Burn My Hart (The Notorious Harts 2)

His control blows my mind. He is still so rock-hard. I feel his cock against my thigh as he flicks my nipples with his tongue and I shiver because all I can do is feel, and I feel almost too much.

‘I like having you as my prisoner,’ he murmurs, the words dark.

‘Even though I can’t touch you?’

‘That’s part of the appeal.’ He pushes up onto his elbows, his eyes linked to mine. ‘Do you want to touch me, Asha?’

I nod slowly. I do. I stare at his body hungrily.

‘What do you want to do to me?’

I bite down on my lower lip, thinking about that, wondering which of my dozens of kinky fantasies I’d like to play out. The truth is, he’s made all mine come true, and yet there’s still so much more I want. A lifetime of exploring Theo’s body wouldn’t be enough.

I push that thought—that dangerous incursion into my pleasure—to the back of my mind.

‘I want to go down on you,’ I say honestly, my mouth dry at the thought. ‘I want to climb on top of you and take you deep inside me.’ A grin lifts my lips. ‘I want to tie you up.’

He laughs and shakes his head. ‘Done, done and no way.’

‘Huh.’ I pout. ‘So what’s good for the goose isn’t for the gander?’

‘In this case, yeah.’

‘That doesn’t seem fair.’

‘Are you complaining?’

I shake my head slowly. ‘Not even a little bit.’

‘Good.’ He brings his mouth closer to mine, brushing a light kiss over my lips. ‘You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.’

The praise warms me all the way down to my toes.

‘What an honour,’ I tease him, but really the admission means something to me. In a relationship defined by sex, being the best he’s ever had is important and flattering and worthy of holding to my heart.

He reaches above me, untying the makeshift restraint. I flex my wrists, grabbing for the underwear and laughing when I see how stretched out it is. ‘I don’t think I’ll wear it again.’

‘I like you without underwear anyway.’

Heat flies through me.

‘In fact, I’m just going to imagine you naked beneath your clothes from now on. Deal?’

I reach up and push at his chest. ‘Deal.’ But, before he can speak, I drag my mouth to his cock and remove the condom, because I want to feel him inside me, all of him.

I take his length deep in my mouth, my body exulting in the power of this, tasting the promise of his release. His hands on my shoulders are tight and I hear his guttural cry.

‘You need to stop,’ he implores me quietly, his hips lifting a little, his hunger understandable after God knows how long of driving my body to the edge again and again.

In response, I flick his tip with my tongue. He swears, a hiss from between his lips, and then his hands are in my hair, his fingers tangling in its length as I move my mouth up and down until I taste more of him.

‘You need to stop,’ he repeats. ‘I can’t hold on.’

‘Don’t hold on.’ I lift my eyes the length of his body and stare at him for a brief moment before taking him deeper, moving faster now, curving one hand around his base and cupping him, squeezing him, as I take him all the way to the back of my throat.

He cries my name as he comes and I hold myself where I am, my mouth low over him, and then I begin to move again until he’s spent and his voice has silenced. Only the sound of his husky breathing fills the air. I let go of his cock and pull up, smiling at him and his passion-ravaged face.

‘Now imagine how much better that would have been if you’d been tied up.’