Forbidden Surrender (Forever 1)

“You don’t know how much I’ve thought about those hands wrapping around my cock.” His voice was desperate and needy. I squeezed him and he released a pained cry.

“Can I take the blindfold off?” I pleaded.

“Yes. Take it off. Everything off.”

With one hand, I pulled away the folded napkin and I gazed at what was in my other hand.

“Jesus, you’re big.”

My gaze snagged on the hard tapered lines of his pelvis. And ripped. My gaze trailed from his hips up and across steely abs and chiseled pecs pierced with silver rings to his breathtaking face, dark eyes flushed with desire. I’d seen him in his swimsuit before, but now he was completely nude, radiating raw sexual energy that stole my breath.

“I can’t fight it anymore, Kristen. I need to be inside you.”

He reached into a bedside drawer and produced a small packet. I released my grip as he roughly took his member in his own hands and wrapped himself before guiding it to my entrance. I sucked in a deep breath preparing for his size. Although I used a vibrator, Vincent looked bigger than what I was used to. I anticipated he’d impatiently thrust to the hilt, but he took his time, slowly parting the folds with the head. With how wet I was, he was easily able to slide in. He stopped when the tip was fully inside and pulled back with the same patience, slowly stroking my walls with just the head, cycling sensations of emptiness and fullness again and again. The teasing was agonizing.

“Deeper,” I begged.

He pushed deeper, unhurried, every ridge of his heated flesh firing nerves I didn’t realize I had. My mind swam in the experience.

“Faster,” I panted.

“You said slow.”

I began to regret having said those words to him during our date in St. Thomas, but then his pace quickened. I gripped his backside and pulled, aiding his thrusts as I bucked forward for stronger penetration. It’d been so long since I had sex that the pleasure from Vincent moving inside me was almost unbearable. Consumed by desire, our mouths and bodies wrestled in primal lust, cries of pleasure echoing throughout the apartment.

“You’re making me lose it, Kristen. I can’t stop.”

His thrusts became more urgent, more desperate as did my moans. Then I felt him jerk and the first wave of heat poured into me. He released a strangled growl the moment I clenched around him. He collapsed into me as my world went dark again for a moment. We laid there for a spell, neither of us speaking, just the sound of our heavy breaths and heartbeats filling the silence.

“You’re incredible,” Vincent said, lifting his face to look into my gaze.

I smiled, staring back into those dark eyes brimming with warm affection. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“I thought I was going to die there for a moment.”

“I’m not sure I haven’t.”

He smiled and kissed my cheek. “You’re still here. With me.”

Chapter Nine

We were standing among the impressive marble pillars of the library, looking out at the red brick buildings of Harvard Square. It was autumn and the red and yellow leaves fluttering down beneath the waning sun made a picturesque setting for a stupid argument about a post on my Facebook wall.

“Just tell me who he is!” the man yelled, his brown hair combed just above his bright blue eyes perfectly, as always. Together with his rimless glasses, he resembled a J Crew model.

“He’s a friend from a class. It’s nothing!”

It was the third time we’d fought that week. We were never a couple that fought a lot, but for some reason we’d been getting into more and more arguments recently. A year older, he’d graduated before me and gotten a job at his dad’s law firm in Boston. Since then, he’d visited me regularly on campus, which I was grateful for, but knowing I was surrounded by other attractive guys my age seemed to make his jealousy worse.

He looked around. “You swear it’s nothing?”

I hated having to deal with this part of our relationship. We’d been through this argument before—some guy waving at me or saying hello, sharing class notes, or asking if I wanted to go to a social event—and every time it ended with tears and hurt feelings. For both of us. It got to the point where we decided to share phone, email, and Facebook passwords.

“Oh my god, yes.”

He took another look around and held out his hand, pinky extended. “Fine. Pinky swear.”

Childish as it was, I was glad to be done with the argument. The past few months he’d been flipping out over every single guy who even looked at me, and it was a problem. I hoped I had at least avoided anything more extreme. But when I looked at his cold blue eyes, I was unsure. I glanced around sheepishly, but the campus was mostly deserted, finals having ended weeks ago.

I held out my pinky and intertwined it with his, hoping the action would appease him. His eyes flashed and he yanked me to his chest, twisting my finger savagely. I gasped, the full weight of the dread I had been carrying for weeks finally rising to the surface of my mind. As the pain erupted, hot tears flooded my eyes. My other hand shot up to pry my injured hand away from him, but he was too strong.

“Don’t ever lie to me Kristen. Never. Do you understand me? Never.”

My world blurred as tears poured down my cheeks. I tried desperately to scream for help but as I opened my mouth, his hand shot up to cover it. The world went gray.

I woke up screaming. A bundle of nerves, it didn’t help I couldn’t recognize my surroundings. Where was I?

“Kristen,” a familiar voice said, “it was just a dream. You’re okay.”

I turned to Vincent beside me. His face was full of concern and his hand was wrapped gently around my shoulder. Realization swept over me. He was mostly right, it had been a dream. Not just a dream, but I was safe for now. I turned to him.

“That must have been a bad nightmare. Do you remember it?”

I remembered it in more ways than one. It had been the breaking point with Marty. Our relationship had seemed good for a long time, but when he started getting abusive it got ugly fast. That had been over two years ago.

“Vincent, I think—” I faltered. There was no need to unload this story on him right now. I barely knew him; I had been handling Marty on my own for two years without any issue, I could keep handling him for a while longer.

He pulled me tightly against his bare chest. The warmth and hardness was immediately comforting. “It’s okay. Take a minute. You’re safe here.”