Grounded (Up in the Air, #3)(22)



I gave a little yelp as the chains began to clank again, drawing me up until I was right on the balls of my feet. I had no leverage in this position, no control whatsoever. My eyes closed as I felt James at my back again. He pushed me hard against the glass. “I’m going to f*ck you against the glass, but you don’t get to come until you’re looking into my eyes.”

I whimpered, because I didn’t want to wait, because I was already on that fine edge, ready to come, and because I wouldn’t, not without his permission.

He gripped my hips, tilting them back so that my breasts pressed harder into the glass. My cheekbone stung where it dug into the window, but I just didn’t care.

He drove into me, stopping only halfway inside of me, and I moaned a protest. He worked the rest of the way in slowly, agonizingly, working my hips with his hands to control every inch of me that he penetrated.

He put his mouth to my ear when he hit the end of me, grinding hard. “Now remember, you don’t get to come until I’ve turned you around.”

I had some evil thoughts about the sadistic bastard as he began to pound against me, his hips slapping against my ass with the heavy movements. I could have come, wanted to come, within the first few thrusts, but he didn’t relent, dragging himself out then driving back in with fast thrusts. I cried out against the glass as he moved behind me, against me, inside me.

He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, thrusting relentlessly. I thought my body would betray me and ignore his command, my release building so powerfully that I didn’t know how to stop it.

He wrenched out of me, turning me on the chain with surprising ease. It must have been what the thing was designed for.

He gripped my hair in one hand, tilting my head back to look at his eyes straight on. His other hand moved to my ass. He pushed himself inside of me with the smoothest motion. He thrust once, twice, three times, and I was going over the edge.

“Come,” he grunted, but I was already lost. I knew my eyes showed my need for him, that vulnerable, raw thing that had become my feelings for him. His eyes were so tender, so loving as they absorbed the look in mine. It was a perfect and terrifying moment of absolute clarity. I’d never go back from this. I would be as lost as Lana if this ended, pining hopelessly for this man, if it all went up in flames.

The thought should have made me want to withdraw from him. My sense of self-preservation had been perfectly healthy before I’d met James, and I wondered now if it had deserted me completely, but as I came back down from my own little slice of heaven, I found it hard to summon up the energy to care.





[page]CHAPTER EIGHT

Mr. Damaged





He unfastened me swiftly, cradling me against him. He laid me on the couch, crawling on top of me. He smiled down into my eyes, his dark golden hair framing his face. He looked like an angel.

“We’re going to need a new divan in here. This one is covered in paint,” he said softly, but not like he minded.

I shook my head, running a hand along his cheek and into his hair. “No. This room is going to see a lot more painting sessions. I say we leave it.”

He smiled, a joyful smile, the most carefree expression I’d ever seen on his perfect face. “I love the sound of that. Have I told you today how happy you make me? I can never go back from this, Bianca. It would break me to let you go. You know that, right?” Had he read my mind?

I felt a tear slide down my cheek, then another. What was it about being in love that had turned me into a baby? I didn’t know, but I couldn’t seem to stop it, whatever it was, no more than I could stop the being in love part. I had fought it every step of the way, but that hadn’t helped, not even a little. I had it bad. So bad.

“I wouldn’t know how to go back from this, James,” I said in a whisper. It was perhaps the closest thing to making a long-term commitment that I’d ever given to him, paltry as it was. But he knew what I’d given him, and he accepted it with such a loving promise in his eyes that I couldn’t be sorry for it.

“If you could pick one place in the world that you want to visit, any city, any country, any continent, where would it be?”

I studied him, my brows drawing together as I tried to follow his strange thought process. I didn’t even have to think to have my answer, though. “Japan. Especially Tokyo.”

He looked a little puzzled. “That was a quick but unexpected answer. Why Japan?”

I gave my little shrug, though it wasn’t quite the same with him pinning me to the bed. “It just fascinates me. It always has. And it is the home of manga and anime.”

He grinned. “Of course. Okay, Japan, especially Tokyo. Got it.”

I jabbed a finger into his chest. “Why? What are you planning?”

“Nothing yet, but in a few weeks, maybe a month, I want us to get away for a week or two.”

That sounded divine, but… “James, I can’t take any more time off work. I used it all up with my…injuries.”

He gave me an imploring look.

I caved in a heartbeat.

“You just need to find someone to pick up your shifts, right?” he asked. “You can drop as many as you want, if you find someone else to work them. Stephan explained it to me. Leave it to me. I’ll handle everything. Just say you’ll go.”

I should have said no. I should have told him that yes, I could drop the shifts, but it was really hard to find people to pick them up at straight time, when they could be working overtime for similar shifts, not to mention that if I dropped those shifts, I wouldn’t be making any money for those days. I meant to tell him all of that, but instead I looked into his eyes and just caved. “Yes. I can’t think of anything I’d love more.”

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