His brows lifted. “You want me to choose. You want to be bossed around.”
She nodded, almost having to lip-read over the pounding of her heart.
“Come on. We’re going swimming.” He grabbed their towels and walked back to the river.
Placidly, she trailed behind. Somehow letting him make the decision about swimming naked came with less guilt and nerves than if she’d been the one to choose. She knew she could still refuse and he would respect that, but deep down inside, she didn’t want to.
He stopped on the bank and put down the towels, then stripped off his T-shirt, revealing the chest she couldn’t help but drool over when she’d seen him in bed this morning. Had that only been this morning? It felt like they’d known each other for weeks already. She tried not to look, but the sculpted musculature and the plethora of tattoos made it hard not to gawk. And the nipple rings. Who knew she had a thing for guys with nipple piercings?
Her ex, Davin, had a sexy build, and so did Jason, who kept trying to pick her up at parties. Compared to Luke, though, they were fresh-faced babies. It wasn’t just that Luke was probably five years older, but she could tell he’d lived life, adventured, worked, rather than having been coddled and catered to.
And then there was the constant aura of danger he projected. Nobody in her social circle had ever looked at her like they wanted to eat her alive and make her like it.
“Hello?” He waved his hand in front of her eyes and she realized she’d been staring at the muscles of his stomach where they dipped down into his jeans.
“Hi.” She felt her face get hot and looked away, over to the far side of the river, at some trees that weren’t a half-naked man.
“Take off your shirt, Ophelia.”
“Do I have to?”
He paused. “Unless you want to safeword, yes.”
Reluctantly, she turned her back to him and pulled her shirt off.
“No. Turn around and face me.”
She turned back, holding her shirt up in front of herself and feeling stupid. Her black bra covered everything just as well as a bathing suit, and he was going to see her naked later anyway, so why was she feeling so . . . exposed?
“Drop the shirt and unhook your bra.”
She dropped her shirt, and couldn’t help but check his expression.
Hungry. For her. Oh my.
“Bra.”
It only took a few seconds, but goose bumps rose along her skin as she complied. God, this was turning her on. But why? Being bossed around should make her angry, not make her hot.
“Slide your bra straps down your arms.”
She did, but held the cups of her bra over her breasts. The heat in his gaze threatened to light her bra on fire.
“Show me.”
Jeez. It was just her chest. Not a big deal. She’d flashed guys at parties and at Mardi Gras. Except she could tell it was a big deal to Luke. Obeying, she dropped her bra and was rewarded by the approval in his gaze. It was as though her body was exactly what he liked. There was nothing critical there, just appreciation.
“Fuck, you’re a hot little thing.” He toed off his boots and socks, then unzipped his jeans, all while watching her. Although she had the urge to cover herself with her arms, he was getting naked without any hesitation. Guys never seemed worried about their little imperfections, so why did women always feel like they were obligated to feel shitty about themselves? She stood up straighter and slipped off the flip-flops she’d bought, enjoying the feel of the grass under her feet.
He was naked by then, but she wouldn’t allow herself to look down past his belly.
“Jeans. Now.”
She tugged her zipper down, painfully aware of how hard her nipples were in response to his gaze and his commands. The man had a voice that could entice her to do almost anything. Maybe anything. Fly, kill a man, eat carbs . . .
Taking off skinny jeans when she had nowhere to sit down didn’t make for a very dignified strip show, but she managed with a bit of shimmying and awkwardness. He was polite enough not to laugh.
When she stood before him in just her tiny thong, he flicked a finger at it, too, and it practically melted off. It was sodden anyway, and she was glad to be rid of it. She moved toward the water.
“Stop.”
She froze in place and glanced back at him, accidentally catching a glimpse of his semi-erect cock. The thing was big enough that it required several glimpses. Now she was glad he’d declined the blow job she’d offered him in the dressing room—getting that thing into her mouth was going to be a challenge.
“What?”
“Did I tell you to get in the water?”
She smothered a laugh. “I didn’t realize this was going to turn into a game of Luke Says.”
“Oh, but it is.”
His dark eyes held a threat, but a fun one.
“Luke says stand there so I can look at you.”
Look at her? Jeez. She could feel the prickle of an intensified blush creeping up her neck and down her chest to cover her whole body. When he came closer, she stood up straight again, determined not to cower, even though her mind was urging her to.
He stood in front of her for a long moment, just looking. Her heart felt like it was battering at the inside of her rib cage trying to get out. Why was this so much more intimidating than just getting naked and messing around with a guy? Probably because it was still light out, and she felt like she was being inspected. It should’ve been every girl’s worst nightmare—being appraised by a hot man—but he wasn’t judging her. He was looking at her like she was worth savoring.
Slowly, he moved around her. She could feel his gaze on her, like the trail of gentle fingers over flesh. His build made her feel small and dainty.
“Don’t kick my tires. They’re sensitive,” she muttered.
He chuckled. “Did I say you could speak?”
She opened her mouth to say something scathing, since he was behind her and not pinning her with that dark stare of his, but nothing came out. Being looked at like this was humiliating and arousing and it made her desperate to either run away or lick his boots . . . although those were over by his clothes.
When his finger brushed against her lower back she cried out as though he’d touched something more intimate. She started to shake, her nerves more on edge than they’d been around any other man.
“Birthmark?” he asked.
She bobbed her head, remembering he hadn’t said she could speak.
When he was standing in front of her again, he was smiling. “You did a good job staying still.”
Pleasure flooded through her, like she’d just won the Nobel Prize in Standing Still on Command.
“Cold?” he asked, his mouth twitching in amusement.
It was anything but cold. She shook her head.
“Your pretty nipples are very hard for a girl who isn’t cold.” His fingers hovered over them, almost touching, but not quite. If she drew a deep breath he’d be touching her.
She ached for him low in her belly. The wetness she could feel between her thighs had to have given her away.
“Has anyone ever told you what a lovely body you have? It’s the perfect match for your face.”
She wanted to protest—to argue with him and point out flaws he’d obviously missed, but without permission to speak, all she could do was roll her eyes.
“What’s that eye roll for, Ophelia? You may speak.”
“You don’t have to feed me some bullshit line. You know I’m a sure thing at this point.”
“It’s not a bullshit line.”
“Well, then . . . your standards are pretty low.”
He grabbed her upper arm and turned her away from him so fast she didn’t have time to react. Three hard swats landed on her backside, stinging, making her squeak and try to pull free from his grasp.
/> “Ow!”
“That was a warning. Insult yourself again, no matter where we are, and you’ll get it worse.” Still holding her by the arm, he rubbed his other palm over the stinging spot, and warmth crept through her along with a pleasure that made her head feel floaty.
“Do you understand me, princess?” he growled in her ear.
She whimpered in confusion, wanting to die of embarrassment but desperately wanting him to spank her again. Longer and harder. Was that supposed to deter her from doing it again? What kind of a plan was that?
At the same time, she couldn’t believe he’d chastised her like a child. And she liked it!
The grip on her arm tightened and it was all she could do get her noodle legs to hold her upright. If she had an orgasm just from him bossing her around she was never going to be able to look him in the eye again.
“Yes, Luke,” she whispered.
He let go of her arm and she sagged, struggling to even out her breathing. God, this guy had her number.
“In the water now, horny girl. We’re going to rinse off before I tie you up.”
The river was pleasantly cool and refreshing after being stuck in the SUV for most of the day, but even the sensation of the current on her skin was heightening her arousal. Luke dove and swam like he’d been born in the water, splashing her, taunting her into splashing him back. He glided around her, their skin sometimes touching and sending sparks through her. Hell, he even looked good wet, with his dark hair slicked back. A few times she let herself touch his chest, shoving him playfully away. Once she let her finger stray over one of his nipple rings and was rewarded with a flash of heat behind his dark eyes.
It was dark by the time they got out, and her face hurt from smiling. When was the last time she’d played? It hadn’t been little kid-level play, not with them both being naked, but hanging out with Luke was . . . fun. And hot. Was hot fun even a thing?
Luke retrieved both towels. He wound one around his waist then wrapped the other around her, patting her dry as if she was a child and incapable of doing it herself. It was adorable and she kind of loved it.
When he’d dried her and squeezed most of the water from her hair, he kissed her—a slow, teasing brush of the lips that rekindled the heat that still lurked from earlier.
He tucked the end of her towel in to keep it on and gathered their clothes, then led her back to their campsite. In the twilight, he rebuilt a small campfire over the remains of the old one. It threw more light than she’d expected and took the chill from her skin.
For a few minutes he rooted through their day’s purchases in the tent, and came back with a bag. He’d put his jeans back on, but left his shirt off, and was looking particularly edible.
“What’s in the bag?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said. “Come with me.”
He walked to a nearby tree on the edge of the circle of firelight. She followed, wondering what they were doing now. Would he make her hike in her towel? She hoped not. She wasn’t even wearing shoes. Luckily the grass was thick here, but farther into the woods it wouldn’t be. He didn’t look like he was going anywhere, though.
Standing near him, she watched as he fiddled with some things she couldn’t quite see in the gloom, trying to ignore the flash of the pocketknife in his hand when the blade caught the firelight. What would it feel like to have it slide over her skin? It was hard to get the idea out of her head after he’d suggested cutting her shirt off earlier. Even though the danger of it appealed on some twisted level, she wasn’t ready for it to happen in real life anytime soon.
Luke threw the end of a rope and whatever was dangling from it over the overhead limb of the tree, and it fell back to hang just above her head. He beckoned to her and she went to him.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“What are we doing?”
“I’m going to tie you here with your hands above your head, and play with you for a while.”
“Play with me?” She wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but she was more than willing to find out.
“Yes. Do you remember your safeword?” he asked, his breath stirring her hair. “You need to use it if you don’t like something or you start freaking out, okay?”
“Okay.”
He cut the rope to the length he wanted, then tied what she saw now was a cuff to the newly cut end.
“Where did you get bondage cuffs at the mall?”
He held one closer so she could see it better.
“Puppy collars.” He smirked. “Nothing but the fancy stuff for Miss Ophelia. Now don’t hang from them. I don’t know how strong they are, but I figured they’d mark you up less than rope would.”
She giggled nervously while he buckled them on. She wasn’t usually a giggler, but this was weird and hot and more than a bit humiliating. Her brain said she shouldn’t let him do this to her but a deeper, baser part of her really, really thought she should.
When he was done, her hands were effectively tied over her head. Experimentally, she tugged, but the collars didn’t give. She tugged harder, put her weight on them, bent her knees and hung from them, but unless she unbuckled them she’d be helpless. She was good and stuck.
“I can’t get away.” Even the words turned her on.
“No.”
“Let me go,” she said experimentally.
“Do you really want me to let you go, Ophelia?”
“No. If I meant it, I’d say ‘red.’”
“If you say ‘yellow’ I’ll slow down whatever I’m doing to check on you.”
“Okay.” She grinned at him, a little scared, but a lot excited. This moment felt like the first ascent of a rollercoaster. She shifted and her towel gave up on her and fell off. “Oops.”
He smiled. “That was only a matter of time. I’m surprised it stayed on so long. Now look what you did to me.” His hand slid down to grab at the bulge in his jeans.
“You can’t blame me for that,” she said coyly. “It’s been like that all day.”
“Yes, because of you.” He kissed her gently, coaxing her into kissing him back. Pleasant, but not what she was expecting from tonight. His palm skimmed along her ribs and up her back to thread into her hair. He took gentle hold of it near the roots then increased the strength of his grasp until she whimpered. His hard body was pressed against her, and she wanted nothing more than to roll in his sexy, masculine scent.
“You like a bit of pain, don’t you, pretty Ophelia,” he whispered against her mouth, not asking. “When I spanked you by the river you didn’t want me to stop.”
“You wish.” The gasp her statement ended on might have given her away though. That and the way she kept having to clench her thighs together to relieve some of the ache in her pussy.
His eyes glittered dangerously in the firelight. “Should you lie to the man who can punish you?”
She shivered. “Punish me?” Her voice was higher than usual.
“Yes. Although if you liked being spanked, my belt might just turn you on.”
“Your belt? What would you do with your belt?” She had a pretty good idea, but she just had the perverse desire to hear him say it.
He grabbed a handful of her ass. “Make this sexy ass of yours sting. Turn it pink.” His breathing became even and deliberate, like he was working hard to control himself. “Welt it.”
Oh god. She was trying not to glance down at herself, but her nipples were so hard and pokey that she kept catching glimpses of them in her peripheral vision. He’d have to be dense not to know this was turning her on.
She cleared her throat, wondering if she should be scared. However, that was part of the appeal. “You won’t make me bleed or anything though, right?”
“No. Nothing that rough.” His hand smoothed over her ass where he’d grabbed it, and it made her shudder.
> “Okay.”
The flicker of desire in his eyes made her knees wobble.
“You can even spank me harder than you did,” she said, feeling like this whole situation was a dream and she couldn’t quite control what was coming out of her own mouth. But hey—she’d already admitted what she was into and he hadn’t flipped out. If he was willing to give her what she’d secretly been thinking about for so long, and could keep his mouth shut, it might be worth the humiliation. “And you can hit me with your belt. Start slow though, okay? I’ll say ‘red’ if I have to.”
“Good girl.”
Damn, why was it so hot when he talked to her like this? The way he stroked his hand down her side, and the thick approval in his tone—and in his pants—made her want to keep doing things to please him.
With other men the whole dominance thing made her want to knee them in the nuts. With him, it was just hot.
Without warning, he swatted her ass. Hard. She yelped in surprise.
“Attention on me, Ophelia.” He was in her face, talking too close, his dark eyes narrowed and dangerous.
“Sorry.”
He caught one of her nipples between his fingers, slowly increasing the pressure of his pinch until it hurt. She whimpered, swore, then stood silent and trembling as heat flashed through her body. Her breath caught and held just as his grip did.
“Breathe, little girl.” He let go and she sagged, gasping for breath.
Fuck, that hurt. Being trapped and forced to submit was what made her needy, not the pain, right?
Big hands cupped her breasts, fondled them, teased at her nipples and made her squirm. She could feel herself waiting, anticipating when he’d hurt her again. Her nipple ached, but the other one didn’t, and she found herself pushing against his hand, urging him to be rougher.
“Oh, you liked that, did you? You want more?”
“What? No.” Was he a mind reader?
A sexy half smirk played across his lips, his cheek flashing a dimple at her.
“Yes, you do. But what if I do this?” He grabbed her sore nipple again, gently, then squeezing harder and harder until the pain drove a spike from her breast to her pussy. Her mouth hung open in shock and she shuddered violently. He let go and she sucked in a whooping breath, wriggling on the end of his rope, trying to get her thighs to relieve the ache of her clit.
Fueling His Hunger Page 7