She was right, and he liked that she defended herself. He sat on the edge of the bed and circled the ankle that belonged to him. His thumb slid over the scars there, soothing him. “I don’t want you embarrassed because you choose to give yourself to me, Seychelle. I never want that for you. What you do for me is between us, but there are other women I’ve been with, other women who are aware of what I demand. They talk. Our world can be rough, and the men and women in it can be deliberately cruel. I’m not talking about Torpedo Ink—they’re your club, they’ll have your back—but others will come to the bar and say things. You keep your head up. You’re mine.”
She reached out, shocking him, cupping the side of his face, her expression soft. “I gave you my word, my commitment, and I intend to keep it. I just need a little time to understand your needs. Letting you spank me was very difficult because that’s something I associate with a child’s punishment, although it didn’t feel like something you would do to a child.”
“How did it feel?”
“Erotic,” she admitted, her color rising. “Just the way I always fantasized it would be.”
The blush was sweet, moving up her body, turning her breasts a soft rose, going up her throat to her face. Her nipples drew his attention. He leaned down and pulled the left one into his mouth. She could have been made for him. A gift. Her body was as perfect for his needs as it could be, but it wasn’t even that that got to him anymore, it was her. Seychelle. Who she was.
“But you made it that way for me; you know you did. It hurt at times, and then you took that sting away and turned it into something erotic and sinful and beautiful. I needed to know you would do that for me, and you did.”
He brushed kisses over her nipples and then more back up her throat to her mouth. He spent time there, indulging himself, letting the taste of her transport him to a place where he just felt. Her. His body. She did that for him.
When he lifted his head, she was once more lying under him, and he needed to get his jeans off before his cock was permanently injured. He rolled over, yanked them down and tossed them aside. When he turned his head, she was looking at him, her eyes wide, her expression a little intimidated.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, framing her face with his hands. “I’ve always got you. Just keep believing that. No matter what I ask. Or tell you to do. Remember I’ve got you. Some things are going to scare you, but just like that spanking, you’re going to end up experiencing more pleasure than you could possibly imagine.”
Her eyes searched his for a long time. Those beautiful vivid blue eyes that made him think of rare gems. Her lashes fluttered, swept down and then back up. She nodded. He kissed her because he had to. Her mouth was too tempting. She was his now, all of her. Her body. She’d given herself to him and promised she wouldn’t go back on her word. He saw into her enough to know she wouldn’t, no matter how hard things got. Or how difficult each step into his world was. He intended to make them as easy and as pleasurable as possible for her.
Kissing Seychelle was a new experience for him. She might be inexperienced, and he might have kissed hundreds, but with her, kissing became something different, something fresh and perfect. Smoldering heat slid into his veins, spreading like slow embers throughout his body. Blood pooled low and wicked. Flames raced up his thighs, engulfed his balls, consumed his cock, that steel pole that had never been so hard, or so needy.
She moaned softly, those musical notes of gold fanning the flames into a hot fire that rushed through his veins like a storm, mixing with emotion—something that had never happened before. The firestorm rushing through him, mingled with the unfamiliar feelings, added to the sensations roaring through him, heightening his pleasure and his passion for her.
He would never be the poet, the bring-her-flowers-and-candy man. He wasn’t even a gentle man. For her, he wanted to be. He’d started out that way with her, but it hadn’t lasted. His kisses had turned to devouring her. Commanding her. Taking her over. He loved her mouth. The fire there. Her taste. The way she surrendered to him. The way she gave him everything he demanded. He was more the rip-her-clothes-off-anywhere-anytime kind of man. That was him showing her she was desired. Beautiful. Wanted. She hadn’t experienced that yet, but she would. He hoped she would always understand what he was telling her.