Wicked Ties(53)

Again, a bare pause before she complied. Satisfied for now, he tossed the garments in the chair. When he turned back to Morgan, he saw her tongue swipe across her pillowy mouth again.

Damn it, the woman tested his patience and self-control. Now, this first time under his domination, he had to take total charge of Morgan. There could be no vacillation. He could show no weakness, no lack of control, only a reassurance that brooked no refusal.

Asserting his dominance was key to persuading her to listen to her body. It was the only way he could take her from that bastard Brandon. Then, after a hard f**k, after her complete surrender, after she admitted she needed a dominant man and left her backstabbing fiancé, he’d be satisfied.

“On your knees, cher.”

Her gaze flew to his, her blue eyes filled with an interesting mixture of panic and lust. She was processing his request, trying to discern what he wanted…but she knew.

Just as he knew she might use the safe word rather than take him in her mouth. The thought chafed him. He wanted— needed—to feel her tongue caressing his cock, her lips stretching wide to take him. To see her bowing, submissive, accepting, aroused.

“Sir?”

“I didn’t give you permission to speak. Either follow the directions or use the safe word.”

A pinched mouth and the downward slant of fire-red brows told him without words that she was rebellious and frustrated. But her eyes, still sharp with desire, told him she was torn.

That expression encompassed everything he loved about looking at her, being with her. Her dichotomy—an innocent’s experience with a wanton’s needs—drove him to dangerous lust. A consuming desire he couldn’t remember ever feeling before. This went beyond the psychological high of controlling, beyond the pure physical ease of a woman’s body. In this moment, he wanted to own her, inside and out, rule her body and seize her soul.

Suddenly, Jack wondered if he’d be able to f**k Morgan enough to get her out of his system before he let her go.

Finally, she cast her gaze down—and dropped slowly to her knees.

She was so close, Jack could feel her exhalations on his jeans-covered cock. It took every ounce of self-control not to rip at his pants and toss them away, so he could feel her breath, her mouth, on him. Lust throbbed even harder through his erection at the thought.

“Better. As a reward, you may speak. What is it, Morgan?”

“I don’t know much about o**l s*x.”

“How do you know that’s what I want?”

“I assumed. If that is what you want, I think you should know, the one time I did it, he didn’t…”

“Come in your mouth?”

A fresh flush stole up her cheeks. “No.”

The information blasted Jack in the gut like a prize fighter’s punch. So even straightlaced Brandon hadn’t availed himself of this beauty’s sin-inspiring mouth. He knew from this morning’s encounter against the door that the idea excited her. He wanted Morgan to experience acts that aroused her. But the notion of being the first man to fill her tongue with his seed made his balls draw up even tighter, the lust crashing through him even more urgent. It was primitive and possessive and illogical, but something in him responded violently to the knowledge that no other man had ever taken her in such a way.

A glance down told him that Morgan wasn’t repulsed by his demand, but uncertain. Her anxiety made her lapis eyes stand out in her pale face. She chewed her bottom lip nervously.

“My responsibility in dominating is not just to order you around. It’s to pleasure you. To guide you. It starts with trust. You must place yours in me, cher. I will see you through, provide whatever you need. Do you understand?”

Morgan’s gaze left his face, traveled down his torso, then rested on the insistent erection pushing against his jeans, right in front of her face. Her tongue peeked out to smooth over her bottom lip again.

Jack drew in a sharp breath, reeling back the thoughts that, soon, her pretty pink tongue could be laving the head of his cock. Lust twisted his gut, turning it into unbreakable knots of need. Merde! He was testing her as much as he was torturing himself.

“Yes…sir.”

He barely managed to mumble a reply before he unsnapped his jeans and eased down the zipper. His c**k sprang free, into his hand. He slowly stroked the length of it for her gaze. Morgan zeroed in on his hard flesh, her expression uncertain and hot. She wanted to touch him; her face, like a kid with her face pressed against a candy store window, told him that. Fisting his cock, he waited, watching her greedy eyes follow his hand.

When a drop of moisture beaded on the head of his c**k and she licked her lips at the sight, Jack eased his free hand around her head, anchoring it under her hair. The soft strands fell over his fingers like silk as he cupped her nape. He thumbed the soft skin at the side of her jaw and slowly urged her forward.

“Suck me, Morgan. Take me deep.”

Closer, closer, her mouth came to his cock. Her gaze flew up to his, connecting, locking with his own as she edged in. Jack held his breath. God, he couldn’t look away from her, couldn’t stop watching those sensual red lips part to take him inside. Felt a f**king fever rage through him as he imagined how hot and silky her mouth would be.

Finally, she enveloped the swollen head, still seeping moisture. Her gaze never wavered as her lips closed around him and her tongue swept across his sensitive underside, sending a blinding jolt of pleasure screaming up his spine. He gritted his teeth to capture the moan threatening to spill.