Letting Go (Surrender Trilogy #1)(43)

She frantically searched her mind, frustrated by how frighteningly blank it was. Damn it! How hard could a safe word be to think of? No? Stop? Those wouldn’t do. They were words she might cry out in the heat of the moment and not mean them. It had to be unmistakable. Something that would stop him in his tracks, though she couldn’t imagine ever wanting him to stop.

“Ghost,” she finally croaked out.

If it surprised him, he didn’t show it. No emotion flickered in his eyes. Would he object to her using a mention of her husband when they were in bed making love together?

“Ghost it is,” he said in a strained voice. “You say that word and I stop no matter how far into it we are. Trust me, Joss. I’ll stop no matter how hard it may be. I’ll protect you. I swear it.”

She reached up to caress the hard line of his jaw. “I trust you, Dash.”

He kissed her hard, breathless, every bit of his pent-up desire unleashed in that single moment. It was like a violent thunderstorm, one that excited her. There was no fear. No hesitation. She wanted this. Wanted it so much she ached, she hurt.

“I hurt, Dash,” she whispered, voicing the fleeting thought in her mind. “Make it stop. Make love to me. Make it all stop.”

His gaze grew tender once more, his breaths ragged and filled with the same edgy pain she herself was experiencing. He was as desperate for this as she was.

“I’ll make you feel good, honey. I’ll make it good for both of us.”

THIRTEEN

DASH carried Joss up the stairs, impatience simmering in his veins. He kept telling himself to take things slow. No matter what Joss said—demanded—no matter how much she said she wanted him not to hold back, he tempered his urges, not wanting to f**k this up. Not when he finally held all he desired in his arms.

He gently deposited her onto the bed and stood back, staring down at her gorgeous body. Her eyes were drugged and heavy with desire. Yearning. Her hair was splayed out over his pillow and her body. God, she was beautiful. She’d said she hurt, that she ached, but God, so did he.

His dick was about to come out of his pants. He wouldn’t be surprised if his erection tore right through his jeans.

He had to be patient because if he wasn’t careful, the minute he touched her, the moment he finally got inside her, he’d come violently and it would all be over within thirty seconds.

He wanted this to be f**king perfect. He wanted to tease and torment Joss until she was desperate for release. Though she’d said she wanted him not to hold back, she wanted his dominance, wanted him to exert his control and authority over her from the start, he knew he couldn’t do it. Not yet.

This first time had to be perfect. He wanted to lavish his love on her. He wanted to make love to her. There would be plenty of time for sweaty, mindless f**king, but no, even when he allowed himself to lose his tightly leashed control, it wouldn’t be f**king. It would never be something so crude with Joss.

When they made love, no matter the circumstances, whether she was bound and helpless or if he flogged her pretty ass until it was rosy with his marks, it would be something beautiful. Just as beautiful as she was.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he breathed.

Always he was in control. His restraint was something that never failed him. He was confident in his abilities to please the woman he was with. He never faltered. Never hesitated. But now? He felt like he was making love for the first time in his life. That he was an untried virgin with no idea what to do with the veritable feast of womanhood that lay before him.

As he pondered those thoughts, the realization came that this was, in fact, the first time for him. His first time to make love. His first time to have sex when his emotions, his heart, were involved. He’d never been in love with the women he’d been with.

Desired them? Yes. Aroused? Absolutely. But his heart had never been involved to the extent it was with Joss. He was terrified of doing the wrong thing. Of touching her wrong. The pressure he put on himself was overwhelming. The fear of failure. Of not making this as perfect as he wanted.

It was a hell of a position to be in. His heart’s desire within touching distance and he was too afraid to take the plunge.

Joss, sweet, loving Joss seemed to know exactly what he was thinking—feeling. She smiled and extended her hand, an invitation for him to come to her.

“It’s all right, Dash,” she said, her smile as soft as her silky skin. “I’m nervous too. But we’ll get through this together. I trust you to make it beautiful—perfect. How could it be anything else between us?”

He let out a groan, pissed at himself for allowing his uncertainty to show. Some Dominant he was when he was paralyzed with fear over touching her.

Then he lowered his body to hers, allowing his weight to press down on her, but he propped himself up on his forearms so he wouldn’t crush her. She was tiny and delicate, so much so that she looked as though she could be broken if handled too roughly. But it wasn’t her body he was most concerned about. It was her heart. Her emotions. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. He didn’t want her to fear him. Never that. Anything but that. He couldn’t bear it if she ever looked at him with fear in her beautiful eyes.

Holding himself up on one arm, he traced the lines of her face with his free hand, committing to memory every second of this first time. He could scarcely comprehend that she was finally his. That she was in his bed, naked, and that he’d be making love to her in just moments.