Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(111)

A shiver ran through her. “Holt, we should…talk.”

“We will. We’ll have a serious discussion. Very soon.” Her jeans dropped down around her ankles.

Shocked, she stared at him in the dim light of the bedroom. His eyes glinted with laughter and determination, a combination that put flutters inside her stomach.

Slowly, he ran his hands up and down her bare arms and waited, gaze on her face. Giving her a chance to protest. But oh, she’d missed him so badly, missed his hands on her, missed his…control.

After two days of worrying about how to please everyone, now, under his confident gaze, she knew she didn’t have to think. At all. Silently, she leaned into his hands.

A corner of his mouth quirked upward…and he efficiently stripped off her bra and briefs, leaving her naked and him fully clothed.

She was exposed. Totally.

His gaze ran over her, and he cupped a breast. Weighed it. Caressed it.

She flushed from the heat in his eyes. “You’re…still dressed,” she said faintly.

“Noticed that, did you?” His smoky voice held a thread of amusement under the steely control. Setting his other hand on her stomach, he pushed her backward until her thighs bumped the bed—and didn’t stop until she was on her back. He swung her legs up onto the mattress.

“Holt,” she gasped, propping herself up on her elbows.

His raised eyebrow corrected her.

“Sir. You—”

“Shhh.” He lifted her arm and lifted her right wrist over her head.

When he sat back, she couldn’t lower her arm. What? Tilting her head back, she saw a Velcro cuff around her wrist, and even as she realized what he’d done, her left wrist was restrained. She tugged and couldn’t get loose. “What are you doing?”

“Enjoying myself,” he answered. “Pleasing my kinky nature. And yours, as well, I think.” His gaze met hers. “The safewords are still red and yellow, pet.”

Pet. Enjoying himself. Most of the time, his commanding personality was concealed by his easy-going air. But in bed, his true nature came forward—absolutely masculine, utterly self-confident, totally in charge.

When he ran his hands down her bound arms as if to emphasize her helplessness, the bed seemed to sink a foot.

She stared at him.

“I rather like that expression.” Cupping the back of her head, he kissed her, possessing her mouth—not roughly, but with a controlled power that took everything she offered and more.

By the time he moved away, her every protest had vanished.

But when he gripped her left ankle and cuffed it to the bottom bedpost, all sorts of new worries rose. “Holt—uh, Sir. No.”

“Yes.” He walked to the other side of the bed and restrained her right ankle.

Oh, God. She’d seen this kind of bondage in pictures. She was spread-eagled, her arms secured over her head, legs spread widely. Her pussy was open and available for his use.

Her nerves were quaking, even as a disconcerting heat rose within her. Because she trusted him. Whatever he chose to do, he wouldn’t hurt her. He’d not abandon her here or do anything she didn’t enjoy.

Kneeling between her open legs, he leaned forward and brushed his fingertips over her very hard nipples. “I love how you get turned on by being tied down,” he said softly. “Let’s see how far I can go in keeping you this hot.”

Bending down, he licked over one nipple, then the other, wetting them, blowing them to coolness, covering them with his callused hands. His caresses grew more demanding, harder. Bracing himself on an arm, he kissed her—and rolled her nipple between his fingers. Gently. Then more firmly.

She tried to gasp and found the sound blocked by his mouth, his tongue. Shivers ran over her skin as he switched to her other breast, still kissing her. She tried to pull away, to move her hands, but she was spread out like a banquet for him to sample as he chose.

He sucked on her throbbing nipples and laved them with a tender tongue, playing with her until heat suffused her every breath.

After kissing his way down her stomach, he settled between her open thighs. Pressing her labia open, he ran his finger up and down her pussy, coating the area with her own wetness.

Oh God. When she opened her eyes, she saw that even as he touched her, his gaze was on her face, her arms, her hands, her shoulders. Assessing her responses.

He smiled slowly, holding her gaze with his own as he deliberately slid his finger over her clit.

Excitement coursed into every cell of her body.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he said softly, his finger teasing her with circles and light touches.

Before she could start begging for more, he went down on his elbows and bent his head. Delicately, he took her clit between his lips.

The heat of his mouth almost sent her over, and he chuckled. With light pressure, he licked and flicked with his tongue, then sucked in tiny pulls.

Her clit and folds swelled, getting tight and tingling and urgent. Fighting the restraints on her ankles, she tried to raise her hips, to get more.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he murmured. “You get what I want to give. When I want to give it. How I want to give it.” He set his forearm over her pelvis and ruthlessly continued.

Oh, she was getting closer.

Two fingers slid inside her, stretching her, and the increased sensation buffeted her.