Denial (Careless Whispers #1)(86)

“But you can. Even after you say yes.” He cups my face and repeats those words. “Even after you say yes.”

“I know.”

“Now your promise.”

“I promise.”

He kisses me, a deep caress of his tongue against mine that entices, seduces, but I taste the gentleness in him, the worry, that places him, and us, so far from his version of “dirty” I am not sure we can find it again. “Don’t you dare coddle me,” I demand, shoving against his chest and grabbing the silk sash he’s allowed to fall to the floor. “Tie me up.”

“Not tonight.”

“Yes, damn it. Tonight. You promised me a new memory, and I want it. Don’t take that from me.”

“Ella—”

“I need to face my fears. I need to know he doesn’t win.”

His expression tightens, his eyes probing mine, searching. I hold out my wrists. “Trust,” I say. “I’m giving it to you. Take it.”

“I want far more trust than I’m sure you should give me.”

“What does that mean?”

His chest expands, thick lashes lowering, forming dark circles on his cheeks, my eyes lingering there a moment, and I think . . . I think the past he’s talked about being a part of us has found its place in this moment, and for him that is guilt, and mistrust of himself.

“I trust you,” I whisper, holding out my hands.

He doesn’t look at me but he shackles my wrists, easily holding them with one hand while he twines the silk around them with the other. And when his gaze finally collides with mine, the man I want and need is back within reach, darker flecks of blue heating the pale blue of his stare. “It’s loose enough that you can slide out of it if you absolutely want to. Next time it won’t be.”

The way he says ‘next time it won’t be’ sends an erotic thrill down my spine. I don’t know why or how it is possible, but being at Kayden Wilkens’s mercy is sexy and exciting, not terrifying. Not about fear and degradation. “Understand?” he asks, and it’s more than a question. It’s a clear opportunity for me to use the word no he has stressed is mine to own and control.

“Yes,” I say, choosing the word to send a message. I’m making my choice, and trusting him is that choice.

“Be clear, Ella. I’m going to push tonight. Not the way I’m capable of pushing you, but you won’t argue with me on that.” He tightens his grip around my hands. “You will not win that war. Now you say ‘yes.’ ”

“Yes,” I whisper, the absoluteness in him too intense to fight.

“That time will come, and I’m not ready yet to find out how you’ll react. Not because of some man in your past. Because of me. Because right now, I don’t deserve that kind of trust.”

“Kayden—”

He kisses me, fingers twining roughly, erotically in my hair, and I taste the demons of his past, the inner war he battles but will not fully allow me to fight with him. I lean into him, trying to feel him close, but he is quick to deny me that touch, and almost as if he is punishing me for trying, he tears his mouth from mine, leaving me panting for the more that is now out of reach.

He moves behind me, the thick ridge of his erection nestling between my thighs, pressing into the silky wet heat of my sex, teasing me with how easily he could be inside me. And I want him inside me. His hands caress up and down my sides, leaving me cold where he is not touching and hot where he is. I arch into him, my breasts thrusting in the air, a silent plea for his hands, but I am granted only a side brush, a light tease of fingers on my pebbled nipples. A soft brush of fingers on my clit never fully realized.

“Kayden,” I whisper, squeezing my thighs around his shaft, the need for everything when he gives me so little pure torture I can do nothing to resolve.

“Lean forward,” he urges, a command in his voice. “Elbows on the rug.” He doesn’t give me time to digest the order, pressing me forward, hand flattening on my back, the position thrusting my backside into the air, leaving me vulnerable and exposed, but there is no time to think of what might happen. He cups my backside, caressing me over and over, and his words play in my mind. I will tease you. Bite you. Spank you. As if he is in my head, his palm lifts and comes back down with a fast smack that is not painful, but shocking, and has me yelping and trying to sit up. But that hand of his is back on my spine, holding me down.

“Trust,” he says. “Do I have it or not?”

I bite my bottom lip, willing my heart rate to calm. He hasn’t hurt me. Not even close, and I whisper, “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

He smacks the other cheek. Not a spanking. No pain. Just a slight sting that delivers an erotic thrill and the promise of so much more, if not now, soon. Too soon. Not soon enough. My sex clenches fiercely and I want the hidden part of him he still denies, but I know he will not give it to me tonight. He will not rush this and as much as I want to change that, there is safety, there is trust I can give him, in knowing he is being cautious with me.

His hands drag up and down my sides, and then finally, his body curves around mine, and he is hot and hard between my thighs, sliding the head of his cock along the slick line of my sex. “I need—”

“I know what you need,” he promises, but he does not give it to me. He slides his shaft back and forth, the nerve endings he is touching lighting up like the fire burning in front of me. I sink lower into the rug, weaker with need, and finally, finally, he presses into me, driving deep and fast, his cock finding the farthest part of me and staying there. He isn’t moving, and I am panting to the point I can barely breathe when finally he pulls back and thrusts hard into me. And oh God, that one hard pump and already I am on the edge of orgasm. Another thrust and I push against him, his only reply his hand bracing my hips, his cock nudging left, right, deeper, before he starts a fast, hard pumping rhythm. I lose time. I lose the room. The rug. The silk at my hands. I climb that peak of pleasure and tip over far too fast, all but collapsing as my body clenches around him. His hand flattens on my belly, holding me up, and then he is shaking, shattering with me, the deep, guttural sound he makes a sexy, erotic charge that ripples through me.