Lips brushed her ear, withdrew. “Don’t move your hands.”
She wanted to ask or what, but he’d tell her and sometimes imagining was even better. He could tie her in place with the terry cord from her bathrobe. Pin her wrists in one big hand. Or land a small, hard slap on her butt, leaving a rosy-red souvenir of his possession. Those weren’t fantasies she wanted to bring to life, not tonight. They were a delicious secret.
“You’re thinking again,” he said.
“True.” It was hard to keep her fingers still and flat on the wall when she could turn around and touch him. Explore his hard, muscled chest. Drive him crazy, too, so that she wasn’t the only one out of control. Instead, she stood perfectly still. Waiting.
For him.
“You’re going to tell me someday,” he said, and she thought but we only have a few nights before she banished the fleeting regret. Regretting was like counting down the days of a vacation before she’d even begun. She was lucky to have any time. She wouldn’t waste it anticipating the end. Instead, she turned her head, giving him a small smile that was neither a yes nor a no. Let him figure it out.
He fisted her ponytail, drawing her head back and exposing the curve of her throat. “How rough?”
Heat rushed through her. Just hard enough that tomorrow she’d feel where he’d been inside her. She wanted him to mark her, to leave the faintest of scratches on her skin from his face because he was bigger and tougher than she, and then she could hold the reminder close for the rest of her time here on the island.
“Just rough enough.” Those weren’t good directions. She hadn’t been specific. “I want to see you on my body tomorrow. I want to know, when I look at myself in the mirror, where you’ve touched me. I want to feel it everywhere.”
He tugged her ponytail to the left, angling her head so he could kiss her. The position was awkward, forcing her to rise up on her toes to fit her mouth to his. It left her off-balance, trusting him with her weight.
“Laney?”
“Yeah?” How could she feel so out of control and yet connected with him? He hadn’t even stuck his penis inside her yet, but she was hyper-aware of his body pinning hers. She dug her nails into the wall where he’d positioned them, using the small bite of rough plaster against her fingertips to ground herself.
“I can pretty much guarantee I’m not going to be gentle.”
“Okay.” That was her voice, breathless and needy.
“But I’m also going to make you feel good,” he promised.
Saying something felt right, but she couldn’t get the words out.
“Shhh.” As if he knew she couldn’t think, talk and feel at the same time. Or rather she could, but she’d rather not. He stretched her arms higher over her head. “Remember. Leave them there.”
He was telling, not asking for permission. She nodded, anyway.
The rasp of his zipper coming down made her hotter. She wanted him to ram himself into her, to part her body with his and make her accommodate him. He’d do dirty things to her and then she’d do them to him because tit for tat was only fair, and his body drove her to crazy-good heights.
“Hurry up,” she said, the words escaping her before she could bite them back.
He leaned in, giving her his full weight, his dick nestled against her butt. Her cheeks parted beneath the cotton of her shorts to accommodate him.
“Who’s in charge?” He wanted to make his point, the answer clear, but that was part of the game, wasn’t it? She ached deep between her thighs. He’d give it to her good.
When she didn’t answer right away, because she wanted to see what he’d do, he dragged his penis up her butt and then back down again. His hand tangled in her hair, a heavy weight, as if he wasn’t ever letting go.
“Laney.” The stern warning in his voice deepened the ache.
“You are,” she gasped.
She’d given him the words, now he had to give her what she wanted, right? Instead of sinking himself inside her body, however, he tugged down her tank top and the soft cup of her bra. He rubbed her nipples with the pad of his thumb while he twisted her head back and kissed her again. The rough stroke of his tongue taking her mouth matched the flick of his callused thumb and forefinger over her nipple. Then he plucked, hard, and she arched back into him with a cry.
“You have any idea how much I like that sound? Makes me want to kiss you and suck you, run my hands and my mouth over you until you come.”
Yes, please. When she tried to angle her head so she could kiss him, he halted her with a hand in her hair.
“Nuh-uh. Hold still.” A wave of heat followed the prickle against her scalp as she reached the end of her new leash.