Beyond Control(62)

Lex pulled away, heedless of the sharp tug of his fingers in her hair. "You're in control," she gasped.

Dallas stared down at her, his eyes intent. "That an observation or a request?"

The cool, easy words flew right the hell out of her head. "Please."

He moved so fast her head spun. One second she was on her knees, the next he had her up and moving. Three stumbling steps back with him looming over her, only to spin her when her ass bumped the worktable.

His slick shaft jutted against the small of her back. The wooden bench pressed against her hips, just the right height to bend over. But instead of pushing her forward, he curled his fingers in the remains of her tank top and jerked at it. "Arms up."

Anticipation raised goose bumps on her skin, but Lex didn't move.

Growling, Dallas kicked her feet apart. She swayed, and he used her momentary distraction to haul the front of the shirt up and over her head, dragging it to tangle around her upper arms behind her back.

"You can be bad." The words didn't quite cover the sound of leather rasping against denim. His belt sliding free of its loops, one at a time. "You can fight. You know what it'll get you?"

She couldn't hold back her moan. "No, what?"

"Fucked harder." He planted a hand between her shoulder blades and shoved her down until her only option was to turn her head and rest her cheek on the scuffed wooden table.

Just like that, every ounce of her attention was riveted to the sweet pressure of his hand, and how much she could push against it before he eased up. Gave up. She struggled carefully, unwilling to risk losing the heat of him at her back and the rough bite of the bench beneath her.

He laughed and dropped his belt across her lower back, the leather a dangerous threat--or promise. "Is that the best you've got?"

She jerked hard, panting when his splayed hand shoved her closer to the table. "Oh, Jesus." The words escaped her in a hoarse, pleading rasp.

"Not quite," he murmured, sliding his hand up over her shoulder and around her throat. He dragged her upright, her arms trapped between them, and wrenched open her jeans. "But you can pray to me for mercy, if you want."

Lex arched her hips. "You're a tease."

He responded by shoving his hand into her panties, his fingers slicking over her *. "And you're wet. I bet I can get you wetter."

She started to respond, but the hand around her throat began to tighten. At the same time, he grazed her clit with a rough enough touch to send pleasure rippling up her spine.

"Oh, yeah." He whispered the words against her ear as his fingers found a quick, unforgiving rhythm, blunt fingertips slicking back and forth until blood pounded in her ears and her vision blurred. "Such a hot, wet *. If I weren't such a tease, I'd already be f*cking it."

"Dallas--" Lex barely managed to rasp his name before his rhythm quickened. She rocked as much as she could, and it was almost enough.

Almost.

"Declan," he corrected, easing his grip so that she could speak. "Say it. Say it while you're coming."

"De--" Her hips jolted in a shudder that spread through the rest of her along with a blaze of heat that melted her. "Fuck, Declan!"

"Shh," he soothed, keeping her on edge with another clever twist of his fingers. "Sweet, sweet Alexa. My Alexa. Do you trust me?"

A current of fear flowed beneath the words. Lex longed to hold him, but she was trapped against his chest. All she could do was turn her head with a shaky sigh. "I trust you." She rubbed her cheek against his chin. "I love you."

He caught her mouth in one quick, tender kiss, then sharpened it by biting her lower lip with a groan. "Want me to stop teasing?"

More than anything. More than life. "I need it."

One more taunting stroke before his touch vanished, and she was bent over the table again. She stretched her arms against her bonds as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her jeans and panties and hauled both down just far enough to bare her ass. He didn't give her time to savor the anticipation or even think before the broad head of his cock pressed against and then inside her.

No teasing. No mercy. With one hand forcing her to the table and the other bracing her hips, he pushed into her in one raw advance. He felt huge, bigger with her jeans trapping her legs together, and he filled her one relentless inch at a time.

Lex's head spun, all thoughts of struggling to regain control of the situation gone. He'd take what he wanted--and in return give her everything she never knew existed.

As if he sensed her submission, his fingers drifted up to smooth through her hair. He withdrew a few inches before rocking back, pushing deeper and a little harder. "Does it scare you, love? Knowing you're stuck with me?" His hand tightened suddenly, hauling her head back. "Does it scare you to know I'd burn it all to the ground if that'd make you happy?"

Pleasure clashed with satisfaction. "Hell, no." Nothing less would be enough.

He thrust harder, angling to hit all the right spots. "It should. I couldn't let you go. I knew I had to, and I couldn't. I'll be any man you want. A king or a beggar or a farmer or a killer. But I'll never be the man who can let you walk away."

It hurt where he pulled her hair, painful tingles that shimmered down her spine and melted until her body clutched greedily at his cock. "No more leaving," she gasped, a promise and a warning.

And because he was Dallas, because he knew her, he understood both. "What'll you do instead?"

"Make you pay," she growled. "Make you mine all over again."

Groaning, he slapped a hand on the table and bent low enough to speak in her ear. "Your threats get me so f*cking hot."

The angle shifted his thrusts to a subdued grind, and Lex smacked her head back against his shoulder. "Sharp edges, remember?"

"Uh-huh." Every thrust was a little rougher, a little quicker, as if his self-control was fraying at the edges for all the lazy drawl of his words. His body told the truth--the hardness in his tensed muscles, the growing urgency every time his cock plunged into her.

He reached for the knife as he straightened. The tangle of her shirt around her upper arms loosened and fell away, and he jammed the blade back into the table in front of her. Catching her hand, he guided it to curl around the hilt. "If you let go, I'll stop."

"Kinky bastard." She gripped the knife with one hand and the edge of the worktable with the other.

Dark laughter spilled over her as he slapped her ass. "It's not kinky until I tell you to stab me," he corrected.

Before she could respond, he clutched her hips and drove into her so hard that she pitched forward into the table. She bit her tongue, but the pain vanished in an instant, consumed by the fire sparked by his next thrust.

Deep and unforgiving, the kind of merciless f*cking she'd had to coax out of him before. Rough grunts punctuated each thrust, along with the slick sound of his cock slamming into her, their bodies slapping together.

It should have been selfish, Dallas using her body, wrenching his pleasure from it too fast and hard to give her any in return, but his hands held her hips at that desperate angle, and the sparks multiplied, turned to fire.

He cracked one open palm against her hip. "Is this what you wanted?"

Yes. The word didn't come, but she did. The knife wrenched free and clattered to the wood, but Lex couldn't help it. Her entire body shook, trembled on the edge of something more, so she pressed her forehead to the table and whispered his name.

"Christ," he groaned, dragging her back to meet his cock. "I love f*cking your * while you're coming. So f*cking tight and hot."

She swept one arm out, desperate for something to hold on to, and the knife skittered away and flipped onto the floor. "Don't stop--"

"Never," he promised, riding her faster. "I'll never stop f*cking you. Never stop needing you. Loving you."

Something crashed off the pegboard above the table, and the impact vibrated through the wood, up through her body. In the midst of a storm of ecstasy, that small, quiet sensation centered her.

Never stop.

Dallas had always known how to get her off, but this was different. Having him with her--and knowing she always would--tripped something primal deep in her brain. Every nerve ending lit up, and she tensed again with a mounting pleasure that went on and on, tighter and tighter as his movements grew less and less controlled.

A rumbling noise started in his chest, twisting feral possession with satisfaction, and gave way to a string of snarled encouragements, words bitten off between fast jerks of his hips. Things like f*ck yeah and so good, commands that stroked inside her. "Take me," he growled, barely audible over the rattle of the table and the blood pounding in her ears. "Love it. Tell me you love this."

"I love--" Something snapped, just f*cking snapped, and her brain locked down. The waves turned to bolts, lightning strikes that curled her toes and left her gasping for enough breath to scream.