore.
Brady leaned back and removed his hand from her throat. He looked down at her heaving chest, saw her staining for air and smiled. He had scared the hell out of her. That’s what she had wanted from this fantasy and he’d given it to her. It was exhilarating to hold that kind of power over someone, but just as terrifying to know that in a fleeting second he could have snatched her last breath from her.
He heard her gasp when he ripped open her robe and pulled it back against her shoulders, exposing her breasts. He stared down at them. She was already aroused. They were firm and full, and more beautiful than he had imagined. Sharp nubs rose from the center of the dark circles as a beacon signaling him to take them into his mouth.
There was more to the fantasy, and though he was willing to explore whatever erotic desires it took to please her, it was not going to be tonight, not now. Tonight, he was going to seduce her in his own way.
He bent over her and flicked his tongue over the peak of her nipple, circling it while his hand slid toward her panties. She closed her thighs, but the hitch of her throat and the heaving of her breasts betrayed her desire. He sat back on his heels and parted them. His fingers playfully danced over the silk panties. The flesh beneath was smooth, hot and damp.
He saw the slight arch of her pelvis, the strain of her wrists against the leather, the trembling of her abdomen. If he didn’t stop now he was going to ravish her.
Sari shuddered at his caress. She never imaged that a man could drive her over the edge with the mere use of his tongue and his fingers. It took every ounce of her reserve to not cry out when all she truly wanted was to feel his cock deep inside of her and to allow him to take her to heightened pleasure. But what he was doing to her was dead wrong and she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she wanted him.
Brady released a ragged sigh. He wasn’t going to take this further, not tonight. Covering her breasts with her robe, he rolled away from her and was nearly on his feet when Sari kicked out and caught him in the shin with her heel. He grabbed her calve and held it firmly against the bed and waited for her breathing to settle.
“You want more,” he taunted.
Leaning into her, he rolled his tongue from the hollow of her throat to the lobe of her ear, drawing it between his lips, and sucking on it.
Sari jerked on the restraints. He was driving her mad.
Through the thin fabric of her robe, Brady felt the swell of her breasts, her nipples peaking against his bare chest. He breathed warm air into her ear and whispered against it. “I know you want me, Sari. Just say it.”
When she didn’t respond, he cupped her right breast in his hands and tugged her lower lip into his mouth.
He pulled back with a start when she bit hard and drew blood. “You wanna play rough? You wanna be my bitch?” he hissed. “Well it’s game time, Sari, and the ball’s in my court.”
Sari listened to the grind of his footsteps as he stalked from the room. What had she done? If she had given him the impression that she wanted to play rough, that had never been her intention. There were fantasies that she had only imagined, but never truly experienced–there was a reason for that–they scared the hell out of her. How far would her captor go to fulfill them, she wondered?
Brady stomped to the porch, licked the blood from his lip and swore. So she wanted to play rough, after all. Well, he’d made a promise, and now he’d have to follow it through. If Sari wanted blood then he’d damn well give it her. He had dozens of her fantasies to choose from. It would be easier now–knowing what she desired, what she expected of him.
Sari didn’t sleep well. Her mind reeled with every tale that she had spun on paper. Many were sensual: licking; teasing; sucking; gentle kisses over every inch of her body, as he had done to her this evening. Yet, others were dark: biting; punishing; forceful and even painful. They were what the market demanded, but were they necessarily what she wanted?
Had he read them all?
A tremor ran through her entire body. Could she endure even one of them? Would she suffer through the pain or surrender to him? Wasn’t that what he wanted–her surrender? What if she did, would it bring closure to the game? She thought of the puzzling email. She had gone home after work and read it several times, memorizing each and every word of it. “I want YOU. I want you squirming and screaming for me to fuck you. I’m through with waiting–it’s game time, Sari. How far would he go to punish her now that she had angered him?
If she gave in to him what would he do with her, would he set her free? It was unlikely.
She had to escape. She tugged on the leather, but there was no give. Tears welled in her eyes. She was going to be his bitch, whether she liked it or not.
An hour later, her bladder was crying for release. This was her chance, she thought, her chance to get away.
Brady heard her calling out to him. He sipped his brandy and ignored her. The third cry sounded urgent. He headed for the bedroom with purpose, stopping at the foot of the bed. He stared down at her, realizing that he was still angry. Not so much because she had bitten him, but because he was going to have to dive head first into her erotic world, into places that he was not comfortable with, and he wasn’t sure how deep he could plunge without hitting bottom. When he brought her to the cabin, he had only intended to seduce her in the sweetest ways possible. She was the one who made the decision to play rough.
Sari knew that he was standing there, but he said nothing. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she blurted.
Brady moved to the dresser and pick up the rope that he had used when he captured her. He stood staring down at her, rolling it between his thumb and his palm. When he plotted his sche
me, he hadn’t considered that she would have to relieve herself.
Moments passed before Sari felt the bed sink beside her. Relief washed over her when he freed her wrist, but she hadn’t expected him to flip her onto her stomach and straddle her before unfastening the second shackle. He tugged one arm, then the other, behind her. She felt the jerk of the rope and knew that he was still angry with her. Taking her by the arm, he hauled her from the bed and shoved her into a walk. The bedroom door opened. After five steps, she heard the second door creak and he was pushing her through the doorway.
Sari expected him to untie her, but he didn’t. Shock rippled through her when he roughly yanked on her panties and shoved them passed her knees. An instant later, she was being pushed down to the toilet seat.
She heard the sound of running water. Barely, had she finished peeing when he lifted her to her feet and swiped a warm cloth against her crotch, from front to back. How humiliating, she thought. Then she was caught between laughter and tears. How was this anymore demeaning than what he’d already done to her.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sari resigned to the bed. She was exhausted, both mentally and physically. She was grateful, however, that her captor had cuffed both of her hands together, and to the same post, allowing her to sleep on her side. The only disadvantage was that he had restrained her left leg, as well, so that she couldn’t scoot to the top of the bed and remove her blindfold.
She had no sense of time, living in this dark world where every scent and sound was sharpened, heightened. She listened to her breathing. It was finally returning to a slow, steady rhythm.
It seemed like hours before she drifted to sleep, and even then, it wasn’t a restful sleep. Dreams of bliss gave way to torture, and it was Brady performing them. She awoke, trembling. The fog cleared from her mind and she suddenly realized that sometime during the wee hours of the morning, her capture had covered her with a soft, down quilt.
Take Me Now (Take Me Series) Page 2