Giving In (Surrender Trilogy 2)

“Hell yes,” he muttered.

He pulled out several bills from his wallet and tossed them on the table next to their plates. Then he rose, holding out his hand to her. She took it, allowing him to pull her up next to him, and the two hurried out to his car.

The ride home was silent, but she found comfort in the thick tension between them. Their need was evident. Neither of them tried to hide it or make it something it wasn’t.

When they pulled into his drive, she felt a moment’s uncertainty, but quickly tamped it down. She was going ahead with this. She had questions. She wanted a much clearer picture of what he’d promised her.

As soon as they entered the house, Kylie started toward the living room, leaving him to follow her lead. She reclined on the couch and then patted the spot beside her in silent invitation.

When he settled beside her, she turned, swallowing back her fears. With this man she could be herself. And with this man, maybe she could finally be whole again. Not again. For the first time in her life.

“I wanted—needed—to ask you some things,” she said hesitantly.

His hand immediately went to her cheek, soft and reassuring, his touch like fire against her skin.

“You can ask me anything, darling. There’s nothing we can’t talk about together.”

She smiled, encouraged by his sincerity.

“I want . . .” She sucked in a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I want to try again. I mean with you. But I wanted to know exactly what you meant by giving me control.”

Fire blazed in his eyes, heat that she could feel. Desire. Satisfaction. Relief.

“I meant just that,” he said. “If you want this—me—then what happens is you tie me to the bed, both hands above me, and I’ll be yours to do with as you please. And by that, I mean as much or as little as you want. We take it slow. You see what you can handle. And we go from there. But baby, don’t put pressure on yourself and don’t get upset if you can’t handle a lot right away. I’m in no hurry. We have all the time in the world so I want you to take it slow and only do what you’re comfortable doing.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief. He sounded utterly sincere.

“Then let’s do it,” she whispered. “I want to try. I don’t want to make you promises I can’t keep, so for now let’s just see what happens.”

His smile was achingly gentle and understanding. “I’m yours to command, Kylie. And I don’t make that offer lightly. Only for you. Always for you.”

“So what do I do next then?”

He rose, extending his hand to hers, a gesture of support and solidarity.

“What we do is take this to the bedroom and I’ll get the necessary rope for you to tie me to the bed. The rest is entirely up to you, baby.”

SEVENTEEN

KYLIE watched in abject fascination as Jensen calmly stripped himself of his clothing and then reached into one of his drawers for a length of rope.

He was beautiful. Raw masculinity emanated from him in waves. He was utterly perfect and he didn’t seem at all abashed by his nudity. Or his huge erection straining upward to his abdomen.

No matter how hard she tried to look somewhere—anywhere—else, she couldn’t force her gaze away from his jutting erection. And oddly it didn’t terrify her. She was fascinated by it. It—he—was a thing of beauty.

She blushed over the idiocy of considering a penis beautiful, but it belonged to a beautiful man so how could it be anything else? This man was without fault. He was physical perfection.

He turned to her, extending the rope. She took it nervously, unsure of what the hell she was supposed to do with it. But he took the lead, thank God. She may have supposed she was in control, but she was anything but. She was following his lead gratefully.

He crawled onto the bed and turned on his back, stretching as gracefully as a cat, his entire length exposed and vulnerable. Then he brought his arms over his head, placing his hands close to the spindles of his headboard.

“Tie me, baby,” he said in a husky voice that sent shivers dancing down her spine. “And then I’m yours to do with as you wish.”

Oh my. This delicious alpha male was hers for the taking. To do with whatever she wanted, and God did she want. She wanted so badly that it was a physical ache.

She crawled onto the bed and began coiling the rope around one wrist. Then she pulled it toward his other hand and secured that one as well. She tested the tautness of the rope even though she had no fears of him hurting her. But her mind needed reassurance. Her brain needed to know she was safe.

When she was finished, she sat back and let her gaze wander hungrily down his body. There was so much to look at. To touch. And taste. And suddenly she wanted it all. At the same time. He was a veritable feast laid out in front of a starving woman.

She touched his chest first. It seemed the safest place to start, and she let her hands roam over the wall of muscle, exploring the hair-roughened hollow and his taut abdomen.

His breath hissed out in a long exhalation the moment she touched him. He jerked and she yanked her hands away, worried she’d done something wrong.

“Don’t stop, baby. God, you feel so damn good. If you only knew how long I’ve waited for you to touch me like this. Don’t stop. I’m yours to touch and explore however you want. It’s all in your hands. I can guarantee there isn’t a thing I won’t love.”

Encouraged by the raw intensity—and honesty—in his voice, she returned to his body, this time roaming over his shoulders and then back down his sides, growing closer to the place she most wanted to touch.

His erection was straining upward, resting against his belly. All she had to do was slide her fingers an inch closer and she’d be touching him.

She shifted her weight so she could face him, wanting to see his reaction when she finally circled his huge c**k with her hands.

She trailed one finger up the underside where the plump vein was distended. He let out a moan and arched his h*ps upward to meet her caress. Growing bolder, she wrapped one hand around the base and gently tugged upward. When she got to the head, moisture beaded and slipped from the tip, coating her hand.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered. “I love touching you.”

“I love you touching me,” he said huskily. “You’re beautiful touching me. I keep wondering what the hell I did to deserve this. A goddess pleasuring me when I should be pleasuring you.”

She smiled. “We’ll get there. I hope.”

His gaze was serious. “We will, baby. We will. There’s no hurry and I don’t want you to ever feel pressured to give me something you can’t. I’ll wait because the end result is worth it. You’re worth it.”

Her chest swelled, knotting with emotion. He made it sound so easy, and she supposed it was. Time. They had all they needed. He’d been very clear about wanting her and waiting for as long as it took. Did he realize the enormity of such a gift?

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his belly, just an inch above where his c**k rested. He flinched and let out a gasp, giving her courage to touch him intimately with her mouth.

Carefully, she kissed the tip, just as she had his belly, but then grew bolder, flicking out her tongue to lick the head.

“Jesus,” he choked out. “You’re killing me.”

Feeling powerful, she took more control, sucking the tip into her mouth, holding him there for a long moment while she lapped at the p**cum seeping from the slit. Then she sucked him deep, enjoying his instant reaction.

She had no experience whatsoever, but her instincts took over and she let her hands roam as she continued her sensual assault with her mouth and tongue.

His chest heaved, his h*ps arching upward again, guiding his c**k deeper into her mouth. His arms strained against the ropes securing his wrists and his face was twisted in beautiful agony.

“Put your hands around me, baby. I’m about to come,” he said raggedly.

She wrapped both hands around him, feeling the thick, rigid strength of his cock. Velvet over steel. She stroked up and down, tightening her grip. Then she leaned down to lap at his balls, liking the rugged feel of his sac on her tongue.

His cry split the silence. He erupted, his release spurting onto his belly, marking the tan skin with creamy ropes of liquid. She watched in fascination as the jets of s**en spilled onto his flesh and she gently continued stroking him until at last he began to soften in her grasp.

Watching him come had been heady, unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. It left her restless, edgy and unfulfilled. She ached. Her br**sts tingled and her cl*tpulsed between her thighs. But she had no idea how to gain her own release. Now that she’d taken the leap, she was uncertain of what to do next. Or if she should do anything at all to assuage the edge of unfulfillment.

“Take off your clothes, baby.”

She yanked up her gaze in surprise.

“You’re still in control,” he reassured gently. “But you need relief. And I want to see your beautiful body. Remember, I’m still tied. Now take off your clothes and get back on the bed with me. I want to see you come.”

Shakily she got off the bed and did as he directed. Keeping her gaze averted, she slowly slipped out of her clothing, hesitating when she got to her bra and panties. It was almost as if she thought the bruises from decades ago would still show on her skin. She felt intensely vulnerable, but at the same time she was driven to follow his dictate.

She snuck a peek in Jensen’s direction only to find warm understanding burning in his dark eyes. If he’d looked at her any other way she likely would have chickened out. But it was that understanding that enabled her to go the rest of the way.

He saw to the heart of her. Knew how hard it was for her to bare herself in front of him. It made her all the more determined not to let her fears win.

Before she could back down, she yanked off her bra and pulled off her panties. Then she crawled back on the bed, kneeling beside him before finally meeting his gaze again.

“Touch yourself,” he murmured. “Pleasure yourself. Let me watch you make yourself come.”

Her eyes widened. For a moment she was at a complete loss.

“Cup your breasts. Hold them up for me and then touch your nipples. Figure out what feels good to you and then do more of that,” he encouraged.

Seduced by his husky tone and his eagerness for her to be pleased, she slowly slid her hands up her belly to cup her breasts, plumping them outward. She brushed her thumbs across the sensitive peaks, gasping at the electrical shock that seemed to jolt through her body.

“Now imagine me sucking them,” he said in a low voice. “My mouth around them, my tongue licking them.”

She closed her eyes and moaned, getting into the spirit of his seduction.

“Now put your hand between your legs,” he directed. “Spread your folds, show me that pretty pussy. But keep your other hand on your breast and play with your nipple.”

Keeping her eyes closed, not wanting to break the spell, she slipped one hand down her belly and in between her thighs. She shivered as her fingers slipped over her clit, and then, as he’d directed, she spread herself, pulling upward so he could see.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Touch yourself, baby. Make yourself come. Come for me.”

She let out a soft moan as she began to touch herself, finding the perfect rhythm. She arched upward, unable to sit still. She undulated her h*ps as she continued to exert pressure on her clit, rolling it beneath her middle finger.

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Make yourself feel good, Kylie. God, you’re beautiful. So beautiful.”

His voice was smooth and sensual, heightening her pleasure, taking her higher and higher, closer to the edge of bliss.

She could feel the stirrings of something truly wonderful. Her body tightened. Her br**sts grew even more sensitive. Every touch. Every breath. Her womb clenched, her pu**y clenched. And still she climbed even higher, getting closer and closer with every touch, with every word that came out of Jensen’s mouth.

She threw back her head with abandon, feeling wild and exotic. This wasn’t her. She’d become someone else entirely. Someone sexy, a seductress. Someone in control of her sexuality.

Never had she felt so . . . free. Unburdened. Here, nothing could touch her. Nothing could hurt or frighten her. There was only her and Jensen. And her deepest, most intoxicating fantasies.

“So f**king beautiful,” Jensen murmured.

She opened her eyes and locked gazes with him, suddenly unafraid and uninhibited. She wanted to share this with him.

“Come for me, baby. Show me your pleasure. Let me taste it.”

She slid her fingers inside her, capturing some of her moisture, and then she held out her fingers to his mouth. He sucked her finger inside, tugging at it with the suction. He licked her finger clean and let out a growl of satisfaction.

She quickly returned her fingers to her cl*tbecause she was close. So very close. And she didn’t want to lose the edge.

Faster, harder. She exerted firmer pressure and then threw back her head again, finally reaching for it. Embracing it. Letting go.

She cried out, shivering violently as her orgasm rose and broke like a huge wave. She fell forward, panting, her palms bracing her on the bed.

And suddenly she wanted Jensen’s arms around her. Wanted him touching her. Wanted his strength. Wanted to feel safe.

She tugged at his bonds, nearly too weak to untie the knots. As soon as one hand was free, he turned and worked the other hand loose, seemingly as desperate as she was to get his arms around her.

She dove into his embrace, uncaring that they were both na**d. He wouldn’t hurt her. He’d made the ultimate sacrifice. For her. He’d never hurt her. She knew that.