Sweet Surrender (Sweet #1)(70)

His words sent her the final distance. Her heart lurched at the tender endearment. Her body exploded in a million different directions. For once, her heart and her mind were in unison with her body. Never had she felt so complete. So satisfied. So content. So convinced that this was where she was supposed to be.

Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks as every single muscle in her body tightened unbearably. And finally her release flooded her, relaxing the tension. She floated, weightless, cradled in his arms.

She became aware of him kissing her ear and murmuring soothing words. And then he tensed against her. He began thrusting impatiently into her, as if he couldn’t get deep enough fast enough.

He whispered her name just as he collapsed onto her body. She gathered him to her, loving the feel of his weight, his heartbeat against her chest.

For a long moment, he lay there, breathing raggedly in her ear. Then he propped himself up and kissed her lingeringly.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked gruffly when he pulled away.

She smiled and caressed his hard jaw with her hand. “You were perfect.”

“There you go looking at me like that again.” He flexed his hips, sliding his still-hard c**k against the walls of her pu**y.

He eased off of her, sliding out of her body in a warm rush of fluid.

“Let me get a towel,” he said. “Stay right there.”

She watched as he walked naked to the bathroom. There was such confidence in his stride. No arrogance. No fake swagger. Just the walk of a man who was supremely confident.

She closed her eyes and relived his lovemaking. Her body was sated. A warm, sleepy glow surrounded her. Ultimate contentment. Pleasure.

The bed dipped again, and he gently spread her legs and pressed the towel to her still quivering flesh. She pried her eyes open to see him watching her.

He tossed the towel aside and climbed up beside her. “I love the look of a well-satisfied woman,” he murmured as he pulled her into his arms. “There’s no bigger rush for a man than to know he’s responsible for putting that kind of look on a woman’s face.”

She snuggled into his chest and wished to hell she could purr like a cat. He wrapped both arms around her and positioned her head on his shoulder. His hand smoothed down her back until he cupped her bottom possessively.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered.

She yawned, only too willing to follow his dictate. As she drifted off, he folded one leg over hers, and she dimly registered that there wasn’t one part of her body that he wasn’t wrapped around in some manner.

She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

CHAPTER 32

In the hazy world between asleep and awake, Faith hovered, content and lethargic. Warm hands glided over her chest then gripped her shoulders. Her eyes flew open just as she flipped over and her face met the pillow.

Both hands were pulled behind her until they met at the small of her back. Gray held them in one hand, and then she felt the rasp of rope coiling around her wrists.

Her heart thudded against the mattress, and her breath came in shallow spurts as she struggled to process what was happening.

When his hands left her wrists, she pulled experimentally, but the rope held tight. She turned her cheek to the pillow and tried to relax, but the excitement stirring in her veins kept her tense with anticipation.

Firm hands kneaded and massaged her bu**ocks. Her legs were spread, and she was exposed. Her ass, her pu**y. And she was helpless against whatever he wanted to do.

She closed her eyes and panted as an adrenaline rush like she’d never experienced crashed through her body.

Where would he take her? Her pu**y? Her ass? Just the idea of him taking her so primitively had her skating precariously close to release.

Her question was answered when he lifted her just enough that he slid into her quivering pu**y. She moaned as he pressed into her, stuffing every inch of his c**k into her tight passage.

He leaned over her, placing his hands on either side of her head. His body covered her as his hips arched into her ass. His tight belly brushed against her bound hands as he worked his c**k back and forth into her body.

His mouth brushed against her ear. “Tell me, Faith, has anyone ever f**ked your ass?” he whispered. “Would I be your first?”

Tiny little goose bumps dotted her arms. “Yes,” she panted.

“Yes, what?”

“You would be the first,” she said in a low voice.

His hips rocked forward, thrusting hard and urgent into her. He made a sound of satisfaction as he nipped at her ear.

“Do you want me to f**k your ass?” he asked. “Does the idea of something so naughty and forbidden turn you on?”

“Yes,” she groaned. “Yes!”

“Do you want me to untie you?” he asked. “Or do you want me to f**k you just like this? Helpless. Unable to move. At the mercy of however I want to take you.”

His erotic words slid over her, tightening every single nerve ending in their wake. His hips stilled as he waited for her answer. She felt full, stretched. How much tighter would he feel in her ass?

He collected her hair in his fist and pulled slightly. “Answer the question,” he directed.

“I want you to f**k me just like this,” she whispered.

His hold loosened, but his hand stayed in her hair, fingering the strands as he resumed the slow, measured thrusts. Then he withdrew.