Angel in Scarlet (Bound and Determined #4)(57)

They ached but not too badly—and there were other parts of her that ached far more. She peered up and realized Colton was staring down at her, his attention focused solely on her mouth.

She wet her lips again and saw his eyes follow her tongue.

Oh, he did mean that. He definitely meant that.

And she had no choice. She was his captive. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry as she focused on him and let her imagination roam.

The drop of seed still clung to the tip, his hand stroking up and down slowly.

She wanted to, but did she dare?

More moisture pooled between her legs as she pulled against her bonds. She was his. If he wished, she would do anything. She was in his power and therefore her decisions were not her own; she was free from worry.

And what did it taste like?

Curiosity formed deep in her mind. Her mouth watered. She could touch him. She could taste him.

Without awaiting further command, she leaned forward and flicked her tongue across the tip.

His whole body jerked.

She licked again. Another jerk.

This time she parted her lips slightly and sucked.

His thighs squeezed about her shoulders, causing her to fall forward, her face pressing against him. She tried to shift but had no leverage, no way to push herself.

Colton’s hands came down upon her shoulders, pushing her—but not all the way. “Open—and no teeth.”

Her breath caught, but she obediently parted her lips. He lowered her again, one hand positioning himself to slip between her lips.

Velvet. He was like velvet. She closed her lips slightly, savoring the experience. Her gaze went up to his. His eyes were half closed and hooded, their intensity almost frightening.

His hands slid from her shoulders, up her neck to cup her cheeks. She opened her mouth, taking him in farther, and then a little more.

An ache grew between her legs as she kept her eyes on his face, his want becoming her want, his need her need.

She slipped more of his hard length between her lips. There was not much more she could take—and she really didn’t know what to do next. Her tongue slid against the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock.

Colton’s hands directed her face to pull back and then forward again. “Wrap your lips tight. Suck. Use your tongue.”

She did her best to comply, her lips closing hard about him, enjoying his thickness, hardness.

He pushed down farther. She opened wider, trying to take more of him, working to time her breathing as he lifted her head. A gasp in and then down again.

The muscles of his thighs pressed tighter, encasing her. She could feel the strain grow in him. His hips began to thrust from the bench, rising to meet her each time she lowered her mouth.

Her whole being became him, his smell, his taste, his feel. Her eyes closed.

She felt the ache in her arms, knew the desire that pooled between her legs, experienced the cold of the stone floor seeping through the tarp, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was Colton; everything was Colton.

His fingers gripped tight in her hair, and tighter still. He urged her to move faster, to take him deeper.

And then his hips rose high even as he pressed her down. She couldn’t breathe.

A moment of panic. And then she forced herself to calm, took all that he had to give. She was his. If he needed this she would surrender; relaxation filled her even as the demands of her own body grew.

His body jerked and stiffened.

Her name filled the folly, not loud, but clear.

She felt the pulse, the spurt, tasted his essence, his seed, swallowing as best she could as the orgasm took him.

His thighs settled back to the bench. She could feel his muscles relax.

A deep breath shuddered through him. He ran a finger across her cheek, stroking the tender flesh. “Turn about,” he ordered. “Let me loose you.”

She stared at him blankly, her mind not catching up with his words.

“Do as I say.” His tone had lost any softness it had, and already he was tucking himself in and fastening his trousers.

With unsteady knees she obeyed, bit by bit.

His hands made quick work of loosening the ropes. The first deep breath filled her lungs.

She started to turn, to tell him of the joy she’d taken in bringing him such pleasure, but his face stopped her.

Cold.

He looked cold, and not because the wind was beginning to gust off the lake.

His eyes focused beyond her.

Her pleasure and fantasy fled.

“Put on your clothes. I’ll help with your laces.” His voice was filled with ice.

“But—”

“Not now; you don’t want anybody to worry after you.”

She stood, praying that her legs would not shake, would not betray her. She hurriedly grabbed her chemise and pulled it over her head. Then her corset. She pulled on the dress and turned, waiting for his touch. She wished that she could have just left. His sudden anger—yes, that was it. He seemed angry. His mood change hurt her far more than she had expected.

How could he ask that of her and then change more quickly than the weather?

The moment he was done, she pulled away and moved to leave.

“Angela…” he began, more softly, and then trailed off.

“What?” she replied.

“Never mind, just go. Be sure you fix your hair.”

She ran, feeling she was leaving a part of herself behind.