Bound to Please(7)

And she wanted to give him that power over her.

How had he brought out this side of her so fast? Because she wanted to sink to her knees before him, give herself to him right then. She’d forgotten what that craving was like, how encompassing it could be.

She shook her head. All this talk about leather and bondage and spanking had her head spinning, had her acting crazy.

Instinct told her to run, but then he pulled her to him and cupped her face between his hands. “I’m going to kiss you, but only if you promise to come to my show and then wait for me afterward.”

“What if I hate the way you kiss?”

“You won’t.”

“You’re so sure of yourself?”

He lightly stroked the top of her ear. “Yes.”

She had no intention of going to his show, but he didn’t need to know that. She pulled him down toward her. She loved the way a man’s neck felt in her palm, and she closed her eyes and savored the seconds before their first kiss. Then his lips touched hers briefly and she opened her mouth, slid her tongue gently toward his. She tasted him. Took pleasure in the easy way they connected.

She’d forgotten what a kiss could be like. How it could make her legs tingle. How it set loose butterflies in her belly. How it melted her.

His hands were roaming her back, pressing her body against his. Desire hit her like lightning, shooting through her veins in a hot bolt. Their kiss became harder, more intense. His hands held her steady as he explored her mouth, and she groaned against his lips.

Slowly, he moved his fingertips from her shoulder to graze the outside of her breast, down her rib cage and over her hip bone until his hand clenched around her upper thigh. With two steps he had her backed up against the wall. She went limp as he covered her, until she was sandwiched between his hot body and the hard concrete, still warm from the day’s muted sun.

His hands were in her hair, loosening the strands. Stroking and pulling, pulling until she gasped from the sharp sting. Her legs quivered and he brought her closer, tilting her head so he could run his tongue across her teeth in just such a way it sent little quivers shooting through her. When he brought her hands together and stretched her arms to hold them high above her head, she allowed it.

How easily she followed his lead. How easy it was to let him direct her. How could this be happening so fast? The feeling was too intense, and it was exactly what she was afraid of. Letting go, craving something she couldn’t control. Craving the need to let go.

So why did it feel so good?

He released her arms, but she kept them over her head and she felt his hands at her chest, steady as he undid the first few buttons of her blouse. Still he kissed her. His knuckles were warm on her skin as he spread the fabric and then his fingertips found her nipple. She gasped into his mouth as he pinched, twisted. The pain shot through her, straight to her sex.

Ash, the others, had always been gentle.

She realized she did not want Mark to be gentle.

She was getting wet. Wet between her legs, but she didn’t want him to touch her there, not yet. She wanted to feel the void, feel the want. The journey was as good as the destination, and she wanted to enjoy every moment of the ride, make it last.

Which was bad. Very bad. This was supposed to be a quickie, nothing more. She pulled back. “Do you have a condom?”

He stepped between her legs and yanked up her skirt, lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips. She held him between her thighs as he pushed his denim-clad erection against her panties, which were now moist and damp. “Mark. Please tell me you have a condom.”

“Yeah, I have one in my pocket.” He sounded so calm. How could he be so calm when she was so quickly becoming undone?

“Thank God.” She rubbed her pulsing sex against him, sliding against the buttons of his jeans, letting them grate at her swollen flesh through her underwear. The muscles in his shoulders bunched beneath her hands, thrilling her. She could come, just like this, with a stranger.

He continued to kiss her, stroke her, wrap her hair in his fist. Grind his cock between her legs until she was begging him. “Please, Mark. Condom.”

“Come, Ruby.”

“I will, I promise. As soon as you put on the condom and we… you know. Do it.” She whispered the last two words.

He shook his head, and—damn him—he seemed to be biting back a smile. Again. “No, I mean come to the show. You obviously like the way I kiss.”

She was panting as if she’d been running, and she had to fight to catch her breath. “Why do you care if I go later?”

By now her neat ponytail was practically nonexistent, and he wrapped a lock of hair around his finger. “Because then I can see you afterward.”