Demand (Careless Whispers #2)(56)

“Oh God. Now?”

“Now.” He starts caressing my backside again, back and forth. “Are you ready?”

“Kayden—”

“Ella, say it. Are you—”

“Yes,” I pant out. “I’m ready.”

And then he does it.

One. Oh God. It stings, and sends spikes of pleasure through my sex and up my spine.

Two. Blood rushes in my ears.

Three. Four. Five.

It’s done and he presses inside me, his thick cock stretching me, entering me. His hand flattens on my belly, and he thrusts hard, burying himself in the deepest part of me, an explosion of sensations erupting in my body, consuming me. He is consuming me. I arch into him and his fingers slide to my clit, his cock pumping and pumping, and every nerve ending in my body is on fire. And the world fades, leaving only him inside me, his cock stroking me, his hand stroking me, the sensations . . . so many sensations, that sweet spot building and building until it’s just there. I stiffen and suck in air, my sex clenching around Kayden, spasms erupting so fiercely that they make my body quake.

One of Kayden’s hands closes around my breast while the other anchors my hip. He pulls me into a deep, pulsing thrust, the wet, warm heat of his release filling me in so many ways. Seconds tick by or minutes, I do not know, and slowly we both sink into the rug and each other. Kayden envelops me with his body, his cheek finding mine. “How are you?” he asks.

“I’m good.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Positive.”

“I’m going to get you a towel.”

“Thank you.”

He kisses my temple, the way he did at the party. Tender. Loving. Then he pulls out of me and stands. I breathe in on the tight ball forming in my chest. The song is still playing, but I don’t think of the other man when I hear it. I think of Kayden holding me, spanking me, f*cking me, and I know the gift he has given me is freedom. I will never hear this song again and think of anything else.

Kayden returns, sliding a towel between my legs, and then something cold rests on my hip. I look down and find my bracelet lying against my naked skin. My hand closes around it, and I face Kayden, finding him in sweatpants and holding a black silk robe.

“I hated taking this off.” Tears prickle my eyes and I turn away. “I’m going to cry, and I don’t know why. But it’s not about what we did, or you.”

He moves in front of me, wrapping my robe around me. “It’s the adrenaline from the spanking. You’re trembling. Put your arms in.” I do as he says, and he reaches down and ties it for me before repeating what he said earlier. “Adrenaline seems to wipe out everything, yet it somehow forces you to deal with it at the same time.”

“How is crying ‘dealing with it’?” I swipe at a tear that escapes. “I still don’t know who he is.”

“This wasn’t about you remembering him. It was about not giving him the control.” His lips curve. “And giving me an excuse to spank you when I want to.”

“That’s not going to happen.” I laugh.

“Never?” he asks, turning somber. “Did you not like it?”

“It was . . . I . . .” Blood rushes to my cheeks.

“You can say anything to me, Ella.”

“That’s the point. I believe I can, and it seems I can do anything with you, and it’s good. And it was kind of sexy.”

“Trust is what’s sexy.” He takes the bracelet from me and wraps it around my wrist. “I want that in every way for us.” He closes his hand around the bracelet. “This was my mother’s.”

I look up at him. I’m stunned and honored.

“I didn’t give it to Elizabeth, Ella. Kevin left it in my inheritance with a note. But he didn’t give it to me, even when he knew I was going to marry her.”

“He was The Hawk. You weren’t.”

“But I was the successor and she was supposed to be my wife.”

“What are you saying?”

“He called her a delicate flower and said delicate flowers don’t survive. She didn’t survive.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“You didn’t cry from the adrenaline rush,” he says, giving me whiplash with the apparent change of topic. “Most people would have, especially with the baggage you’re carrying.”

“Most people didn’t have a father who made a habit of screaming in their faces to shoot straighter, run harder, and suck it up.”

“I don’t want you to have to shoot straighter, run harder, or suck it up—but the truth is, I need you to do those things.”

“I am those things. Kayden.”

“I know you are.” He holds out his right arm, displaying the tattoo of a box with the king’s chess piece inside, reading the script tracking a line up his powerful forearm. “?‘Once the game is over,’?” he says, “?‘the king and the pawn go back in the same box.’?”

“In life and death we are equal,” I say, and realize I said once before.

He catches my arm at the elbow, resting my bare skin on top of the saying on his arm. “How did you know that?”

“My father,” I say, once again knowing something for no definable reason.