Cuffed by His Charm (Dirty Little Secrets 4)

He draws in a deep breath, staring intently before addressing me. “But . . . what I did . . . I can’t touch you again, Kenna, not so soon . . .”

“You thought you lost me,” I whisper, stepping closer, offering myself. “You were desperate and scrambling to right your world, just like I’m scrambling to right mine. We were both burned today. Please, Gabe, please don’t let Evan break us.”

Everything changes in his expression then, and I’m looking at the Gabe I know. All the distance between us is sucked away by his heat. The walls he put up, protecting himself and me, come crumbling down. He lays himself bare, and it’s what I need to recover, because it’s emotion he’s been hiding, too. Today we were raw in ways we’d never been raw. We’d been bared, then broken, and now reborn into something we weren’t before because the urgency to be together is there, and these were truths I simply believe wholeheartedly when his lips seal across mine.

His kiss is hot and potent, and everything I need. His hands are tangled in my hair, running over my back, stroking my arms, touching me until I’m wiggling against him, begging for more. He angles my head, deepening the kiss, and he drags a hand down over my hip until he’s reaching between my legs, cupping my sex. Teasing me for what’s to come, he squeezes his hand, and I moan, hot desire pulsing over me. His lips brush against my pulse point, and I sense his grin as he murmurs, “I feel you shaking, beautiful.”

I don’t wait for an invitation or for him to act first; I’m so desperate to feel something besides pain and fear that I reach for his pants, unbuckle his belt, thrusting those and his boxer briefs down. He groans when I reach for his cock and stroke him. Both of his hands move to my ass, squeezing my cheeks, but I want to own him. At least, for as long as he’ll a

llow. Frantic to control a world falling apart around me, I push on his chest until he steps back against the kitchen counter, one hand on my hip, the other resting on the island next to him.

One brow arches, a sexy smile on his mouth, as I eagerly stroke his hard shaft. With that grin in place, he grabs my shirt and lifts it over my head, then pulls the cups of my bra down, exposing my breasts with none too gentle hands. He leans down, sucks a nipple to the roof of his mouth before releasing me. “All right, McKenna,” he says gruffly, “we’ll do this your way for a little while.” He places his other hand on the counter, obviously agreeing to let me have my fun. “Go on, love, play.”

Giving a smile of my own, I lower to my knees right there in the kitchen and stare up at him, holding the tip of his cock near my mouth. God he’s big, and his cock is nothing short of beautiful, the perfect width to length, and oh-so-perfectly hard, making me feel wanted and desired.

I lick just the tip, and his smile darkens a little as he strokes his knuckles across my cheek. “It’s there for you, sweetheart. Don’t make me wait.”

I open my mouth and take him in deep, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum against my tongue. His groan slides over me as I play, exactly like I want to, teasing him, pleasing him with swirls of my tongue. His balls, his shaft, the tip of his thick cock are mine to enjoy, and I taste all of him, until I feel the tremble of his legs, the telling sign he’s had enough of my teasing.

With a deep chuckle rising goosebumps on my arms, he leans down and cups my face, kisses my mouth as passionately as I sucked his cock. Then he backs away, and I’m on my feet again. He’s turned me around, my arms resting against the island in the middle of his kitchen. He’s kissing my neck, opening my jeans until they’re down to my ankles, and I’m kicking them away. Overwhelmed by the intense presence at my back, I’m on my tiptoes, and he’s sliding his touch over my hips. His fingers tuck into my panties, and soon they’re gone, too. My eyes roll into the back of my head as he’s kissing my bottom, nipping at my cheek.

When I sense his hands working behind me, I glance back, see him take a condom out of his wallet and hastily apply it. Yet he never lets me breathe; his tongue is swirling over the roundness of my bottom, tickling in the best kind of way, the perfect occasional bite reminding me who’s boss here.

By the time he raises up, hands on my hips, and positions his cock at my entrance, I’m more than ready for him. With a perfection that is unmatched by anything I know, he’s owning me in ways I need to be owned.

His strokes are slow, gingerly working me up to ensure I’m accepting his girth, but gentle isn’t what I want. I’m wet and eager, and I thrust back against him, showing him I’m ready.

With a low growl that shivers into my core, his hand comes down on my ass giving a stinging hit that raises me higher onto my toes. I lose myself in the quickening shifts of his hips, his cock stroking my soft inner skin. The sounds of our lovemaking matched with our scent take me higher and higher yet. My hands press against the cool marble countertop as he fills me up, taking me to a place with no beginning and no end.

His pelvis smacks against mine in a perfect rhythm, our moans merge together in the melody of our pleasure. And just as I reach the peak, his cock is gone.

I scream out in desperation, and with rough hands, he spins me around to face him; his mouth returns to mine. His kiss is hotter than before, more urgent. He grabs my hips and hoists me onto the island. I’m floating, lost in pleasure, while he lowers between my thighs, and slowly licks up my folds. There are few things that I find miraculous in this world. Watching Gabe O’Keefe lick his way across my heated flesh is a fucking miraculous thing.

But it’s there, in the seconds his mouth seals over my clit that it dawns on me that he knows exactly what he’s doing. I’m not in control of any of this. I don’t choose when my orgasm hits. He knows how to work my body to ensure I get there. And the intensity in his eyes tells me he won’t stop until I get higher than I’ve ever gone.

I grip the edge of the island, gasping, moaning, and shuddering against the pleasure he’s offering. It’s tickling in the best kind of way, and I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. I climb higher and higher and higher . . .

Then, again, he’s gone.

He’s on his feet, his cock posed at my slit, one of my legs hooked over his arms. I get one look into the fiery depths of his eyes before he’s pumping his hips with a rhythm that has my head tipping back. His finger comes down on my oversensitive clit, stroking the bud, and I’m quivering against the force he has me under. My back arches against the pleasure, my chin points to the ceiling as he thrusts his hips harder, rougher, faster now. All I can do is ride out the pleasure he’s delivering. Which is his particular brand of pleasure that isn’t about lust, it’s about ownership.

There is no misunderstanding now. I’m his.

With that truth seeping into the air around us, Gabe roars, bucking and jerking against me, and the widening and hardening of his cock sends me soaring over the edge with him.

Before I can even recover, tingling from head to toe, gasping for air, his hands suddenly cup my face, lifting my head. Intense, emotion-packed eyes greet me. “You have me,” he says, breathless, too. “You’ve always had me, and you will always have me. Tell me you know that.”

“I know that now,” I whisper, placing my hands over the top of his.

His brows furrow, voice blisters. “None of this is your fault. Tell me.”

I lean up and before kissing his mouth, I give him the answer he needs. “This isn’t my fault.”

One brow arches. “We’re in this together.”

“We’re in this together.”

Chapter 5