From This Moment On (The Sullivans #2)(36)

Her pulse began to flutter even more wildly at the thought of being laid out over his lap, bared to him from the waist down, his big hand coming down over her skin.

“No.” She shook her head. “Of course not.”

His mouth curved up at the corners at her reaction. But instead of saying anything more about spanking, he said, “What did I ask you to do?”

She suddenly realized that she hadn’t yet taken off her sweater or tank top. She was torn for a split second between leaving them on and risking a spanking—a flood of arousal shot through her at the shocking thought—or doing as he asked.

Fear of the unknown—and of her own surprising desires—had her moving quickly to do as he asked.

When she was naked from the waist up, she lay back against the pillow and started to lift her arms. But even though Marcus was more than a little familiar with her br**sts by now, she was still shy about baring herself to a man like this.

“You’re doing beautifully.”

His sweet words combined with the warmth in his eyes had her finally lifting her arms all the way up.

She expected him to touch, to fondle, to taste. Instead, he simply looked at her, for so long that she almost started begging. Finally, he surprised her by picking up her sweater and tying it around her wrists.

“Try to move your hands so I can see how tight that is.”

His voice was husky, rich with desire. She moved her arms and found the binding to be soft against her skin, and yet, she knew she’d have to work quite hard if she wanted to be set free.

Two days ago, she would have sworn she would never let herself be put in a position like this. She should be pulling free. But she didn’t want to, did she?

As if he were privy to the silent questions she was asking herself, Marcus said, “Tell me what you need, Nicola. Tell me what you want.”

He put his hands on her waist, his tanned skin dark against her pale belly. She shivered at how small she was compared to him, at the knowledge that he could do anything he wanted to her right now, that she was completely helpless against his strength. Those thoughts shouldn’t have made her more aroused. But, shockingly, they did.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll just have to guess,” he said before leaning over her bare torso. His hair tickled the underside of her chin as he pressed his mouth to her shoulder for just long enough that she was seared with his heat before he sat back.

She wasn’t used to voicing her sexual needs, but they were strong enough that she forgot all about keeping her hands above her head. She started to reach for him before remembering her hands were bound.

By Marcus.

Obviously seeing the flare of desire in her eyes, he said, “That’s right, kitten. You’re all mine to play with right now, aren’t you?”

Seriously, for all that she portrayed a sex bomb for the world, she was a feminist. Girl power was her thing. She should be freaking out right now.

Not practically coming at the thought of being all his to play with.

“This isn’t—” She didn’t know how to tell him what she was feeling, but somehow she knew it was important that she did. “I shouldn’t be feeling like this.”

“Tell me what you’re feeling."

His low voice that rumbled over her, through her, made her want to give up all her secrets, all her desires that she hadn’t even known were there, waiting to be uncovered this whole time.

“This isn’t me. I don’t like being bossed around.”

She swore he almost smiled and strangely, instead of being angered by it, instead of feeling like he was laughing at her, it made her feel like maybe she wasn’t so weird after all to be liking these things he was saying—and doing—to her.

“Am I bossing you around?”

She was about to say yes, when she realized it wasn’t precisely true. “You tell me to do things,” she whispered, unable to look at him now, feeling more shy than she ever had before. “I shouldn’t do them.” She could feel how hot her face was. “I shouldn’t like doing them.”

His fingers slid beneath her chin and gently tipped her face back up to his. “I love watching you respond to me. I love watching the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen tremble with desire in front of me. I love hearing you beg me to touch you, to kiss you, to take you.”

Everything he’d just said, the rough quality of his voice as he said it, had her shivering with lust. But still, she felt she should try one last protest, one last bid for sanity. “But I’m the one who usually tells people what to do.”

“Have you thought that maybe this is the break you’ve been waiting for?” he said softly. “That this is the chance to let someone take care of you for a few hours, instead of having to take care of everything yourself?”

Her brain felt fuzzy with desire, but even so, what he was saying made sense.

“Touch me now, Marcus. Kiss me.” She paused, gathering up all her courage. “Take me.”

The next thing she knew, she was laid out flat and Marcus was over her, his large body pressing hers into the cushions. He made sure her bound hands remained over her head with one of his while the other moved between her legs at the exact moment that he covered her breast with his mouth.

She arched into his touch, their conversation about how much he liked telling her what to do and how much she liked doing it—not to mention the massage before that—more than enough foreplay to prime her for even the slightest touch.