by HELEN HARDT
“She offered to tell me what went on between you and Addie ten years ago.”
He stiffens further. In fact he’s rigid. He could be a statue carved in marble. “I see.”
“I was tempted,” I say. “I went for a drink with her and was ready to hear the whole story, but then I remembered something you said to me.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. You said I could take my time. That we could talk when I was ready. You didn’t push me, Braden, and I love you for it. I owe you that same respect and courtesy.”
His lips curve upward into a half-smile. “That must have been difficult for you.”
“Oh, you have no idea.”
He cups my cheek and kisses the tip of my nose. “You deserve a reward.”
“I think so.”
He kisses my nose again. “You’re an amazing woman, Skye. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
I can’t help myself. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”
“Woman!” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Don’t you know by now what you do to me?”
“Yes, I know. You do the same thing to me. You have since I first laid eyes on you. No one can deny your obvious physical appeal, but it was your demeanor that got to me. Your presence. You fill every room you’re in, Braden. Nothing scares you. Nothing.”
“Only one thing,” he says, cupping my cheek once more.
“What’s that?”
“The thought of my life without you.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I open my mouth, but only a soft sigh emerges.
I’ve brought him to his knees.
I’ve brought Braden Black to his knees.
He places two fingers over my lips. “Don’t say anything. I know I ended our relationship, and I did so for good reason. But being without you…” He shakes his head. “It’s not something I want to experience again.”
“You don’t have to,” I say.
“I didn’t think this would happen to me.” He shakes his head. “We started out the same way I always start out. I saw something I wanted, and I went after it. But you got inside me somehow. And then, right before that last trip to New York, you broke me. Your tears, your sadness. I would have committed murder to keep that sadness away from you forever.”
I smile. “You don’t have to become a criminal for me. I took care of it myself. Or I at least began the journey.”
“I’ve said it before. You’re an amazing woman, Skye.”
“And you’re an amazing man. What you’ve accomplished is beyond the scope of what most people can even imagine. You pulled yourself up by your bootstraps, without any help, and you made it to the top. You’re incredible.”
His facial muscles tense. Just a little, but I notice. Have I upset him?
He softens again within a few seconds, thumbing my lower lip. “God, this mouth.”
Then his lips are on mine, his tongue delving between them. The kiss is firm and drugging, and I ache for more, more, more…
As if reading my mind, he reaches down and pushes my shirt up over my breasts. He squeezes one, finding the nipple over the fabric of my bra and tantalizing it with his fingertips.
Images flow into my mind. Our lovemaking in Kansas. Our initial scene at the Black Rose Underground. Our first time together at his place. Mere weeks ago, yet it seems like a lifetime has passed since then.
He releases my breast and trails his hand downward, unbuttoning my jeans. Then his fingers are inside my underpants, toying with my folds.
He breaks the kiss and gasps in a breath. “Fuck, you’re so wet. So wet for me.”
“Always,” I breathe.
“Need to taste you.” He pulls my jeans off my legs and then discards my panties as well. He spreads my legs and then stares between them. “Your pussy lips are swollen and pink. So beautiful. I’m going to eat you, Skye. I’m going to eat you until you beg me to stop.”
I close my eyes as he swipes his tongue over my opening. He moves away for a moment and nibbles and sucks on my inner thigh.
I moan softly, my eyes still closed.
“Open your eyes,” Braden says. “Watch me eat you.”
I open them and meet his burning blue gaze. He’s on fire—on fire as I am. I want his mouth on me. On my pussy. On all of me.
“Keep those gorgeous eyes open,” Braden commands. “Don’t take them off mine.”
He buries his face between my legs, his lips and mouth touching all of me at once. My own fingers trail to my breasts, first cupping them and then probing the nipples covered by my bra. They’re hard. Hard and taut and they want their freedom. I hastily lift my bra up, exposing them.
Braden lets go of my clit. “I fucking love your tits. Play with them, baby. Play with them while I eat your pussy.”
I twirl my fingers around my nipples, giving them only a slight touch. Teasing myself, because I want my focus on Braden’s lips between my legs, but when I give one nipple a pinch, an arrow of current surges through me.
I close my eyes on a moan.
He stops licking me. “Open those eyes, damn it.”
His rich, commanding voice sears into me. My eyes pop open nearly of their own accord. This is the power he possesses. All the power. And I’m good with it. So good with it.
“Don’t close them again, Skye. You won’t like the result.”
No orgasm. That will be the result. Damn him! Except I love him so much. I love the power he has over me. I love his commands, his darkness, his control.
I love it all.
I must be on fire. Invisible flames encircle me, make me hot. Chain me to this couch, to Braden. I never want to be free from his control and his lips and those blazing blue eyes burning into me.
He sucks at my clit, and already I’m running toward the peak, the precipice, that paradise that exists only in my climactic haze. A finger fills me. Then another, and I jump. I fucking jump into the abyss where nothing exists except Braden and me and our love. The orgasm radiates through me, up into my abdomen and then my chest. Soon my body is trembling all over, and I squeeze my nipples harder. Harder, until the pain bursts through me like a skyrocket and adds to my pleasure.
“Braden, I’m coming! I’m coming!”
“That’s it. Come. Come for me.”
His fingers continue to tantalize me, moving in and around and finding every crevice that sends me splintering even further.
And all this time, my gaze never wavers from his. Even as I’m whirling through a spiral of physical and emotional sensations, even as the azure of his eyes gives way to torrid blue flames, I keep my eyes locked on his.
Then he’s over me, his cock released, and he’s inside me, pumping.
He fills me, completes me, makes me whole, and as he fucks me, my orgasm continues to flourish.
“Fuck, Skye,” he says through clenched teeth. “I feel you coming. All over my cock. Your pussy squeezing it. Fuck!”
Still I’m gazing into his beautiful blue eyes, even when he squeezes them shut and pulses into me and releases. I don’t close mine. They stay open, locking with his eyelids.
He told me not to close my eyes, and I do not.
He stays embedded in me, his cock pulsating, his shirt abrading my sensitive nipples. And when he finally opens his eyes, they’re smoldering like the ash of a dying fire.
Only his fire isn’t dying.
It’s only beginning. I see it come to life once more in his gaze.
His lips meet mine, then, in a hard and bruising kiss. No ordinary kiss, not even the feral kiss we shared earlier.
No. This is a kiss of two souls lost and now found.
And I know, in that instant, that Braden has shared a part of himself with me that he’s never shared with anyone.
It no longer matters whether he tells me about him
and Addie. Or even about his mother.
I know him in a way no one else ever will.
Chapter Thirty
Once I come down from my dreamy high, I can’t help a chuckle.
“What?” Braden asks.
“You’re still fully dressed, as usual.”
“As usual?”
“You mean you don’t know that you usually stay dressed when we make love?”
“I guess I never thought about it. Though I admit it’s on brand for me.”
“Yeah, it is. Always in control.” I gaze at him. His lips are swollen and red from that last punishing kiss. Except it wasn’t punishing. It was violent, yes, but not punishing. It was a meeting of souls.
“I won’t deny it,” he says.
“Ha! You better not. I’ll know you’re lying.”
“I don’t lie, Skye.”
No, he doesn’t. He may keep things from me, but he doesn’t lie. “I know. You want some dessert now?”
“Sure.”
“Coffee?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
I rise and hastily pull my bra and shirt back over my breasts. “Where are my jeans?”
“I don’t know. I threw them somewhere.”
“Ah.” I spy them underneath a chair.
“You can leave them off,” he says. “In fact, take off the rest. I want you to serve me dessert naked.”
“Will you be naked, too?”
“Are you forgetting who makes the rules here?” he asks.
I smile. “Braden, does this mean our relationship is back on?”
He cocks his head. “Do you want it to be?”
“Do you?”
He shakes his head. “You’re still the same Skye, arguing about every little thing. Yes, I want it to be, but I’m giving you an out.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not ready to give you what you gave me. I’m not ready to tell you the things you want to know, and to be honest, I may never be.”
I can always get it out of Apple.
But I know I won’t. I won’t betray Braden. I love him and respect him too much.
I strip off my shirt and bra and walk naked into his arms. I kiss his lips softly. “It’s okay. I want to be with you. Sure, I wish you’d be honest with me about those things in your past, but if I have to choose between you and knowing about you and Addie, I choose you.”
“You’re a stronger person than I am,” he says.
“I doubt that.”
“You are. I gave you a challenge, and you ran with it. You figured yourself out even though it was difficult and it caused you pain.”
“I’m far from having myself all figured out,” I say. “Like I said, it’s a journey, and the journey is what’s important.”
“I agree. And I want to give you something.”
“The truth about you and Addie?” I raise my eyebrows, hoping.
“No. That I can’t do. But I want to tell you a little more about my mother.”
I look down at my bare breasts. “Now?”
He pulls something out of his pocket. “Maybe after dessert.”
A flash of red. Then a flash of black. “What are those?” I ask.
He holds up two pieces of fabric, each red on one side and black on the other. “Restraints,” he says. “Silk restraints.”
“And you just happen to have those lying around in your pocket.”
“Have you ever known me not to come prepared?” His voice holds a touch of amusement, but his expression remains stoic. This is dark Braden. The Braden I first fell in love with.
My nipples harden in an instant, as if a chilly wind is blowing over them.
“Silk isn’t the best material for restraining someone,” he continues. “It can get knotted tightly and is sometimes difficult to release. Fortunately, I’m experienced enough that it doesn’t pose a problem.”
I shudder. For the first time, his talk of experience doesn’t arouse jealousy in me. No, no jealousy. Only desire. I want that silk touching my body, binding me.
I look around. Where will he bind me? I have a headboard, but unlike his, it’s not built for bondage.
“To answer your question—”
“What question?” I interrupt.
“I see you glancing around. Wondering what I’m going to do to you with these restraints. You’ve underestimated me, Skye. Remember that evening when you turned off your phone so you wouldn’t get my email?”
I nod. Not my finest moment.
“I had some time here alone, and I looked around this place.” He glances to the hanging planter in my kitchen. “That hook is secured by a molly bolt. It can support at least fifty pounds.”
“I appreciate the compliment, but I weigh a lot more than that.” I give him what I hope is a teasing smile.
“That doesn’t matter, because your feet will be on the ground. The hook will simply hold your bound wrists above your head. All I need is to slide your table to the right slightly.”
The table still holds some of our dinner dishes, but with a flourish he slides it over without so much as jarring them.
“Your ceilings are low as well.” He steps on a chair and grabs the hanging plant, setting it gently on the table. “Where’s that crème brûlée?”
“In the fridge, but I have to do the topping.”
“Not tonight. Tonight I want only the cream.” He raises an eyebrow. “Though I know it won’t be as delicious as your cream.”
I squirm, squeezing my thighs together. My nipples are so hard they may pop off.
“Hold out your wrists.”
I obey. He wraps the bindings around them in an intricate pattern, securing me tightly but not so tight as to be uncomfortable. Two strips of silk—a little over two feet long, by my estimation—hang from my wrists, presumably to secure me to the hook in the ceiling.
“Don’t you need to measure?” I ask.
He shakes his head and then meets my gaze. “I never miss.”
My body throbs with anticipation as Braden steps on the chair once more and secures the other ends of the restraints to the hook.
“Good?” he asks.
I have a little slack, and my feet are flat on the floor, about fifteen inches apart, so I guess that’s good. “Yeah. Good.”
He moves the chair out of the way. “You’re going to stand there, Skye. You’re going to stand there quietly. No talking. And you’re going to take what I dish out.”
Chapter Thirty-One
He walks around me until he’s out of my vision.
“Oh!” I squeal as his palm comes down on my ass.
“No talking!” He slaps me harder this time.
I press my lips together to keep from squealing again.
“You have the most beautiful ass, Skye. I still haven’t had the pleasure of fucking it.”
Right. That night. We were supposed to…
“Not tonight,” he says.
Disappointment flows through me.
“Soon,” he continues, “but not tonight.”
He picks up the dish of crème brûlée that he set on the table previously. He sticks his finger into the cream, swirls it around, and then holds it to my lips. “Taste.”
I lick his finger clean, letting the lushness of the dessert sit on my tongue before I swallow.
He twirls his finger in the cream again, and this time he tastes it. A low growl rises from his chest.
I’m on fire. The image of Braden sucking crème brûlée off his thick finger has me ready to burst. My nipples strain, and I instinctively pull against my bindings.
“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t resist. You’re mine, bound and ready for my pleasure.”
I nod.
Into the cream goes his finger once more, but th
is time he smears it over one of my nipples. The heat of my skin melts the thick cream, and it dribbles down over my large breast.
Braden’s eyes smolder. “You look so enticing.”
Please lick it off. Please.
Instead, he smears the other nipple with cream as well, and soon it’s melting down my abdomen, heading toward my throbbing pussy.
What he does next makes me gasp. Braden, who’s always so meticulous, scoops all of the crème brûlée out of the dish and covers my body with it. He fingerpaints me, cream sliding down his forearms onto his cotton shirt.
“You’re delectable,” he says. “Covered in thick and gooey sweetness. And now I’m going to lick every bit off of you.”
God, yes. Please.
He lowers his head and licks one nipple, slurping and sucking. I ache to thread my fingers through his thick hair, ache to tell him how good his lips feel on my flesh. But I’m bound by silk and by his command.
And I want it no other way.
He sucks and eats custard from both nipples, tormenting me with pleasure. His lips and tongue travel downward, but damn him, he avoids my clit. He sucks the cream from my inner thighs, my calves, even the tops of my feet.
“Delicious.” He swipes his tongue over his lips.
And I think I may faint from desire.
“Did I miss something?” he asks innocently.
He knows he did. He knows exactly what he did. I won’t say it, even though I want to scream it.
Eat me! Eat my pussy! I’m dying here! Please.
Finally he slides his tongue between my legs.
And I nearly implode on the spot. I can’t move my arms. I can’t speak. I can only feel—and I feel enraptured. Tantalized.
This man of mine eats pussy like no other, and even though we fucked only moments earlier, I’m wet and ripe and ready to go again. I resist tugging on the silk. I don’t want to pull the hook out of the drywall. So I stand, not suspended but nearly, as Braden licks me, tantalizes me, eats me like I’m a feast.
I slide into a climax, my core throbbing, and then another. My whole world shatters around me and implodes between my legs. He licks, and he licks, and he licks, and when I think I can’t take one more tug on my clit, he sucks it between his lips and jams two fingers inside me.