“What the fuck are you doing to me?” he growled, his eyes piercing mine. My heart flurried like a blizzard, glittering with ice and snow even as it melted and shot hot blood to my core.
I honestly had no answer. “I have the same question,” I murmured, transfixed on his mouth. My eyes went heavy at the thought of his tongue slinking with mine.
He stopped breathing as the room turned thick with awareness. The same need sprang vicious and consuming and his hips went from rocking to a blatant thrust. I swallowed my moan as his erection bruised my pussy.
“I have to go,” he murmured. “Business.”
“To organize the transaction to get rid of me, you mean.” I tried so damn hard to keep the fear from my voice but failed.
He bit his lip, almost as if he reacted more to my vulnerability than my strength. “That was the order, yes.”
Throwing everything away and using every trick to change his mind, I grabbed his hips, pulling him hard against me. “Don’t.” Raising myself on my tiptoes, I kissed him.
He sucked in a breath; his hand swooped up to capture my chin and jerk me away from his mouth. His forehead furrowed as we stood staring, not breathing, not talking—just staring.
His pupils dilated as time ticked passed. My lips tingled to feel his again and my fingers curled around his hipbones, wanting to pierce his flesh and cause him pain. Cause him to feel—to see if I could get him to snap out of the walking anger-armor he wore so well.
His grip never relaxed on my chin. Who would break first? Who would look away or admit defeat? Before I could decide, his head bowed and his lips met mine in a featherlight kiss. His eyes remained open and I didn’t blink as he tilted his mouth to press deeper. The kiss changed, dancing with eroticness and the softness he ran from.
Slowly, his eyes hooded and I allowed mine to close. Cutting off my sight but granting every other sense to take over.
With a groan, he held my face immobile, his firm lips demanding me to respond.
So I did.
I threw myself into the kiss. The tip of my tongue sought entry to his mouth and he jerked against me.
He gave up. His body fell forward, crushing me against the wall, and his fingers dropped from my chin to my throat.
I moaned as his lips opened, dragging my taste into his soul, sharing his flavor in return. His breath was hot and crisp with mint, the black desire I’d sensed in the changing room swirling angrily beneath his restraint.
His head twisted, his heart galloping against mine. “Fuck.” He poured the curse down my throat. His hips drove against me, pinning me against the wall.
I couldn’t stop my hands from sliding up his back, adoring the bunch and strain of his muscles, to tug on the long strands of his hair. I pulled, jerking his neck back, deliberately taking the kiss to a more passionate place.
“Fuck!” he groaned again as my tongue dueled with his and our pace increased to out of control. Our breathing and sanity snapped and the only thing I was aware of was hands, lips, and slippery dances of tongues.
“I want you,” he panted.
“I want you,” I begged.
“My way. The only fucking way.”
I nodded. “Any way. I don’t care.”
Then I was alone, my nipples slicing through the suddenly cold air and my mouth lonely for his heat.
He disappeared from the room. The only sound was the roar of my heartbeat and harsh breathing. Then he came back, returning with a hard expression and a spreader bar with cuffs. Storming to the bed, he raised an eyebrow. “You want me. You let me do this. I want to plunge inside you. I want to feel you come around my cock. But I don’t want anything in return.”
I shivered as lust skittered down my spine.
His voice lowered as he waved the bar. “I don’t want your hands stroking me, or your eyes watching me. I don’t want your lips on my skin, or your body against mine. This is the only way I’ll take you a second time. Give me that control, and I’ll give you what you want.”
Drifting toward the bed, I couldn’t take my eyes off the bar. “That isn’t what I want.”
His eyes flared. A singular cryptic look flickered over his face.
Looking up through my eyelashes, I whispered, “I want to touch you. Everywhere.”
“I want you to touch me. Everywhere,” he said, pulling his T-shirt over his head. His chest was well formed, sinewy muscles creating a treasure trove for my eyes. He had a splattering of dark hair that disappeared into his jeans, turning him from boy to man.
My stomach flipped in awe and anticipation.
“Everywhere?” I asked, my fingertips aching to obey.
He smiled softly. “Everywhere. Don’t leave a place untouched. I’m all yours.”
“No touching,” Kill growled, dispelling my memory. He shook the spreader bar. “It’s this or nothing.”
Fear squeezed my heart. Being restrained couldn’t be any worse than not remembering anything. My mind had trapped me well before him. And I wasn’t fearful of being captured or hurt—I was already his prisoner; what did a pair of cuffs matter? I doubted I had any true fear unless it was from fire. But I’d yet to test that theory.
I didn’t fear him—not in that way. He was a brutal lover but he wasn’t a sadist. He had boundaries that I could trust.
Let him.
Let him do this so you can earn another day by his side.
Cocking my chin, I stepped forward with my hands balled. “You can bind me on one condition.”
His lips twitched into half a smile. “You’re not in a position to make demands.”
I reached behind my back and unclasped my bra. Dangling it from my finger, I raised an eyebrow. “You want me as much as I want you. Don’t lie and deny it.”
His eyes couldn’t look anywhere but at my breasts. Ink or natural—he didn’t seem to care as he drank in my half-nakedness. “Fine. What’s your condition?” His erection pressed against his jeans, and pain and annoyance lit up his gaze.
“Don’t sell me. Whoever was on the phone? Don’t listen. Keep me here. With you. Like you promised when I saved your life.”
He stopped breathing. “You’re using your body to barter with me? You have no fucking shame.”
That hurt, but I ignored the sting. “I’m asking for more time. I’m asking for what you owe me. The willingness to sleep with you isn’t a payment—it’s as much for my enjoyment as it is yours.”
Unzipping my skirt, I stepped out of it as it slithered to the floor. “I’m only asking you to keep your side of the bargain.”
He bit his lip as his erection leapt in his trousers. His stomach tensed as he said, “You’re making this sound like an agreed contract. There were no rules. No conditions.”
I didn’t reply, hooking my fingertips in the top of my G-string and wiggling my hips in invitation. “Do you accept?” My voice had turned to husk and allure, sending a scattering of goose bumps over my skin to realize how sexual I’d become.
Had I always been confident or was this new?
It was so hard to know who I was when faced with a situation such as this. Was it just survival making me lust for my kidnapper, or my mind drip-feeding me tales of a boy who held the same impossible traits as Arthur Killian?
He swallowed hard as I took another step, his throat contracting. He never took his eyes from my lingerie-covered core but his decision blazed true in their depths.
Holding up the bar, he nodded once.
I closed the distance between us, tensing against the heat from his body and the tingling awareness of being so close. “Where do you want me?” I murmured.
“Lie on your back,” he ordered.
I did as he asked, unashamed of my seminaked body as I climbed onto the bed and crawled to the center. Somehow my scars and ink gave me sanctuary. They gave me a place to hide even while being so incredibly vulnerable. Rolling onto my back, I tried to control my breathing as Kill hunted after me on all fours.
In the time it’d taken me to get into position, he’d removed his T-shirt and discarded his jeans. His black boxer-briefs failed to hide his massive erection.
Climbing over my body, he straddled me with power.
“Hold out your arm,” he whispered.
I did as I was told, placing my wrist into the soft, supple cuff. With a fierce look, he buckled it quickly, sliding the spreader bar through his hands until my arm was outstretched. “Raise them.”
I settled back onto the mattress and placed my arms above me. Kill straddled me higher, his hard cock coming within centimeters of my mouth. He looked magnificent—a long-haired rebel with a mermaid smiling her secret smile on his leg.
My breathing turned to pants as my core clenched. I could stare at his perfect body all day and still want more. I wanted to lick the deliciously formed Vs of his stomach. I wanted to trace the shadows of muscles and press kisses on his inner thighs.
So much he denied himself by tying me up. Touch was the greatest thing a human could enjoy—it was better than sex. Touch could be anything from consoling to inspiring—to go through life without being caressed by another? My heart hurt for him.
“Do you ever let anyone touch you?” I whispered as he strapped my other wrist with a cuff, locking the bar in the center to keep it from contracting. The pressure of being spread stretched my shoulders. It felt nice, for now, but I knew it would begin to ache very quickly. He’d tightened it so there was no room to move or wriggle.