Page 11 of Wild Card

Chapter Three

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She wasn’t sure she could last until the whole tie-me-up part. By the time she’d stripped to nothing but her panties, Sam’s gaze, matched in sensuality by his growls, had her pussy pulsing to the point of abject sensitivity. She was damn certain that once she took that last garment off, he’d be watching her come apart in the middle of the bed. The man himself didn’t help, having gone naked except for his pants. Every inch of his shoulders, arms, chest and abs were as ripped as she’d imagined, even showing off distended veins.

Unbelievably, she survived. With her heart turning her chest into a rave party, she slipped the underwear free, and prepared to give it the same saucy toss to the chair she’d just given her bra—

Until she looked up into Sam’s outstretched palm.

“Put them here.” His voice was little more than a murmur, but had her pulse thudding wildly. She complied, then watched as he rolled her panties between his impossibly long fingers. “Wet,” he finally growled. “Very wet. That is very, very good.”

Jen had no idea how to respond, so didn’t. She simply waited, knees tucked beneath her and hands resting on her thighs, hoping she still pleased him. She always tried to take care of herself, but no way in hell did she have Tess’s svelte perfection or even Mattie’s lush curves. She was just…somewhere in the middle. But maybe the middle was okay, at least for now.

“Holy fuck.”

His snarl made her nipples tingle. And her sex clench. And her head snap up. “At the risk of being trite, is that a good ‘holy fuck’ or a bad—”

“Lay back.” His interjection was rough, deep, and filled with masculine need. “All the way. I need to see you. All of you.”

His emphasis on the final three words was another torch to her desire. Jen couldn’t figure out why, until she was flat against the mattress with her wrists over her head, secured into cuffs he’d somehow secured to the headboard. She didn’t question the method—every square inch of this room seemed booby-trapped with erotic hidey holes—only enjoyed the full effect of the result. With her arms stretched, her breasts were taut and exposed, tips sizzling with awareness, jutting from puckered areolas. She was aware of every full, hot breath she took, and how those inhalations made her body tremble with brand-new awareness. She was an exposed wire, ready to spark and explode at the slightest provocation…

It was no huge surprise that her hips arched off the mattress when Sam dragged a knuckle down her sternum. That she keened as he descended that hand lower, turning it over in order to hold her abdomen down.

“Easy, mo luaidh.” His voice was a purr again, though infused with a new authority she couldn’t deny or ignore. “Easy, now. Stay right here for me. I want to explore this sweet cunt before I fill every inch of it.”

“Oh.”

It was the only word her lips would produce. It burst from her on a high gasp as Sam dipped his other hand between her thighs, parting her most sensitive folds with knowing expertise. Feeling his touch…on her…right there…

“Oh!”

She flushed, gulped, and cried out all in the same surreal moment, bucking once again. He pushed down on her a little harder, keeping her there, accepting his invasion whether she liked it or not.

But oh God, did she like it.

His finger, so elegant and strong, was soon joined by another. Then a third. Jen groaned, conscious of every new inch he stretched, every new claim he made on her flesh. Her legs fell open, needing to give him more. Still he dictated, “Farther. Open them wide, sweet Jenny. Show me what my cock is goin’ to conquer.”

“Yes.” It fell from her on a rasp as she spread her legs, turning into a creature she no longer recognized—but really liked. With Sam, she didn’t have to worry about right or wrong, about sexiness or acceptance. For just now, just tonight, she was all his to be positioned how he wished, restrained how he wished, fucked how he wished. Crazily enough, his bonds had given her freedom. His control gave her permission to surrender. And his adoration turned her into the one thing she’d never imagined: a fearless, dauntless gift to her bronze, beautiful lover. “Yes…please.”

Sam rewarded her for the kittenish spin on the words, spreading an approving smile—and twisting his fingers deeper. As Jen answered with a fresh gasp, his lips parted with desire. “Perfection. That is what you are, sweet beauty. Look at how you glisten for me…feel how you tremble for me. Now I can smell how hot you are for me, too. So soft and luscious.”

She looked at him through her lashes. There was nothing coy about it; desire had weighted her eyes too heavily. “All of it’s for you. All of me is for you.” She offered the words without hesitation, knowing that in that moment, she meant them. Since all they had was this moment, what could the harm be? It was yet another realization that unlocked more doors inside, setting her senses free to float yet higher…and her desire to follow right on their heels.

“Those are wonderful words to hear, lass.” He tilted his head, seemingly fixated with the rhythm of his fingers, driving them higher, harder, deeper inside. “Since that’s exactly what I plan on taking.”

As her womb clenched tighter, she bit into her bottom lip. Perhaps the pain would hold back a fraction of the aroused flood down her channel. Massive fail. Sam’s grin, bold and wicked, told her so. The expression conflicted with the rest of his face, all ginger choir boy openness—though instead of a hymnal, he held her soaked, trembling arousal. Just a glance down there had her squirming and pleading with fresh abandon.

“Now.” She arched up, needing more. “Take it now then, Sam. I can’t hold on for much—”

Her own scream was her interruption, exploding as he withdrew from her core—before swiftly smacking her sensitive mound. She glared but was quelled by his new scrutiny, now stripped of the grin. “You’ll be holdin’ on as long as I tell you to. Is that clear?”

“Are you freaking—” She yelped as he spanked her once more. “Okay, okay. We’re clear. We’re clear!”

Just like that, he was a choir boy again. No. An angel. With the last of the day’s light spilling in behind his head, limning his hair in gold, he truly looked like a fallen seraph from the sky, dropped here to show her a new definition of heaven—

Especially as he rose up, unzipped his slacks, then freed his erection.

A stunned sigh spilled out of her.

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