Page 52 of No Kind of Hero
The moment he set his mouth to her, she was arching her back, making noise, yanking at her restraints. And when he got his hands into the action, touching her everywhere, using every bit of her, she soared higher.
Two fingers inside her. Three. And his mouth on her, giving her no place to escape, nowhere to rest. She was going up, up, so close . . . and he stopped.
“No,” she begged. “No. Don’t stop.”
He didn’t listen. He was over her again. He was ready, and she was shaking. He asked again, “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes.”
He wasn’t smiling. He was sitting above her chest, holding her head. “Then if you want it,” he told her, “Open up and take me. If you don’t, tell me so. But know that this time, I’ll be in charge.”
There was no way she was saying no. The electricity was too hot, too dark. She opened her mouth, but she didn’t say a word. Her hands were still tied, his body over hers, his hands around her head, holding her for him. And he’d been right. She had no power right now.
Her heart was pounding almost out of her chest, her knees bending to allow her to set her feet flat on the bed, trying to get some control, but she couldn’t do it. Evan was being careful not to go too deep, but he was right at that edge, pushing her hard. And she had no choice but to take it.
“This is how . . .” he said between gasping breaths, “the rough trade does the princess. Any way he wants.”
The words. The darkness. The thrill. Her muscles were clenching, releasing. And just like that, she was coming. Losing control. Her eyes were rolling back in her head, and Evan was out of her in an instant, somehow sensing what was happening. Sliding down her body, shoving the backs of her thighs all the way up, and thrusting inside, filling her even as the orgasm continued.
She heard the wail as if it were coming from somewhere outside herself. She shook, was jerked forward as she pulled at the restraints, then shoved back by every thrust. On and on, the waves rebuilding, cresting, rolling her under. And Evan swearing, saying things she’d never heard from him, dark and dirty, plunging deep, then deeper still, as if he wanted to bury himself in her. As if he wanted to make her his.
And she was. Shewas.Only his.
Evan’s hands were shaking when he untied that scarf, pulled her around to face him, wrapped his arms around her, and held her close.
He hadn’t even kissed her, so he did it now. One hand pushing back that pretty hair, and his mouth brushing over hers, then settling in. Gentle, the way he hadn’t managed to be at all.
“Hey,” he asked her softly, “you OK?”
She nodded, then buried her face in his neck and held him tight, and his heart sank. What had he beendoing,taking that out on her, pushing her to that limit when heknewshe’d never done anything like that?
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t check enough. I’d been thinking about it all day, and then when you wore that dress, and you told me there was nothing under it. I didn’t even think. I just wanted to get you home and fuck your brains out.”
She shook against his neck, and he rubbed his hands over the softness of her bare back and said helplessly, “I’m sorry.”
She pulled back, and she wassmiling.The relief hit him in the chest like a hammer, and he fell back on the bed, threw an arm across his face, and groaned. “Oh, man. You mess me up so bad. I meant to be gentle. That was the idea.”
“But in a totally controlling way,” she pointed out.
“Well, yeah.” He had to smile. “I can’t help that part.”
She crawled over his body, her hair a wild tangle around her, looking nothing at all like a buttoned-down, conservative lawyer and every bit like a woman who’d just been tied down, dominated, and overwhelmed, and who was ready for you to do it again. She kissed his chest, propped her chin on her hands, smiled into his eyes, and said, “I’ve never had a night like that in my life. All I’ll have to do is think about it and I’ll be getting there all over again. You asked me for my fantasy. It’s you. You’re my fantasy, and you always have been. I want you to dance with me and give me a blanket so I don’t get cold and carry me to bed. And then I want you to hold me down and make me yours.”
He groaned, and he meant it. “You’re going to kill me.”
“Knowing I excite you,” she said, “that I satisfy you? That excites me more than anything.”
“Even if I’m taking something out on you.” He sobered, saying it. “Something you don’t deserve.”
She was silent a moment. “Candy. And my parents.”
“Yeah.” It was a sigh, and he was smoothing a hand over her silken hair, down her back.
She kissed his chest again, gentle still. “Maybe I get it. Maybe none of it’s simple. Maybe it’s complicated.”
“That’s for sure.”
She raised her head and looked straight at him out of those blue eyes. “As long as you aren’t taking out your girlfriend on me. April. I don’t want to be the way you get back at her. I don’t want to be your revenge.”
