Fever (Breathless #2)(65)

“Now this is the way a man likes to come home,” he whispered. “His woman waiting on her knees, wanting only to pleasure him. Waiting for his command. Accepting whatever it is he tells her to do. Fuck me, it doesn’t get any goddamn better than this, baby.”

She smiled around his cock, satisfaction gripping her, squeezing her heart until she was breathless. She loved that she affected him this way. That he was so wild for her and that she pleased him as no other woman had.

He thrust hard and then slowed, sliding more gently over her tongue, rubbing the tip over her lips before plunging back inside the wetness of her mouth.

“So beautiful,” he murmured. “And mine. Fucking mine. You belong to me. Only me. No one else will ever have this, what I have, you on your knees, waiting for me to walk out of that elevator. If other men only knew what I had, they’d be jealous sons of bitches. You’re a woman worth fighting for, Bethany. Men would kill to possess what I own, even for an hour.”

His words sank deep and she soaked them up, holding them in the deepest part of her soul. Her chest tightened and her throat knotted, making it hard for her to take his length.

He frowned and then withdrew, leaving only the tip resting on her bottom lip. “You okay?”

She nodded, unable to formulate a coherent response. How could she when she was perilously close to tears? Happy tears. She was overwhelmed and not in a bad way. The very best way. Overcome. She had no idea what to say, how to respond. She could only show him what those words meant to her.

Leaning forward, she took the initiative and sucked him deep but then immediately glanced up, gauging his reaction, to see if her boldness had angered him. He feathered a hand over her cheek and smiled tenderly, almost as if he could read her every thought and knew just how affected she was by all he’d said.

Holding her head in place, he thrust one more time, deeper, pushing to the back of her throat until it convulsed around him. He let out a groan and then released her, pulling his c**k from her mouth. Then he reached down with both hands and curled them around hers, lacing their fingers together. He pulled her carefully to her feet and remained in that one spot for a long moment while he waited to ensure she had her footing.

“To the couch,” he said, his command stronger, holding more of an edge than before. “I want you to lean over the arm, belly down, forehead touching the cushion. Ass in the air and your feet don’t touch the floor.”

She swallowed and did as he’d dictated, positioning herself accordingly. He moved away, his footsteps retreating into the bedroom while she waited eagerly for him to return. When he came back, he carried a length of silken rope. Her arms were already twisted behind her, her hands resting at the small of her back.

He gathered her wrists in his hands and then, holding them firm with one hand, he began to coil the rope around them with the other. Though the rope was soft and nonabrasive, he tied it tight, binding her effectively so she couldn’t move her hands.

“Seeing you this way . . . Baby, I don’t even have words. It’s a sight I’ll dream about at night when you’re in my arms, sleeping next to me.”

His palm rubbed over her ass and then his other hand joined, caressing and then spreading her with both hands until her pu**y was spread wide.

He positioned himself at her opening but paused, holding the tip barely inside.

“I’m not going to be easy,” he warned. “Want you too much, baby. I’m having some pretty dark, caveman thoughts at the moment. This is going to be f**king. Crude, down-and-dirty hard f**king. When I’m done, then and only then, am I going to take care of you. But you don’t come until then. This is for me. After is for you.”

Before she could even process his statement, he drove deep, thrusting inside in one forceful lunge that took her breath away. Her entire pu**y quivered and tingled. Arousal hummed through her veins. Need, craving, stronger than any need for a fix she’d ever experienced. How was she supposed to get through this without orgasming? She was ready to come now. Not whenever he finished slaking his own desires and tended to her afterward.

He gave her a warning smack on the ass when she shook uncontrollably.

“Get it under control, baby. You don’t come yet. Disobey me and I’ll forget all about taking things slow and I’ll put a crop to your ass.”

She groaned in frustration. Instead of dissuading her, his warning only fueled the fires of her lust and she edged ever closer to ultimate release.

She bit into her lip and closed her eyes, focusing intensely on not giving in to her orgasm. It was the hardest thing she’d ever attempted. She was unbelievably aroused and every thrust sent ripples of pleasure cascading through her body.

“Want that ass too,” he growled. “But I’m too close. I’ll f**k it another time.”

Thank God. She wouldn’t last even a minute longer and he was thrusting harder now, growing even larger as he swelled and tightened within her. She squeezed her eyes shut and tightened every muscle in her body to ward off her orgasm. Relief rushed through her veins when he leaned into her, his body covering hers, and his se**n began to coat the walls of her pu**y.

She sagged over the end of the couch feeling wrung out, and she hadn’t even orgasmed. If he so much as touched her, it would be over. Every nerve ending was short-circuiting. Her skin was hypersensitive. Her clit ached and twitched. Just one touch. All he had to do was reach down and touch her and she’d find relief.