Dare to Surrender(34)

“Not one bit.”

“Don’t you want me to touch you too?” I asked, confused.

“Next time. After I’ve had my fill and know it won’t be the rushed affair you seem to desire.” He began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing tanned skin, a sexy, liberal sprinkling of dark chest hair, and a six-pack that spoke of hours in the gym.

Watching him as he hung the shirt over the chair, the muscles in his back and forearms flexing as he moved, I let out a moan.

He turned. Grinned. Eyes on mine, he undid his pants, slipping them off, no underwear to be concerned about hindering him in any way. And then he stood before me nude, his thighs as strong as the rest of him, his c**k larger than I’d imagined, thick and long and completely erect.

“Oh God.”

“I thought we’d clarified that last time. Just me.”

“There is no just about you,” I muttered under my breath, my ni**les erect and clearly as impressed with his body as my mind.

He chuckled before striding over, completely confident in his nudity—and why wouldn’t he be? He was strong and well defined, while I was bound, my br**sts thrusting upward for his viewing, my soft and slightly rounded stomach there for him to see.

Could this be any more mortifying?

I felt the dip of the bed as he joined me, the grip of his hands as he pulled my legs apart and stared down, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Just what did he see? I wondered.

Without warning, he slapped my pu**y, the same way as he’d done back in New York, and I yelped. “Either you stop thinking and enjoy or I’m going to bind your legs as well. I’ll turn you over, tie you to the bed, and spank your ass until you can’t think of anyone or anything but me. And what I make you feel.”

My eyes opened wide—both at his words and the warmth gushing between my thighs.

“You like the idea,” he said, trailing a finger through my sex and the moisture there.

I moaned at the slick touch that wasn’t enough to satisfy the ache.

“What’s going on in that head of yours that you can’t be in the moment?”

I stared up at the ceiling, unable to face him. “It’s just … you’re you, and I’m the woman who couldn’t satisfy—”

“The ass**le who has no place in this bedroom,” he said harshly. “Trust me, you wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you. You’re beautiful. Perfect.” His admiring tone couldn’t be anything but real. He slid a hand over my stomach and left his palm there. “You’re round where you should be, soft where I need you to be. And I don’t want you worrying about it again.”

“Yes, sir,” I said jokingly. I’d have saluted if my hands were free.

His eyes merely darkened, and his lips came down hard on mine.

I sighed into his mouth and reveled in the possessive kiss, his tongue swirling around, owning every inch of the deep recesses of my mouth. He tasted dark and sexy, like Gabe, the man who’d spoiled me for any other man. He knew how to kiss, and as much as I could do it for hours with him, my body was protesting the lack of touch, arching up off the bed without my permission.

He gripped my hips, holding me down. He trailed his lips from one side of my mouth to the other, then slid them downward, easing over my jaw, where he paused to inhale, much as I’d done to him.

“God, you smell good.” He continued down until his gorgeous face was between my br**sts, where he pressed a kiss against my sternum, his lips hovering over my skin. My body buzzed with anticipation. Finally, his big hands cupped one breast, raising it so he could lick at my nipple, teasing, suckling, his light touch at odds with the strong way he held my breast, his fingertips digging into my soft flesh. Such a contradiction, the bite of his fingers and light thrash of his tongue. The sensations were almost too much to bear, moisture pooling between my thighs, my clit pulsing with need.

Yeah, that took care of the thinking problem. All I could do was feel. He worked one breast thoroughly before moving to the other, his warm mouth and talented teeth and tongue arousing me to the point of insanity.

I thrashed on the bed, needing him to fill me, needing to come. “Please,” I moaned, pulling at my bindings, my hips rising in a plea of their own.

“Please what, kitten?”

My entire body trembled at the endearment. “Please make me come.”

He covered my pu**y with his full hand. Warm heat suffused me at his possessive touch. “How? Tell me what you need.”

“You.” I arched my hips, and he slid one finger inside. “I need you.” In and out, he teased me, but it wasn’t quite enough. “More.”