Beg for Me

by Natalie Anderson

  When he lifted away his eyes were bright with passion. With determination. He’d never looked so beautiful.

  And she’d never felt so silenced.

  She was utterly wordless when he looked at her like that.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  #AllYouEverWanted

  He took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. The room was Logan-warm. The bed was already made with the covers pulled back, exposing white sheets. It had a wooden frame. Perfect to tether restraints to. Min swallowed, heat building inside her again. And nerves.

  “Logan—”

  “Shhh.” He tugged her to him. “Let me undress you.”

  She kicked off her shoes, then he pulled her shirt over her head. Tenderly he unclasped her bra, pausing to kiss the flesh he’d exposed. He unfastened her jeans, then fell to his knees to slide them down her legs and off.

  They’d had plenty of sex already, but this felt different. Somehow she felt more naked. She needed him to be too.

  She reached for him, wanting to strip him. She swept her hands over his chest, smoothing a path over the ridges of his rock-hard abs, curled her fingers round the hem of his tee.

  But he caught her hands. “I’m going to restrain you,” he muttered roughly. “It’s the only way.” He looked into her eyes. “You’ll let me?”

  Would she let him do anything? She drew in a deep breath.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He picked her up, showing off his damn athletic skills, carried her to the bed and placed her in the very center. Before she could move, he knelt on the bed and straddled her.

  Turned out the guy had silk cords in his pockets as well as that ball gag.

  He kissed her, then took her hand. He kissed the pulse hammering on the inside of her wrist. Then he wound the soft tie around it, then bound her to the bed end. Slowly, deliberately, he took her other wrist and tethered that too so her arms were spread. He tested the tension.

  “Not too tight?”

  She shook her head.

  All she wore now were her white panties. He didn’t take them off. He kissed her, touched her, running his hands the length of her legs, curving up and spreading to shape her hips, to span her ribcage, to cup her breasts. With every stroke it was like he set small flames alight, every inch of her skin heated.

  Until he sat beside her, leaning over her and kissed her.

  To her immense irritation he was still fully clothed, but there was something erotic about her being naked, while feeling the roughness of his clothing against her bared breasts. About being at his mercy.

  Sweet mercy.

  Because he kissed her, teased her, roused her again. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, invading her, deeply caressing until she felt dizzy. Until she felt almost unbearably open to him.

  Close to him.

  “I’m going to fuck you until you forget everything but me,” he told her. “Over and over until you can’t think anymore, until you can only feel. Until you can’t control a single part of your body.”

  Her panties were saturated. She wanted this. But there was a part of her afraid. If she gave him this… if she let him…

  He kissed her again. Hard. “I won’t settle for anything less than absolute surrender. Give in to it, Min.” He looked deep into her eyes. “To me.”

  “And what d-d-do I get from you?” she whispered.

  “This time? Absolute control,” he said simply. “I’ll stay in control. Because I’m here to please you.”

  “I don’t want you to stay in control.” She blinked back the sudden tears of frustration. “I want you to have a good time too. I don’t want this to be so one-sided. I thought we’d moved on from that.” That she had.

  He closed his eyes for a moment. “I do have a good time. Nothing is as awesome as seeing you sated, Min. I want to hear it too. I want you utterly freed.”

  She just didn’t know if she could do that. That last hint of self-consciousness? It had been with her, her whole life. Always aware of how she sounded. Of what others might think.

  “You hurt yourself when you try to hold back,” he said roughly. “You don’t need to do that with me. You don’t ever have to do that with me.”

  He met her gaze—her eyes wide and watering, his focused and determined. Her breathing quickened.

  “Just let me.” He kissed her, passionate, hungry. Kissed her until she sighed inside. Falling deep into that sensual delight. Only then it wasn’t his tongue in her mouth, it was something cold and rubbery tasting and it didn’t fit all the way in her mouth, but forced her jaw open. His fingers worked quickly at the back of her head, fastening the strap.

  Experimentally she bit on the ball, it was soft and it wasn’t too big, but not small enough for her to choke on.

  “No drooling,” he winked, carefully tying a slim white length of silk over the ball gag. “For your peace of mind. And you can breathe okay?” he asked.

  She nodded. He was so full of care, it made her ache.

  “I am having your hair loose, though,” he commented. “I want to touch it.”

  He loosened the rest of her braid, spreading her hair over her shoulders, taking a moment to wind it around his wrists and tugging gently before unwinding it again. Playing, admiring, stroking it back from her face to kiss her.

  She’d have smiled at him if she could. He did have his fetishes. And they made her feel good. Treasured. He stilled and leaned over her.

  “So, my silent one.” He looked far too pleased for his own good. “Now we can play.”

  Like he hadn’t been already?

  Apparently not. Because he started all over again. Not just his hands massaging this time, but following through with his mouth, his tongue. His teeth.

  “You taste so good,” he murmured.

  She wanted him to taste her everywhere. Not just her neck and breasts and legs, but right there, in the very center of her.

  But he seemed determined to bypass the area for now. Her hips lifted, she wanted him to strip her completely. Just to take her. She was that hot already.

  “We’re not doing this fast,” he said lazily. “So you can just relax.”

  Relax? Impossible.

  She was too turned on. Too close.

  He teased her, pressing his fingers against the white cotton of her panties. Bending over her, he looked up into her eyes, his smile wicked.

  She bit down on the soft ball. Shaking her head, her teeth grinding into the silicone. Oh no, he wasn’t doing that to her again. He wasn’t making her come without even touching her skin to skin.

  “You want me to touch you?”

  Of course she freaking well did.

  His fingers stroked. His mouth, burned, even through that cotton. Damn, it wasn’t enough. And she couldn’t tell him.

  “Want me to take these off?” He fingered the leg band of her panties.

  She whimpered, there was no other word for it.

  He moved swiftly, straddling her, lifting his hands to cup her breasts again, to kiss them like he too couldn’t hold back. He cupped them, traced them, kissed them.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, rubbing his jaw against her softness. “I love it when you don’t wear a bra and I can see the outline of your nipples. They get so hard for me.”

  Touch. She needed his touch everywhere. So needy.

  He moved. Breathless, she stilled as slowly he peeled her panties down. She didn’t want him to stop, never wanted him to stop.

  As soon as they were clear of her ankles, she spread her legs wide, digging her heels into the mattress to arch her hips, thrusting her sex towards him. Trying to tempt him the only way she could.

  He sat back and looked down the length of her. She saw the wildness ignite in his eyes. He suddenly lunged, dropping down full length, grinding against her for a moment of sheer, raw bliss.

  She hated that he wasn’t naked. Yet it was so erotic, so hot, as for a torturously few moments he thrust his hips against her. She could feel his ha
rdness under the rough denim.

  She wanted to be able to growl. To yell at him in frustration. Tell him to get naked, now. She worked her jaw on the damn bouncy ball thing.

  He met her eyes. He knew what she was thinking. But he said nothing.

  He slowly lifted away, kneeling back to bend to her. She lifted her head, watched as he kissed the slightly reddened skin of her inner thighs.

  So close. So gentle. So slow.

  Finally his tongue teased inside her. Tickling. Not hard enough. Not fast enough.

  She watched him through heavy lids. Never had she had a man so focused only on her. On pleasuring her. Yet he was deliberately holding back—giving her almost exactly what she wanted.

  And he wasn’t going to give in, until she did.

  She arched again. He responded.

  Still not enough.

  She’d cry if she wasn’t getting so pissed off.

  Suddenly something unfurled within her. Not just lust, not just anger. Something animal. She growled, a low sound of frustration deep in her throat.

  “Yeah?” He touched her deeper, faster.

  Exactly what she wanted.

  Her sigh of relief sounded.

  That’s when she finally got it. Being gagged like this, there could be no speech. Only sound. Groans, moans, grunts.

  As animal as she liked.

  “Yeah,” he murmured. He pressed his palms on her upper thighs, holding her wide open, to take his tongue.

  It was all she needed. She arched up, her body taut. So strung out. So on the edge. So close to coming. And she wanted to. Bad.

  But he stopped. The bastard stopped.

  “More?”

  She moaned. Breathing hard.

  “More?” he repeated.

  She growled.

  “Okay,” he smiled. “Just a little.”

  A little wasn’t going to cut it.

  But the jerk did only that. He chuckled as oh-so-damn-lightly he tongued her. The slightest little flickers over her clit. Pure torture.

  She writhed, shaking her head from side to side. She wanted to feel him slamming inside her, filling her, fucking her.

  Hard.

  “Loud as you like, babe. No restraint.”

  No restraint? She was freaking tied up. And she was furious with him now, barely realized she was growling at him.

  And he was so damned smug. She arched up, tugging at the silken cords that held her arms spread.

  His actions intensified. He spread wide, braced above her, kissing her so intimately, she was too hot to blush.

  She growled again, so needy she was nearly insane. Sweat dampened her. She bucked her hips until he had to hold her thighs harder so he could keep sucking on her. His rhythm picked up, then steadied. Nothing short of absolute torture. She couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” she screamed.

  Only it was unintelligible.

  Or maybe it wasn’t. Because the amused look left his face, lines of concentration furrowed his brow. Color mounted in his cheeks.

  “More,” he muttered. “I want more.”

  He used his fingers. She felt them, one flickering. Then more. Filling her, twisting pumping, pressing against her sensitive muscles. And suddenly she wanted more too—to let it all out. Say what she wanted. Anything. Everything.

  “Logan. Logan.” In her head she yelled for him, who knew how it sounded. Who cared. She no longer did.

  Because he was responding, there for her. Just as he’d promised.

  She moaned, loud and unstoppable. Unable to hold it back, as delight began to crash into her.

  He massaged her breast as she teetered on the brink, taut as a bow string. But it was his words that got to her as well.

  “So beautiful, Min, so soft, so warm.” He rubbed her nipple with his thumb, while she clenched on the fingers he’d buried deep inside her. “So strong.” He groaned. “Squeeze on me babe. Let me feel you.”

  She arched, feeling his caresses inside and outside, the passion with which he kissed her body. His total attention.

  “Min,” he muttered, and thumbed her clit as he pumped his fingers. “Just as you are, babe. I’ll take you just as you are.”

  She screamed against the ball, biting into it, bucking upwards again and again as the waves of pleasure coursed through her. The orgasm shredded her. But he worked to prolong it. Not letting her draw her legs up to pull back.

  Not until she whimpered, the intensity too much, her skin too sensitive, her soul too exposed.

  But even as she hit that point of feeling pushed too far, the relief and the joy flooded in. Pure pleasure buzzed round her body, blanking her mind.

  She felt so fantastic. So exhausted.

  So touched.

  He lay, resting his head on her belly, gently stroking her skin, not letting her feel any chill, not leaving her alone in any way as the last of the tremors moved her.

  Until her breathing settled and her last moans ceased. Until she rested utterly lax.

  “You still want me?” He lifted his head to catch her attention, and asked.

  So much. She moaned. Tears springing to her eyes again.

  He leapt off the bed, practically shredding his clothes in his haste to get naked, get sheathed, get back to the bed.

  She watched, her pulse firing as she absorbed his speed and saw his arousal—the flush in his cheeks, the tension in his muscles. He was magnificent, so hard, bullets would bounce off him.

  She circled her hips, feeling energy pulse within her.

  “Everything. Now. Please,” she begged him, her plea muffled.

  But he didn’t just mount and rut her in the animal, furious way she wanted. No. Tense, driven as he was, he still took his sweet, torturous time.

  “Please,” she begged.

  He positioned over her body at long freaking last. This was what she needed. Him—all over her, in her, pushing her. Holding her.

  “There’s nothing I like more than this, Min,” he muttered. “Getting inside you? Feeling you so wet and restless? The way you rub against me?” He thrust into her. “So fucking hot.”

  She groaned as he filled her. That’s what she’d wanted. Him on her, in her. Filling her the way only he could.

  Too much.

  She groaned again, feeling the contrary freedom of the gag and the ties. Feeling her exposed breasts bounce as he thrust harder, pushing her deep into the mattress. Arms bound, legs spread, she was his to tease. To do with as he pleased. To take.

  Yet all he did was give.

  He kissed all over her face, her neck, rolling his hips against her, changing the angle to hit where she’d be most aroused. He swept his hands over her, touching her in the places he knew she was ultra sensitive. And he talked, telling her how beautiful she was, how she turned him on, what he wanted to do.

  Until Min couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t hold back. Eyes closing, she arched, her mouth lax, no longer needing to bite the ball.

  Because she was crying out. Crying for him in a long, high-pitched scream of ecstasy.

  She hardly heard herself in her lust-fueled delirium. All she knew was that she wanted this, wanted him. Wanted it all. And that’s when he gave it to her.

  His arm tightened around her, he gripped her hair, his words rushing into her ear as he thrust over and over. Wild and powerful and wet and free.

  “That’s it Min,” he choked. “Min, oh Min.”

  Min lay on the bed, wrapped up in the coverings, unable to move. He’d long since untied her, taken away the gag, had cuddled her... But her mind had been so blown, it took forever before she could pull herself together in any way.

  And now? Now there was no stopping her.

  She sat up as Logan walked naked into the room carrying a glass of water for her.

  “I want you to gag me again,” she said.

  His smile flashed and he carefully placed the water on the table, went to pick up the gag.

  “N-n-not with that.�
�� Min threw back the bedclothes and stood, locking her knees to stop them from wobbling. “With your cock. Keep it there ‘til you’ve come.” She knelt before him. “Ram it into me.”

  Yeah, she’d been having a great time talking dirty with that gag stuffed in her mouth, now she wanted to say it all for real.

  He was already erect, but she saw his whole body jerk to greater attention.

  “Min?” His eyes widened. This time he was the one barely able to speak. He spoke hoarsely, hardly breathing. And he didn’t sound delighted.

  Did he think he was going to defile her or something? She didn’t mind being on her knees for him. He’d knelt before her many times. Fair was fair. She didn’t want to be on any kind of pedestal.

  Because this was just lust. And she was so going to remember that.

  And truth? She wanted this. Her mouth watered, her skin heated. Arousal made her ache. She wanted him all the ways she could get him.

  “You chicken?” she dared, tilting her head back to see all the way up to his rigid face. “Worried you’re not g-g-going to last long?”

  She saw his quick smile. “You challenging me?”

  “Of c-c-course,” she admitted. “I know you can’t resist a challenge.”

  He breathed out again. “You can... just for a minute.”

  “That’s all it’s going to take?” she teased.

  She heard his laugh but didn’t wait for an answer. She stroked his skin—he was so perfectly formed. Long, beautifully proportioned muscles, golden tanned heated skin. He tensed, but she wasn’t anywhere near done.

  Before he stepped away, she locked her hands together around his butt—like a belt that he couldn’t escape—and took him in deep.

  “Min, you’re going to suffocate,” he twisted his fingers in her hair and tugged, trying to pull her away. But she wouldn’t release him.

  Braggart.

  She chuckled, and in doing so she relaxed, took him a half-inch deeper.

  “Jeez.” His breath hissed, his butt clenched. “Min.”

  She rolled her tongue around him as best she could. His breath hissed again. Then he eased a fraction, accepting it, welcome her touch.