Seduced

by Angel Payne

  He set her free but only far enough to lock his gaze with hers again. “You have quite a sassy mouth, sunshine. I should put it to good use.”

  Ava slanted him a tiny smile. Sassy? Yeah, he’d pretty much nailed it—which was damn weird for her to admit. She’d never pulled shit like this on a man before. But no other man in her life had dared to trap her against a tree the second day they knew each other. No other man could dissolve her ire with the magic of his subtle smirk or make her want to throw back that arrogance just to see how he’d react, hopefully with that spanking he’d just threatened. No other man made her long to unlock the hidden side of her sexuality for him…because she knew he’d savor it, stroke it, make it soar.

  And after this magical hour, none of it would be hers again. None of him could be hers. She needed to make every second of it count.

  “Gee. You’re shoulding all over yourself this afternoon, Sergeant Archer. Plan on doing anything about that?”

  That got his brows to jump. And his lips to part. And his fingers to curl into the clothes she still wore, unbuckling her belt and then yanking down her pants zipper. Without a word, he circled an arm around her waist and slammed her against him, lifting one of her thighs against his waist. With his brilliant stare still fixed on her, he yanked at the laces of her ankle boot, jerked the thing off, and then tossed it to join his shirt somewhere in the shadows. He lowered that leg and pulled up the other to repeat the action. When he was done, he rebalanced her on both feet, still not looking away, still radiating with dark sexual energy.

  A thick moment passed. Neither of them blinked. With his arms at his sides and his shoulders held high, his torso was more breathtaking than the golden marble Adonises that peeked from the alcoves. Ava ordered herself not to stare at the twin ridges of abdominal muscle that arrowed down, leading beneath his pants…an impossible feat. Ay dios mio, he was breathtaking.

  “Take them off, Ava,” he ordered in a low, sleek tone. “Take off everything. I want to see every inch of the beauty I’ve been fantasizing about. All of it.”

  If she opened every bottle in this room and drank the contents, her senses wouldn’t whirl this madly. She was achingly aware of every approving growl he issued as she shucked her formfitting jeans and the black thong beneath. But he saved the best sound for last. When she straightened, totally nude before him, a sound curled from him like a plume of smoke from a magician’s pyre, redolent with approval…and arousal.

  Out in the living room, one of the maids turned up some music. Ava almost wondered if the woman could see through walls and knew what was going on, because the selection, midtempo and belted by a Spanish soprano, was recorded for one purpose alone. A lusty, sweaty purpose.

  As she walked to Ethan, that heat was carved into every inch of his perfect features.

  “Good girl.” It rolled out of him as he pressed closer. He was huge and hard and warm, consuming her vision again, a welcome domination this time. Without a second thought, she dipped her head into his chest. As her forehead pressed between his dog tags, she felt at once connected. Content.

  Confused.

  Don’t get used to this, Ava. She had to be diligent about the reminders. This was a bite of sin only meant to be savored in this moment alone. There could be no “getting connected.” No being “content.” No letting him into her spirit or her soul. No anything except one beautiful lick of man candy. One. Period.

  The mandate made her feel a little stronger despite the shivers he induced by raking both hands down her spine, continuing around the swells of her bottom, drawing his fingers together in the crevice between her cheeks. But as he glided farther in, parting the sensitive wings of her sex from the back, the tremors turned to liquid—and so did any rational thought.

  “Ava.” His voice was like a rich cabernet against her neck, a silken caress backed by unmistakable command.

  “Y-Yeah?”

  “You’re already wet for me.”

  “Yeah…”

  The dark thunder vibrated through his chest again as he moved his grip back to her buttocks. Like lightning had struck his inner storm, he kneaded her flesh with increasing urgency. He openly bit her nape. The pain made her gasp in surprise, which rocketed into excitement. As she mewled against the base of his throat, she wrapped her arms around his waist and clawed ten deep, slow tracks across his back.

  A feral groan ripped out of Ethan. Even when he’d trapped her in the forest those many months ago, he hadn’t sounded like this. But that was it, wasn’t it? All those months ago. Lightning stored in a bottle for over two hundred days was an explosion in waiting. She experienced the truth of that now in every skin cell he marked, every tremble he induced, every inch of her body he claimed in sweeps and squeezes that burned and branded. His fervor boiled her limbs to the consistency of applesauce. When he shifted his hold from her ass to her shoulders, her knees gave out, and there was no way to go but down.

  Oh damn, it felt good. Better than she’d imagined or hoped. Here at his feet…yes. It was natural. Perfect. Meant to be.

  “Fuck.” It left him on a strangled choke. When she pressed her cheek into his thigh, his muscles bunched and tensed. She nudged him like a kitten seeking approval. He answered her need, bunching his hand into her hair, gathering the strands until they were tight between his fingers. Ava moaned, again hating him and adoring him for the brutal pain…and the magnificent mental journey into which he guided her deeper.

  “I’ve had fantasies too.” She confessed it as she rubbed her nose against his zipper. The bulge beneath her face pounded for release. He held her there for a long moment, grunting in pleasure as she bit at the denim. She’d never done anything like this before, and it was…wonderful. Naughty. Forbidden. Completely wanton. The world always demanded that she be calm and temperate, the graceful daughter, the sensible friend, the poised stylist. For once, she longed to be wild, wicked, and lost in sexual decadence with this dark, primitive warrior…and his hot, throbbing spear.

  “Show me.” Ethan’s order made it clear he shared that mindset. He pulled her hair harder. “Show me exactly what you fantasized.”

  His choppy breath finished it, a sound Ava savored as much as the musky scent of his arousal as she unzipped his pants. As she pushed them down, a tattoo was revealed down the length of his right leg. The design was rendered entirely in black ink, depicting a chain of matching circles, each with a smaller ring attached inside, that were hooked together with the same Chinese symbol. She fingered it for a minute, wondering if the angels themselves had given it to him since the ink was such a perfect match for his dark beauty, before realigning her vision with the tight cotton that covered his clamoring lust.

  With a careful tug, she freed his shaft from the fabric.

  “Oh!” she blurted.

  “What?”

  She looked up into his face, its classic angles crunched in concern. A smile bloomed on her lips. “My fantasies weren’t as good as this.”

  His apprehension darkened into desire once more. As it did, she ran her cheek along his erect length, letting her tongue trail in its wake. Ethan’s groan filled her ears as she explored him even more, tasting, licking, kissing. His cock was as perfectly formed as the rest of him, sleek and long, velvet skin stretched over solid muscle. It was trailed with hard veins that pulsed as she made her way along his erection. Finally she closed her mouth over the bulb at the end, savoring the tangy residue of his precome before she drew him in by an inch. Then another.

  “Fuck!” His reprise of the word came from the depths of his gut. He brought his other hand around, sifting through her hair again before bracketing her jaw. With his thumb, he traced her lips as she sucked him over and over, deeper and deeper. “Oh, sunshine,” he finally grated, “I don’t think mine were, either.”

  She pulled back for a moment, daring another gaze up at his lust-shadowed face. “Please…tell me I was here in your fantasies.”

  His brows hunkered. “Here?”

 
“On my knees for you. Serving you…like this.”

  It felt so good to say it. To reveal her darkest secret to him, this dream of being at her warrior’s feet, naked for him, ready to please him in any way he craved, in any manner he ordered…

  No. She needed to stop thinking like this. Weren’t the tags that hung from his neck reminder enough of the fire with which she was playing? Military men are not good for you. If that wasn’t dangerous enough, she tossed kerosene onto the mix by opening the closet on her kinky needs again. What the hell was wrong with her?

  As soon as he spoke again, the answer to that didn’t seem so important.

  “Goddamnit.” His voice was husky in all the right ways. He slid his grip beneath her chin, tilting her head in order to lock her gaze with his. “They sure as hell did, baby.”

  An insane, hot sting surged behind her eyes. She swallowed it back…and then threw open the damn closet and let her kinkster dance. “What else happened?” she asked in a whisper. “In your dreams…what else did I do for you?”

  A hard gulp plummeted in Ethan’s throat. Her spirit jumped. As she’d guessed—and hoped—it seemed he had a kinky closet too. But he was fighting it.

  “Some parts of my fantasies are best left locked up.”

  She lifted her chin by a notch. “Unlock them.”

  His pupils dilated. His erection twitched. “Ava, listen—”

  “Unlock them.”

  With one hand, she palmed his penis again. With the other, she lifted a pleading hand to his ribbed stomach. Ethan issued the F-word again beneath his breath, echoing the conflict that crunched his face, bunched his shoulders, and even jerked his thighs.

  It was time to stop doing this silly dance. If she had to pull open defiance on him, so be it.

  “This is called topping from the bottom, right?” She gripped his shaft and squeezed. With her other hand, she scratched into his abdomen. “Doesn’t a girl usually get paddled for this?”

  Ethan’s anatomical earthquake went still. Without preamble, he grabbed the wrist against his torso and cinched it tight with his hand. When he answered her, there was no more forbearance in his voice. Or trembling. “Usually she does—unless that’s the brat’s goal.” He cocked his head. “In that case, alternative punishments are considered.”

  Her mouth popped open. Her hand, still trapped by his grip, went still.

  “Al-Alternative punishments?” Shit. She knew about those, of course—but always skipped those parts in the novels she read or clicked off those pages on the kinky community chat rooms to which she belonged. Thanks to Bella, her free time was rare, so she always wanted to get to the good stuff. The spanking scenes. “I…I thought paddling was the preferred—”

  “I prefer lots of things, Ava.” His left brow jumped up. Damn, he stole her breath every time he did that. “Are you still interested in finding out?” He gentled his hold and started stroking her knuckles with the tips of his fingers.

  “Yes.” She rendered the answer without hesitation—realizing she’d been waiting seven months to do so. “Yes, S—Ethan.”

  His lips quirked. “Sunshine, was that the beginning of a ‘Sir?’”

  Yes. “M-Maybe.”

  “Have you ever said it to a man before?”

  “N-No.”

  “But you want to.”

  She swallowed. “God, yes.”

  “Then right now, you will.” His teasing tone had vanished. “And you shall.”

  She let him see her grateful smile. “Yes, Sir.”

  “But no still means no,” he emphasized. “And you’ll still stop me if I push too hard.” He guided the shiny head of his cock back to her mouth, nudging it in enough that she wetted the hot purple surface again. “Because God fucking help me, I want to push.”

  His admission made her stomach jump and her senses leap. She opened her throat, longing to take him deep again, but he backed away, leaving only his heady masculine taste on her tongue.

  “Stand up, sunshine.” His tone turned brisk as he wheeled away, beckoning her deeper into the wine room with him. The tasting area had a pair of plush couches that faced each other, upholstered in red velvet. He pointed to one. “Sit there. Arms out to your sides, along the top of the couch. Keep them there until I tell you otherwise.”

  “Yes, Sir.” The words flowed through her like honey, coating her mind with delicious warmth. As she scooted onto the couch, the velvet tickled her bottom and thighs. Ethan didn’t make a sound. He didn’t have to. The sensual strength of his stare flowed over and around her, joining with the next song in the housekeeper’s mix: a thrumming, rock-influenced tango.

  When she was in position, she looked up. Her gaze took in the firm brace of Ethan’s feet before catching on the bottom edge of his tattoo wrapped around his right ankle. She followed the elegant circles and symbols back up to his torso, with his insanely perfect abs and arms. But even they weren’t enough to distract her from fixating again on his proud, long cock, even more erect than before, practically pulsing in time to the music that throbbed in the air.

  The guitars calmed, dipping into a musical bridge. His quiet but determined command filled the air instead. “Spread your legs.”

  Slowly, she complied. Nervously, she waited. His stare was like a physical force, burning across the tender crevices she opened to him, casting a beautiful haze over her mind. She’d never let a man gaze at her like this. It was unnerving. It was exhilarating.

  “Your pussy’s glistening, Ava.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Th-Thank you.”

  “Open wider, baby.”

  She licked her lips, obeying by a few hesitant inches. As she did, Ethan lowered to the floor in front of her. He braced his hands to her thighs, just above her knees—and, without a word, shoved them farther back. A high cry tore off her lips. She was stretched shockingly wide, no inch of her sex a secret to him now. Ethan might as well have finished a crossword puzzle for all the serene satisfaction on his face. She didn’t know whether to hate him or adore him for it.

  “Better.” He trailed his hands upward. Higher, higher…intent on getting to the trembling layers he’d opened. “You’re stunning, sunshine.”

  “So are you, Sir.” Crazy as it was, especially after the liberty he’d just taken, it was true. If a casting director for the industry’s next sex god project were here, his naked magnificence would earn him the gig in a second. Yet he sat there looking as if she was the world’s hottest pinup. “Dear God,” she murmured, “am I dreaming?”

  A smile lit up his perfect face. “You’re fond of that question.” Tenderly, he thumbed the lips guarding her most precious entrance. “Just like I’m fond of proving you wrong.”

  “Ahhh!”

  She cried it as he slipped one, then two, of his long fingers inside her. Her head fell back. Her eyes rolled the same direction. He quickly set up a rhythm of thrust and retreat, taunting her exposed clit every time he moved in until she whimpered and gasped for him. Despite that, she tried to maintain some shred of composure. She should’ve gone for roping down the sun while she was at it. The feeling of his flesh inside her, awakening her…was exquisite. Incredible.

  He made it feel even more amazing by using his free hand to stroke the tops of her thighs. When she answered with a long keen, he growled, “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

  “Mmmm,” she whimpered. “Uh…uh-huh…”

  “Do you enjoy submitting to me, sunshine?”

  “Y-Yes,” she managed. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Excellent.” The pressure in her vagina intensified as he pushed in a third finger. A moan erupted from her lips. He kicked up the pace of his plunges. “And you like being fucked by my fingers?”

  “Yes…yes!”

  “You want them to make you come?”

  “Ohhh, please, yes!”

  She dug her fingers into the back of the couch, expecting him to intensify the erotic assault. Needing it…ay, ne
eding the completion so bad…

  He pulled completely out.

  She pried open her eyes. Stared at him through the fog of her arousal, past the air that heaved in and out of her chest. Looked down to the hand he’d just been using to pull her to heaven, now resting on her thigh. His fingers were still shiny with the evidence of what he’d done to her. She whimpered from the emptiness he’d left behind.

  “Wh-What’s wrong?” she pleaded. “What did I do?”

  Ethan shook his head and gave her that damn Dalai Lama smile. “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.” He rose to his knees, still between hers, and moved his hold to the sides of her waist. “It’s about what you’re going to do…for me.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Hmmm.” He managed to make cryptic and smug look completely gorgeous. “Not yet.”

  “Shit.” That made him chuckle, which tightened her scowl. “No still means no, right?” she challenged.

  “Uh-huh.” He surged a little higher, bringing his face even with hers…aligning his cock with the entrance of the tunnel he’d just emptied. “But you’re not going to say no.”

  She managed to laugh. “Is that so?” As he glided his hands over her ribcage and brushed his thumbs over the tingling tips of her nipples, she rasped, “What do you have in mind, Sergeant Sir?”

  Tee hee. How coy and cute was she? When the midnight skies of Ethan’s eyes gained new silver stars of arousal, she gave him a wriggle of supreme confidence—

  Which froze as soon as he uttered his reply.

  “Alternative punishment.”

  Chapter Five

  He was going to hell. If Ethan wasn’t sure of it before, he was now, because his delight in her little shiver, the perfect mix of alarm and anticipation, wasn’t something a pillar of virtue would feel. Like he could stop himself if he tried. She was stunning, beyond anything his imagination had conjured over the last seven months, when he allowed his mind—and his body—to indulge in a mortal’s thoughts about corrupting a goddess. Her hair was fuller, sexier. Her eyes were more mesmerizing. And her naked skin, like honey poured over cinnamon…damn. He soaked in as much of its glory as he could, certain Mount Olympus was going to notice she was missing any second and skewer him with lightning to get her back.