When I Say Yes (Necklace Trilogy 3)

He lifts me to the island, watching me with an intense look as he unzips my boots, his fingers a tease on my ultra-sensitized skin as he tosses one and then the other away. His need for control is displayed in every part of his life, in the quality of his books, in how he approaches everything, most definitely in how he cares for his body. He is sculpted, masculine perfection, a product of hard work. A work of art.

His hands come down on my legs. “I want you, Allie,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking the inside of my leg, heat radiating from that spot all the way up to my sex. “Like I have never wanted anyone in my life.”

There is a raw, tormented quality to his voice, almost as if he doesn’t want to feel what he feels right now for me. But I know this isn’t about me, it’s about him. It’s about how much he hates himself. How deep that hate runs. There are shadows in the depths of those blue eyes of his that tell his story, a story he allows only me to see.

“Open for me,” he orders, a gentle nudge to my knees, but he doesn’t do more.

He is asking me to give myself to him, taking but not demanding, and right now, in his current state of emotional upheaval, this means everything. The look on his face is all heat and lust, the warmth of his touch on my body promising me that this night has only begun, and a deep ache radiates in my sex. I do as he bids, as he’s requested, and I open my legs. Satisfaction slides over his handsome face and his gaze sweeps over my breasts, and my breasts are heavy, my sex tight, wet, aching for him.

Dash catches my fingers and steps between my legs, leaning into me as he presses my hands behind me on the counter. “Hold them there,” he says, his mouth right above mine. “Understand?”

Like I have a choice, I think, considering the angle of my body, but what I say is, “And if I don’t?”

“My tongue will stop whatever it’s doing at the time,” he promises, that dark quality I’ve glimpsed in him oh so present right now, right here.

“That’s cruel,” I accuse.

His eyes narrow, his jaw clenches. “Now you’re starting to understand me.”

There’s so much self-hate in that statement, that I whisper, “Dash, damn it, stop.”

“You’re cursing at me, Allie,” he says as one of his hands covers my breast, his fingers teasing my nipple, sending a rush of heat through my body.

“Yes,” I manage in a raspy voice. “Yes, I am. And you know why.”

His teeth nip my lip, and I yelp with the sting, but already he’s licking the offended skin, soothing it. A kiss follows, a deep slide of his tongue that burns through me for reasons that reach beyond the heat of this moment. He is here with me, but he is never all here. Not even now.

It doesn’t matter though, I’m moaning again, my body heavy, drugged with sensations. “Don’t move, cupcake,” he murmurs, kissing my chin and then my neck, before his mouth is on my nipples, sucking, licking, teasing.

I want to touch him. I can’t touch him. Not at the angle I’m leaning and with the pressure of both our bodies forcing my hands to stay the bridge between us and the counter. Dash moves lower, sliding between my legs where he licks my clit. I suck in a breath, my entire body lit up with that one little intimate contact that doesn’t last. He moves to my knee, kissing a path up my leg, and when I think I can’t take it another moment, he rewards me with another lick of my clit. Then his mouth is gone again, leaving me panting as he finds the other knee. I’m losing my mind as he repeats the same process, kissing a path up my leg, and he offers me another lick. Sensations rock me, but I steel myself for the tease to follow yet again, but it doesn’t come. Dash suckles me and my head falls backward, my lashes fluttering with the pleasure, but some part of me screams that this isn’t what I expected. This isn’t him fucking me hard and dirty all night long. This is not the way he lives in the moment, this is not how he uses me to stay here, not underground fighting.

This is not how he fights one obsession with another. This is not how he uses physicality to fight off his demons. This is him pushing that all aside, pretending it doesn’t exist.

My body objects—oh how it objects—but I sit up and Dash lifts his head and looks at me. “Allie?”

My answer is to wrap my arms around his neck, my naked breasts between us, heat and desire tamed only by the questions in his eyes and the challenge in my own. “What happened to fucking me hard and dirty and getting that fight out of your system?”