And…” She stepped out of his embrace. “I guess I’ll be leaving here, get out of your way.
I— I… Thank you for last night, for keeping me safe again.”
Leaving? Not if he could help it. Not ever. “You’re welcome.”
Jack waited. She had something more to say. Her pensive gaze told him it weighed on
her mind. Was she going to ask more questions about Kayla? Recant her fantasy? Tell
him to get lost? Impatience gnawed on his composure like a rabid dog with a juicy bone.
But he waited.
“Thank you for telling me about your ex-wife. I know it wasn’t easy. I appreciate you
explaining… It was a relief to know you didn’t leave the playroom because the idea of a
ménage was too shocking for you.”
He regretted her thinking that for an instant. Regretted it like hell. And he planned to
make it up to her.
“Cher.” He crossed the room and took her shoulders in his grasp. “Nothing you say
or do can shock me. Or make me stop wanting you.”
She lifted her face to his with a sad smile, one that told him she was holding back
tears. And he, the man with control whispered about in hushed tones among D/s circles
all over Louisiana, couldn’t wait another second to touch her.
Thrusting his hands into her hair, he anchored her underneath him and captured her
mouth in a blistering kiss. He possessed, unable to stop himself, unable to temper his
thirst to ravage her lips, make her melt and moan…and give in. Hell, he didn’t even try to
stop.
Seize, devour, dominate. It was like a chant in his brain, over and over, as he slanted
his mouth over hers. Sinking deeper into the heaven of her, he allowed his tongue to find
hers and intertwine in an urgent dance of need.
Beneath him, Morgan moaned, the sound vibrating into his body. When had he not
wanted her? When had he ever looked at her and not wanted to call her his?
And last night…he’d dreamed of her again. Not as he’d seen her on the wraparound
porch of his little swamp cottage with the sun glinting on her hair. No. He’d dreamed of
tomorrow, of her in his bed, wearing his pendant, submitting to the burn of his
demands, accepting his heart the way he cherished hers.
“Cher,” he whispered against her lips. “J’suis fou d’te caresser.”
I’m desperate to touch you. He’d never said anything more true.
“Jack, we shouldn’t…”
He heard the catch in her voice, the regret. Damn, he had to change that. Erase it.
Replace it with the sharp edge of joy, the raging burn of pleasure. With complete
submission.
“This morning,” he murmured against the sweet curves of her swollen lips. “Give me
this morning. We’ll sort everything else out later.”
Morgan looked up at him, her blue eyes so clear, like a bright December day. And just
now, they telegraphed her uncertainty tangled with her need to give in. But that
overthinking mind of hers made her hesitate.
“Morgan.” He dropped his voice an octave, leaned in, pressed his advantage. “Don’t
say no.”
Closing her eyes, the long lashes fluttered down to pale cheeks ripe with a hint of a
rosy flush. A self-recriminating smile twisted her full lips. “I’ve never been able to say no to you.”
Jack hoped to erase that word from her vocabulary, starting today. But first… they
had to face her ultimate fantasy.
His ultimate nightmare.
Tension raked at him, scraping at his insides until he felt pissed and…what was the
right word? Vulnerable. Yeah. His gut clenched. And he started to sweat.
Despite all that, he had to know, once and for all, if he and Morgan could make it.
In the back of Jack’s head lurked one haunting fact: Morgan’s total submission to him
would hand him his ultimate revenge on a fucking silver platter—to have Brandon’s
fiancée begging him to master her. Telling him that she loved him while clawing at his
back and coming all over his cock. Sweet…but the idea of revenge now sat sour in his
gut. Nothing about the way he wanted Morgan, about the need that turned him inside
out and focused with unerring demand on this woman, had a damn thing to do with
retribution. Morgan. Just Morgan.
She’d come to mean everything to him.
And if Morgan returned to Brandon after today, well…then his former buddy would
leave his heart gutted and have the last laugh—again.
Damn, he wished he could avoid telling her the truth for just a bit, until he had time
to assure Morgan of his feelings, of their rightness. She was still skittish, but he had to
move fast or he was going to lose her.
“Stand in the middle of the room,” he commanded into the soft morning air.