He shook his head. She didn’t belong here. In this bed with Jenna. Not with the woman he loved.
Fuck. When had he fallen in love with her? He could tell himself it was the sex talking, but it wasn’t. He hadn’t even fucked her yet. This wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t about the need to dominate her, although that was strong. And even though he’d told her they’d take things slow, he couldn’t stop himself from taking command. That was just a part of who he was.
Looking down at her, he wanted to promise her everything. But he couldn’t. However, he would do whatever he had to for her to be happy and safe.
Thankfully, she’d reacted well to his orders. She’d joined a BDSM club, for fucks sake. He still couldn’t believe that. He didn’t like that she’d been to Saxons without him.
Never again.
He’d be accompanying her whenever she went to a club. And there would be no doubts who she belonged to. Him. Forever.
But now wasn’t the time to tell her that. To claim her fully. Not when she had so much shit going on.
“I wish I had my gear here. I’d put a spreader bar between your feet then pin them back to the headboard.”
She stiffened.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m not sure I could be tied down, at least not my feet, not after…”
“Oh baby, of course that’s a trigger for you.” Regret filled his face. “I’m sorry. No bonds. Not until you’re ready.”
He leaned over, taking his weight on his hands as he kissed her, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, taking command of the kiss. Of her. Moving down her neck, he nipped at her skin. Not too hard, not enough to mark her, but enough to satisfy that primal need inside him to claim her.
Despite her orgasm, she was already breathing hard again, her desire clear. Fuck, she was amazing. He leaned to the side and cupped the breast closest to him, squeezing gently, watching her for any signs of discomfort. Although her breath caught, she didn’t look scared or unsure. She looked like she wanted to demand more.
Then that’s what he’d give her. He flicked his tongue over her nub, smiling as he heard her make an irritated noise. His little sub needed to learn how to be
patient.
Fuck. My sub. That was more than he could have hoped for. He pinched her nipple and heard her gasp.
“Curt!”
He scraped his teeth across it, and she cried out. Quickly, he surrounded the bud with the heat of his mouth, soothing it even as he reached down and lightly tugged at her clit. His cock throbbed in reaction, pressing painfully against his jeans.
Standing, he quickly stripped, aware of the way she watched him. He didn’t have the prettiest of bodies. He had scars. He’d led a hard life. He stood for a moment, letting her take him in. If she rejected him now . . .
What was wrong with him? He’d never felt this vulnerable before. Not even with Amelia. Just as well. She would have pounced on any weakness and used it to her advantage.
But he needn’t have worried. Jenna’s eyes were filled with longing, with heat. She sat up and reached for him, tracing her hands over his shoulders, running them over a scar on his bicep.
“Knife,” he told her, then regretted being so honest as her eyes widened. But then she leaned in and kissed his scar.
He grinned. “Bit old to have my boo-boos kissed, aren’t I?”
“Hush. Let me. I don’t like the idea of you being hurt.”
Yeah, well, he knew how that felt. She touched a scar on his side.
“Bullet.”
She took in a sharp breath but didn’t say anything, moving down, onto her knees on the floor in front of him. It was his turn to take a deep breath as she positioned herself at eye level with his hard cock. But she didn’t stare at his groin, instead she just gave it a quick glance then gently ran her fingers over an old scar on his upper thigh.
“Barbed wire.”
She winced, glancing up at him. He grinned. “Yeah, wasn’t pretty. I was about ten. Ripped my skin up good.”