Fever (Breathless 2)

She turned up her face and then stuck out her tongue to catch a drifting snowflake. Her laughter rang out when one melted in her mouth.

He suddenly wanted nothing more than to have his dick where that snowflake had been. Him melting on her tongue. Him coming all over her mouth.

Despite the cold and the snow, heat flushed through his body. Sweat bathed him.

“We’re going now,” he ground out.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“My place.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to fuck you senseless, Bethany.”

“O-kay.”

Her response was shaky and drawn out but her eyes told the real story. She was excited. It was all the encouragement he needed.

Grabbing her hand, he tugged her back in the direction of the car. It would take a lot of doing not to fuck her in the backseat of the car. Tonight he would take her his way. Not that the last week hadn’t been his way. He’d definitely dictated the pace, the how and where, but he’d still been . . . conservative.

Even after she’d been clear in that she would be a willing participant to whatever he wanted to do to her, he’d still held back, because he was deathly afraid of screwing up.

But enough of that. Maybe if he’d been more forceful she wouldn’t still be so insecure. She was a woman who needed stability and security above all else. She needed structure. Routine. All the things she’d been denied.

She needed love.

His love.

They got into the car and for the entire drive to his apartment, it was silent and tense. Sexual awareness was taut and crackling, a tangible aura that surrounded them. Bethany’s eyes glowed in the dim light cast by passing streetlights. Her hair was delectably mussed and her lips were swollen from his kisses. Just the way he liked them.

Hell, he had to stop looking at her lips. His dick was already about to bust out of his pants. He had to focus on something else because all he could imagine were those swollen lips wrapped around his cock.

She ran her tongue over her top lip, a nervous gesture that made him groan out loud. She jumped when the sound exploded from his mouth and he reached automatically to reassure her.

“Christ, baby, if you only knew what I was imagining about those lips and then you run your tongue over them. There’s only so much I can take.”

A gleam entered her eyes. “How long do we have?”

His brows furrowed. “How long do you need?”

She slid her hand between his legs. “I think that depends on you.”

He fumbled for the intercom. “Take the long route.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bethany’s hand had already slipped into his pants, past his boxer briefs. His breath escaped in a long hiss when her fingers curled around his rigid length. Then she leaned in, her mouth hovering precariously close to his.

“Do I have permission to suck your cock?”

He nearly came on the spot. Her breath blew warm over his mouth and it took every ounce of his control not to roll her over on the seat and fuck her until they both passed out.

“Hell yeah,” he breathed.

“Help me out,” she murmured as she tugged at his fly.

“Happy to oblige.”

He yanked his pants down and heard the ripping of material. He shoved them down his thighs, allowing his swollen, aching dick to surge upward.

“Tell me how you want it,” she whispered.

Her gaze found his and he saw uncertainty shining. His heart softened. She was trying but she was also scared and unsure. She wanted his dominance. She needed it. Just like he needed her.

His hand tangled in her hair and he brought her forward, pulling her head down to the tip of his dick.

“Take it deep,” he said.

Her tongue tentatively found the slit where precum already beaded and he groaned when she traced a path around the head of his cock. He curled his hands around her nape, stroking and massaging, offering silent encouragement.

She slid her lips down his length, covering him inch by inch with her warm, wet mouth. The pleasure was intense. Almost unbearable. So fucking exquisite.

“When I tell you to stop, you stop immediately, okay?” he said.

She glanced up, his dick sliding from her lips. She nodded.

“You feel fucking amazing, baby. But if I come now, it’s going to shoot my plans for the evening all to hell. I’ll let you work me up until we get to my place. But then I’m taking you up to my bed and I’m going to tie you up, hold you down, and fuck you until you scream my name.”

A shiver worked up her body. Her pupils flared and her lips parted in a quick gasp. Her pulse accelerated against his fingers where he circled her wrists. He smiled at her reaction. It was definitely time to take the gloves off. She was ready. He sure as hell was ready.

But still, he’d give her one last chance to opt out. To tell him if she wasn’t ready. He’d never do anything to push her too hard, too fast.

“If you’re not ready for this, you need to tell me now, baby. You need to understand what’s going to happen tonight. I’ve held back because I didn’t want to rush you. I didn’t want to overwhelm or frighten you. Tonight, though, it’s going to be a different story. I’m going to use a crop on your pretty ass. I’m going to mark you. I’m going to own you. I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked. Do you understand? Can you accept that? Tonight you step into my world.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes wide.

“Be sure, Bethany. Be very sure of this. And at any point, if it’s no longer what you want, then you tell me no. It’s that simple. You say no and it stops. Instantly.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Are you afraid?”

She shook her head.

“Is this what you want?”

She nodded.

“Baby, talk to me. You’re starting to worry me.”

She smiled then and his relief was crushing. She wasn’t afraid. She truly wanted this.

“I want you, Jace. The real you. I don’t want you to hold back. What you want excites me. I just hope I won’t disappoint you.”

He groaned. “Jesus, baby, you have to stop with that shit. You aren’t going to disappoint me. The fact that you’re giving yourself so sweetly to me. That you trust me. That you’ll allow me to do any damn thing I want to. That’s a fucking dream. Hell no, you won’t disappoint me. It’s not possible.”

She leaned forward to kiss him, her hands curling around his erection once more.

“How much more time do we have now?” she murmured against his mouth.

Chapter twenty-six

Bethany knelt on the rug in Jace’s bedroom, her entire body taut with anticipation. Jace stalked around her, circling her like a predator would his prey. She felt deliciously hunted. She tingled from head to toe over all the things Jace had said he would do to her tonight.

She had told Jace the truth when she’d said that she’d just about tried it all during her sex-as-oblivion phase. Kink, no kink, she’d been open to anything. The overwhelming difference, however, was that she’d never done any of those things with a person who truly cared about her and whose priority was her well-being and pleasure.

She was positively itching to experience all of that at Jace’s hand. She loved his dominance, his strength and his authority over her. Loved his firm hand. But she’d known he was holding back, not giving her all of him. Finally, that would come to an end. Or at least she hoped it would.

Adrenaline buzzed through her veins, soaking her in a high like she’d never experienced. No pill or drug had ever given her anything close to this. If only she could bottle it.

She jumped when the tip of a leather crop skimmed over her shoulder and down between her breasts. She hadn’t even seen him get it out. Had been too lost in her excitement.

He was still dressed, and she was completely naked. His sleeves were rolled up. She reacted to that image. He looked as though he were about to go to work. On her. She licked her lips, suddenly nervous, terrified, excited as hell and unbelievably turned on.

He trailed the edge over the tips of her breasts in turn. Her nipples hardened as he stroked the leather over them, coaxing them to further rigidity. Then he let the crop drift lower, to her belly, and then lower still until it glided over her mound and then around the curve of her body to between her legs.

She gasped when it slid between her folds, over her clit and into her wetness. And she was wet. Very wet. He rubbed it lightly, going lower until it touched the mouth of her pussy and then he shifted it higher to stroke her clit once more.

Her breathing sped up and she closed her eyes, helplessly arching upward, unable to control her reaction to the featherlike brushes. The crop could be used for pleasure. Just as it could be used for pain. The contrast fascinated her. Made her want to experience the opposite sensation. The snap of the leather against her skin, marking her as he’d promised.

His marks. His stamp of possession. Proof that he owned her.

God, it sounded so barbaric. So unbelievably delicious and decadent. Owned.

Protected.

Cherished.

She moaned softly as he lifted the crop through her curls and back over her mound. Then he lifted the tip to her mouth, her eyes widening when she guessed his intent.

“Lick it clean,” he said huskily. “Lick your juices from the leather, Bethany. Taste yourself. Taste your desire.”

Hesitantly, she stuck the tip of her tongue out to the leather, her eyes glued to him, seeking his approval. There was satisfaction in his eyes. No sign of disappointment.

Growing bolder, she pulled the crop farther into her mouth, never letting her gaze drop from his, and she sucked lightly at it and then laved her tongue over the surface, catching the slight musk of her moisture.

Without warning, he pulled the crop away and snapped it over the side of her breast, catching her nipple and areola with the flat edge.

Fire—and surprise—caught her unaware and she gasped, rocking back on her heels. It was the most perplexing sensation. Pain. Instant sharpness. But then a throbbing ache that slowly faded to a warm hum. Strangely addictive because she wanted more. Wanted that burn because she knew what would follow.

Her nipples were on fire. So very hard, puckered and rigid, straining outward as if begging for the crop. Was she insane? She was practically begging him to hit her again.

He popped the other breast and fire exploded over that nipple. She closed her eyes and swayed, drunk on the instant buzz that settled into her blood.

“You’d look fucking hot with nipple piercings,” Jace said in a silky voice.

Her eyes popped open in surprise. Jace did not look like a guy who appreciated body piercings in the woman he was involved with.

“No one would ever see them but me,” he murmured. “Our little secret. And it would drive me crazy knowing what was underneath your bra.”

It made her want to run out and find the nearest place to pierce them. Only, ouch. It sounded painful and not in a good way.

“Get up on the bed,” he commanded. “On your hands and knees, ass out to the edge. Keep position, no matter what I do. You aren’t to move. You do, however, have permission to make whatever sound you like. I want to hear them. Want to hear each gasp, each cry, every moan when the crop strikes your flesh.”

She reached down with her hands to push herself upward, knowing she didn’t have a prayer of remaining steady. She was already so drunk on desire. She weaved unsteadily and he immediately reached out to grasp her arm, ensuring she didn’t fall. When he was certain she was steady, he let her go and she crawled onto the bed, positioning herself exactly as he’d commanded her.

“Now, lay your cheek on the mattress, ass up, head down. Put your arms above your head and lay your palms flat on the bed. And keep them there.”

Slowly she lowered her head, her stomach clenching at the vulnerability of the position. She was utterly helpless this way. No defense.

To her surprise, he stepped away but he returned just as quickly. He grasped one ankle, tugging firmly, forcing her thighs wider apart so that her pussy was completely bared. Then to her shock, he began to coil rope around her ankle. She felt it pull tight so she couldn’t even move it and she realized he was tying the other end to the bedpost at the foot of the bed.

Holy shit. She really was going to be completely helpless!

When he was finished with that ankle, he moved to her other and secured it in an identical fashion to the headboard. She was stretched wide, both ankles spread and tied securely.

She thought he was finished but then he walked around to the other side of the bed and from the corner of her eye, she saw he held more rope.

Silently, he tugged at both her hands, drawing them above her head so her arms formed a V. Then he coiled the rope around her wrists, securing them together. He pulled the rope down toward the floor and tied it to the bed frame so she was stretched forward, her body pulled in several different directions.

She was rendered immobile. She had no choice but to take whatever he chose to do. Her only defense was the word no, and she was determined not to use it. “No” hadn’t even entered her mind.