“I should give you a break,” he said gruffly and moved to take a step back.
But with speed she wouldn’t have thought herself capable of at the moment, she grabbed his forearm, halting him. “Please. Don’t. I need…” His pulse beat hard and steady beneath her fingertips as she formed her thoughts.
Yes, part of her felt spent, like she’d been sliced right open and emptied, but something deep and indefinable yearned for more. Yearned for Grant. Inside her. On her. Invading her every cell. She wanted him to overtake her. To lose herself in him.
“I need you,” she whispered.
His expression darkened, a sinister and wholly carnal desire flashing through his blue eyes. He pulled his arm from her grip. “Undress me.”
Her blood surged at the words alone. She was going to be able to touch him, to see him. She scooted to the edge of the bed and stood on still shaky legs. “I’d love to.”
She went to work on the buttons of his shirt, taking her time and enjoying the heat of his skin beneath her fingers. Without taking his eyes off her, he shrugged it off his shoulders, revealing a broad chest dusted with dark hair—sexy and masculine with a few scars from battles he’d probably never tell her about. She touched one smooth slash high on his shoulder, and he put his hand over hers, silently warning her.
She moved her hand away and went to the waistband of his jeans. Her fingertips traced over his hard belly, following the faint line of hair disappearing behind his jeans. She unbuttoned his fly and dragged the zipper down, finding no underwear beneath. His hard length sprang forth, and she dipped her hands into his open fly, unable to resist cupping and stroking him.
He grunted, a short, deep sound that told her he was more wound up than his expression revealed. “I didn’t give you permission to touch.”
Reluctantly, she pulled her hand back and dropped to her knees to pull off his boots. “I’m sorry, sir.”
He asked her to remove his shoes and his jeans. Then when she stood again, he clamped a hand around her throat, pressing her collar into her skin in a possessive hold. “Apology accepted. On your back, sweet Charlotte.”
She let him guide her down, his hand still on her neck as he climbed onto the bed with her. The sheets were cold against the sensitized skin of her backside, but all she could focus on was the man looming above her and the intoxicating feeling of being beneath his hand.
His hair fell across his forehead as he shifted his weight, planting his palms on each side of her and settling between her open thighs. He rubbed his cock along her still slick folds, sending sparks through her. “You look good with my collar and marks on you, freckles. You like wearing them?”
“I do.” And it was the truth. She didn’t want to study that fact at the moment, but knowing the welts on her back and rope burn on her wrists were his made her feel warm in all the right places—including squarely in her chest.
Fuck, she was in trouble.
Grant rose to his knees and turned, locking both of Charli’s ankles into leather cuffs attached to the footboard, then positioned himself over her again. She tugged at the chains, but he knew there was only enough slack for her to bend her knees. Her body stiffened beneath him as a glimmer of fresh panic went through her.
“Breathe, darlin’.”
She inhaled a few deep breaths, and as her instinctive response gave way, lovely surrender came to the surface. Her pupils dilated and her nipples, red and swollen from the clamps, hardened. God, she was perfect.
He could feel her wet heat pressing against his shaft and his balls tightened with want. She’d said she needed him. His gut had twisted at the plea. Had sent him entertaining the idea of extending this two-week training. She was everything he craved in a sub. Adventurous, feisty, and so fucking responsive it made his head spin. The things he could do with her, the edges they could find together. He could spend hours finding ways to draw that sexy whimper from her.
He glanced at the condom he’d placed on the bedside table, then discarded the thought. The urge to mark her, feel her against him without any barrier, gnawed at him. They’d both been tested and she’d put in her paperwork she was on birth control. “I don’t want anything between us tonight, Charlotte. If that’s not okay, tell me now.”
“Screw condoms.”
He smiled and pinned her arms above her, his palm flattening her forearms to the bed but avoiding her rope-abraded wrists. “You’re so pink and swollen everywhere I could spend hours just nibbling and licking each part of you.”
He bent down and circled the tip of his tongue over her abused nipple. She rewarded him with that sexy mewl of hers, and his cock stiffened to the point of no return. He had to have her. Right. Now. He lifted his head, then buried himself inside her without finesse. Another minute not inside her was a minute too long.
“Oh.” She arched off the bed. The feel of her clenching around him, skin to skin, was almost too much pleasure for his body to compute. Her snug heat wrapped around him like a cashmere glove, drawing him deep. God, he’d forgotten how good that could feel.
He rocked back, sliding out, then sheathing himself again. The slow pace was insanity making, but he wanted to savor it, savor her. He liked feeling her writhe beneath him when he pulled out, as if she couldn’t bear to not have his cock filling her. She tilted her head back, eyes closed, and soft, begging words passed her lips.
He groaned and thrust into her again. Fuck, he loved having her beneath him, hearing her, feeling her. He kept one hand pressed down on her arms and moved his other hand back to her throat. Her eyelids snapped open, but her gaze was unfocused, enraptured. She liked him holding her like that. Her need for real surrender was palpable.r: Roni LorenGrant turned back around, a small box in his hand. He gave her a wry smile as his gaze drifted over her body. “I see you like my collection.”
Her brows knitted. Did she? Picking apart the difference between fright and anticipation was growing murkier and murkier.
“Stop trying to analyze your response, sweet Charlotte. I can hear your cogs grinding from here. That’s not going to do you any good.” He stepped closer and pulled something out of the box. “Maybe this will help you get out of your head.”
She glanced down to see a flesh-colored dildo in his palm. The chains rattled again, her heart now pounding louder than the rock music filtering through the barn.
He tossed the empty box to the side and then tapped her inner thigh with his free hand. “Spread your legs wider.”