Cuffs - Cara Lockwood Page 0,28

patiently for his next command. He studied her body, focused on a point between her legs.

He tossed her the condom without looking at her face. “Put it on me.”

She sat up, sliding to the edge of the bed. She ripped the condom open with her teeth and put it between her lips. He hadn’t said how she ought to put it on. But his eyebrows raised slightly in approval. She moved to the edge of the bed. She reached up and took him in her hands, gingerly at first, reverential, almost. He moaned softly at her touch, and all she wanted was to make him groan even louder. Then she put the edge of the condom on the tip and rolled it on with her mouth. He was so thick, it was hard to do, but she managed to get half of it on before her hands had to finish the job.

He grew even bigger beneath her touch, his green eyes growing sharp, needy. He tilted down and found her mouth. The commands went silent then, as his lips trailed down the side of her neck and found her left nipple, his warm tongue bringing it to an aching point. Then he worked on the other, and it was her turn to moan as her head lolled back, eyes closed, as she rode the urgent wave of need that crashed over them both. The delicate way he moved drove her nearly insane. She wanted him—all of him—now, but he was taking his sweet time, exploring her body gingerly, deliberately. He bent over her, kissing her, licking her nipples, making her whole body arch with want. She focused on his mouth on her skin, and her body felt white-hot, a single exposed nerve that he could play with as he wished.

He filled her then, spreading her open, and she wrapped herself around him, her legs clenching tightly around his waist. He moved, slowly, deliberately, and she felt like she was going to come right there, dissolve into a puddle of pure ecstasy. She felt his weight on her, his delicious weight, and welcomed it. He pulled both her arms above her head and held them tightly with one hand, wrists together. She was completely at his mercy as his mouth found her nipple again. He pushed against her, harder, deeper, and it felt like a punishment and a reward all at once.

She gave her power to him, gave her will, gave her body. She tried to move her wrists, but he held them fast. Those strong hands. That was what she wanted. She wanted those strong hands to bind her. Hold her wildness in check. Give her the boundaries she desperately needed. He pulled back and met her gaze.

“You’re going to come for me,” he told her.

“Yes,” she breathed. Yes, she would. She couldn’t help it. She was climbing a staircase, one step at a time, and he was pushing her faster. Ever faster. He claimed her, deeper and deeper with each thrust.

“Come now. Come for me.” The command pushed her to the top. She rocked her hips to meet his thrust, and then, in an instant, her whole body tensed, her toes curled, and she was coming, and she cried out, the pleasure tearing from her throat, unable to be contained. She looked down at Gael’s face and saw him studying her, almost reverentially, and wondered if a man had ever looked at her like that before, like a work of art. “That’s good,” he told her, the praise warming her from the inside as he let her wrists go. “That’s very good.”

Her body shuddered with aftershocks. She’d never come that hard, that fast before. And never on command. Never, not once in her life. Mags was always coaxing climaxes from her reticent body. But not with Gael, not here in her bed. He seemed to know exactly what would drive her wild, and she wondered how he’d come about that knowledge, how many hours he’d spent worshipping other women, but then decided she didn’t care.

Already she could feel she would have another one. And maybe yet another. They were queued up in her like candy bars in a vending machine. Gael put his hands on her hips, steering her to a new position. Now he moved to the edge of the bed and stood and tugged her backward so she was on her hands on knees. She was completely vulnerable now, her body was still shuddering from the aftereffects