Below my belly button.
His lips follow his hands' path.
He kisses my neck. My chest. My stomach.
Lower.
Lower.
Almost.
My breath catches in my throat. No one has ever been this close to me. I don't know how it's supposed to feel. If I'm doing everything right.
His fingers curl into my thighs.
He pins my legs to the bed. "You smell fucking amazing." His voice is a low growl. It's raw. Animal.
It's the complete opposite of the Blake I know. That guy is an uptight suit. This one is completely undone.
My body relaxes as he groans against my thigh. He wants this too. He must. He has me tied up. He has me under his control.
I squirm as he drags his lips up my thigh. My legs fight his hands.
He pins me harder. Digs his nails into my skin. It hurts, but in a way that feels good.
He moves closer.
Closer.
There.
He runs his tongue over my folds. His mouth closes on my left side. He sucks hard.
Pleasure overwhelms me. It's intense and it's unlike anything I've ever felt before.
He's warm. Wet. Soft. But hard too.
I…
Uh…
Fuck.
My legs go slack.
I try to reach for something but my hands are bound. There's no way for me to contain the sensation. All I can do is feel it.
He draws shapes with his tongue. A circle, a triangle, a star, a heart. Romantic. The thought dissolves into the air.
Everything else fades away.
Everything fades into pleasure.
I'm at his mercy.
And he's taking me so fucking high.
He flicks his tongue against me. Soft. Then hard. Fast. Slow.
Pleasure jolts through me. It's intense. It's almost too much to take.
He licks me again. Again.
My legs fight his hand. But he's got me pinned. His nails sink into my skin. Harder. That hint of pain pushes me higher. It makes everything more intense.
An orgasm builds up inside of me.
With the next flick of his tongue, I come.
I shake. I shudder. I groan.
He pulls back for a moment, then his mouth is on me again. He licks me with long, fast strokes.
It's a lot.
It hurts.
But in a good way.
"Blake." I groan his name again and again. It's the only word in my universe. He's the only thing in my universe. His lips. His groans. Those strong hands.
He winds me up. He pushes me all the way to the edge. I'm so close I'm going to snap. It's too much. It's more than I can take.
Then I'm there. The pressure inside me releases. Pleasure spills through my body. It knocks me over like a wave.
My muscles relax.
I sink into the bed, shaking as I come down.
Blake pushes himself onto his knees. He looks down at me the way a lion looks at its prey.
Like he's going to devour me.
Fuck, he really is a sight to behold. He's tall and broad, with chiseled muscles. And his, he's…
I've seen plenty of naked guys in figure drawing classes. But never hard.
He unwraps the condom and rolls it over his cock. I force my eyes to meet his. But it's too intense. It's too intimate.
No. It's just intimate enough.
I understand this Blake.
I understand exactly what he wants from me.
And I trust him to give me what I need.
He arranges my legs flat against the bed again. Then he brings the weight of his body against mine.
I soak up the feel of him as I sink into the foam mattress.
He spreads my legs wider. The tip of his cock strains against me. The rubber tugs for a moment. Then that fades and all I feel is his warmth.
He slides inside me.
Fuck.
It's intense.
Not painful, not really. Just intense. Like I'm so full I'm going to burst.
But that feels good in its own way.
Blake plants his hands outside my shoulders. He pushes into me. He goes deeper.
The discomfort fades.
I'm just full.
Whole.
Instinct takes over.
I arch my hips to push him deeper.
I go to bring my arms around him, and my wrists catch on the restraints. I'm not in control. Blake is.
It makes my sex clench.
Which makes him growl.
His lips press against my neck. Then his teeth. A soft scrape. Then a harder one.
It hurts, but in a good way. Like he's claiming me. Like I'm his.
His hips shift against me.
He moves faster. Harder. It hurts for a minute, then it feels so damn good.
I arch my back, meeting his movements, pushing him deeper.
It feels so good.
So right.
This is why people write pop songs. This is why people go to war. This is why people hand over their body to a near stranger.
This is everything.
His nails scrape against my thighs.
It hurts, but that's not what grabs my attention. No, it's this animal version of Blake.
I let my eyelids press together.
I surrender to sensation.
Everything mixes together—pain, pressure, pleasure, need.
His breath speeds. His thighs shake.
His lips part with a sigh.
He's almost there.
I don't know how I know, but I do.
He's about to come and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
It spurs me on.
The tension in my sex winds tighter.
He moves harder.
Faster.
There.
The pressure inside me unwinds as I come. It spills through my pelvis, my thighs, my stomach. I feel it everywhere.
Then he's there, moving faster and harder, groaning against my neck.
Groaning my name.
He tears at the sheets as he comes. His cock pulses inside me. His muscles stiffen then relax.
He's mine. It's only for a brief moment, but I feel it as clearly as I've ever felt anything.
When he's done, he collapses next to me. His expression is calm. Relaxed. Spent. I've never seen him like that. I like it. A lot.
He slides off the bed, discards of the condom, and returns.
His gaze hardens as he gives me a long once-over. "Are you okay?"
I nod.
He unties me. He's ca
reful about checking my wrists, stretching them, pressing his lips against them.
Then he pulls me into his arms and plants a kiss on my lips.
It's soft. Sweet, even.
Then he pulls away. Climbs off the bed. "You can stay as long as you want."
"Thanks." He takes a step towards the door. "Make yourself comfortable. Jordan will take you home whenever you're ready. If there's an emergency, I'll be in my office."
I nod like it's normal he's fleeing the scene. "Sure."
"Goodnight." He steps into the hallway and pulls the door closed.
Okay…
I've never had sex until now, but I'm pretty sure that's abnormal behavior.
His terms are clear. The affection is fake. The carnal desire is real. I don't get soft kisses and sweet whispers when we're alone. And I don't want them.
It's better keeping things separate.
I climb off the bed and examine the room. There isn't much besides the bed. The bookshelf in the corner is packed with never-before-read classics. Books for show.
The attached bathroom is gorgeous, all stainless steel, Italian marble, and an enormous tub with jets and imported bubble bath.
I run the water until it's just right then climb in. This thing is practically a pool. It's the tub of my dreams. But I can't relax.
Something feels off.
Once I'm clean, I climb out, wrap myself in a towel, and return to the main room.
My clothes are folded on the couch. Not the pink chiffon dress but the jeans and t-shirt I wore this morning.
The apartment is quiet. Moonlight flows in through the big windows. A sliver of yellow light flows out from under the door in the corner. Blake's office.
I guess I inspire him. Something like that.
I plant on the couch and try to get comfortable. This is a beautiful apartment, but I can't see any of that.
I can't see anything but that closed door.
It's locked and I'm not welcome there.
I'm not welcome anywhere but his bed.
Chapter Eight
Lizzy stares into the vanity mirror as she brings the pencil to her waterline. She draws a perfect line of espresso. "See? Easy."
Uh…
The makeup artist doing our lesson looks to me. "What do you think, Kat? Are you ready to try it again?"
How can drawing on your face be this hard? I'm not exactly Picasso, but I'm well above average when it comes to pen to paper.
Lizzy hands over the pencil.
I cross and uncross my legs. I stare at my reflection in the vanity mirror as I bring the pencil to my eye.
I trace the line along my lashes. The top. Then the bottom. It's not too bad. A little messy. But close.