Cuffed by His Charm (Dirty Little Secrets 4)

Then it’s not anything we say bringing us closer, it’s his lips on mine in a way they’ve never been before. There’s always been something between us, something standing in our way. Some underlying feeling of why we shouldn’t be together. Now there’s nothing, but us and something so much more.

I follow every swipe of his tongue, grabbing his T-shirt, desperately trying to get closer.

He chuckles, seemingly understanding my urgency, and presses a soft kiss against my forehead. “Stay here a moment, will you?”

I give him a look. “That depends on what you’re up to.”

“Oh, I will always seek to surprise you,” he says with a grin. “Just to see that look again.”

I realize he hasn’t answered me when he moves to the windows at the front of the pub and closes the blinds, shutting out the world. He keeps his eyes fixed on me as he returns to me and passes by, stepping in behind the bar. I stand on my tiptoes as I lose sight of him when he reaches down for something. Though as he rises again, I lower down, watching him come toward me holding two pairs of handcuffs.

“Want to play?” he murmurs, arching a brow.

Heat floods me, pooling low in my body at the hot desire storming across his face. Kinky sex makes him hot, and seeing him hot makes me hot, too. “Do you always keep handcuffs handy, just in case?” I ask with a soft laugh.

His deeper chuckle now causes goosebumps to form across my flesh, as he moves closer. “I keep them here for rowdy customers, but I am a man who will use any situation to my advantage.” When he stops in front of me, he hangs the cuffs off one finger and asks permission, “May I?”

I don’t even have to think about it. Cuffed by him, I shiver in anticipation, because Gabe has it all. The looks, the charm . . . hell, even the passion. But he has something no other man has. My implicit trust. “Yes.”

“Very nice.” He reaches for my shirt in the same second I reach for his.

By the time I’m naked, so is he, and all I see—and need—is his beautiful cock that’s reaching up to his belly button, thick and hard, with veins protruding on the sides, speaking of his desire. He tosses a condom wrapper onto the bar, and my stomach clenches with desire, as he then presses his hard planes against me, his erection teasingly on my stomach. I want to touch him, tease him even, but I see in the strength of his eyes that tonight this game belongs to him, not me.

“Do you know how many times I wanted to take you right here,” he says, running his free hand over my bottom, squeezing tight. “How many times I thought about bending you over this bar and fucking you?”

I moan against his words, his touch, as he clips the first handcuff around my wrist then attaches it to the brass steel bar decorating the edge of the cherrywood bar. I catch his sexy smile as h

e takes my other wrist, locking the cuff into place and then attaching it to the bar. His cheeks flush, eyes appearing darker than ever as he slides the stools out of the way, leaving me standing there, nude, trapped, and wet and ready for him.

Though he doesn’t hurry this along. He waits, stepping back to examine me, and I’ve never felt so bared by any man. His eyes slowly give me a once-over, as if he’s memorizing every curve, every freckle. He cocks his head and gazes at my shoulder, then my puckered nipples, which garner a grin from him, and then his eyes flare with delicious heat as he examines my sex and licks his lips.

“You’re very beautiful like this. The wood all around you, the cuffs, the warmth of your skin. The desire I see in those pretty eyes.” His eyes slowly lift to mine again, and the way they burn causes a shiver to shoot up my spine as he adds, “You drive me fucking crazy, Kenna, you always have.”

I expect him to move to me then and take my mouth, but he surprises me again by moving in next to me and reaching over the bar to grab an ice cube. When his eyes connect with mine again, his smile is back, and I tremble with the promise I see in his gaze.

He brushes the ice cube along my lips and then he leans in and kisses me, replacing the cold with the heat of his mouth. I give him what he wants, opening my mouth wide, allowing him to take everything from me. I swirl my tongue with his, keeping up with him, and his low growl lets me know I’m pleasing him.

I moan, and he breaks the kiss, moving to my neck, where his breath tickles, and yet it’s a perfection I’ve never known. My sex clenches, wanting so much more, and wanting to give him everything.

It’s a reaction he apparently senses, as he slowly, with his eyes on me, lowers to one knee. I gasp as he slides the ice cube against my throbbing clit, but then his tongue is lapping up the water there, and heat blasts intense desire across me. I moan, tossing my head back, and pull against the cuffs digging into my flesh. But just that, a little bit of pain mixed with the pleasure, and somehow I only want more.

After he gets a few eager moans from me, he moves away and drags the ice up my body, over a nipple, and then to the other side until he’s between my legs again, stroking the ice over my clit, gently. Somehow the sensation becomes perfect and painful, and I grind against his mouth, fighting against the cuffs, wanting to grab his head, hold him there as he gives me what I want.

Another low chuckle, and then his finger is inside me, another one joining right behind. Eyes on me, he keeps his face near my sex, and I watch him as his fingers move rapidly inside me, demanding I go where he sends me . . . right out of my mind. But as I reach there, he refuses the high, and I grunt in frustration.

“Aw, baby, you want to come?” he asks, voice soft.

I want to respond, but I can’t, not yet. He’s risen again and he reaches for the condom and applies it in haste. I stare at him, this incredible man with a strong body, full of delicious muscles and even that sexy V, but it’s his soul that’s sexier. “I want you,” I tell him, “every goddamn inch of you.”

The side of his mouth arches sensually as he steps in front of me, roughly taking hold of me, gripping my hips. “Spread your legs.”

I do as I’m told, and then he enters me right to the hilt. Our moans echo each other and my head falls back, the cuffs digging into my hands, reminding me I’m trapped to his desires. His cock moves in and out, setting a steady rhythm. I’m blinded by the pleasure as every stroke seems to somehow take me higher, make me feel more of him, more connected, more lost to each other.

His brow furrows, expression grows serious, and he’s thrusting hard and slow, showing me who’s in charge. It’s all so perfect, and all that I need. And with each powerful thrust, I fall deeper under his spell, staring into his eyes, watching him take my soul in a way no one has ever requested it. There’s nothing between us anymore. Nothing to fear. Nothing to worry over. Gabe has me, in all the ways that I need to be loved.

Somewhere in between moans, and on a gasp, I say again, “I love you.”

He freezes, buried deep inside me. He grabs my face, stares at me intently. “Christ, I love the way that sounds from that pretty mouth.” He steps back, withdrawing, and a coldness washes over me.