Dare to Submit (7 page)

She blinked at his dominant tone.

Good. Because it was time for him to take charge.

SEVEN

A
manda had operated on autopilot tonight, letting her desire take her where she needed to go. And she wasn’t just talking sexual desire. She’d boarded the plane to New York, better judgment be damned, landed, and headed straight for the club. One look at Decklan and she knew why she’d come. To experience the way she felt when he was near. The stomach-churning excitement, the heightened sense of awareness he inspired. All her senses were engaged.

Sight
. She couldn’t stop staring at him, his tanned, handsome face, white teeth when he deigned to smile, strong jaw, and the integrity she felt he possessed deep inside.
Hearing
. His deep voice caused ripples of awareness throughout her body, drawing her into his orbit, making her wet with his husky commands.
Smell
. Every inhale made her more aware of him as a potent male, and his musky scent that was pure Decklan turned her insides to mush.
Taste
. The memory of his kiss kept her tossing and turning in her bed at night, her nipples hard and begging for his touch and her pussy so wet she’d have to make herself come with her own hands before she could find any respite in sleep.

And
touch
. Oh God, when he touched her, cupped her neck in his strong hand, she melted, willing to be at his beck and call, even if it meant divulging personal secrets. She shivered at how much she’d revealed to him about her insecurities, but he wasn’t using them against her. No, he seemed to embrace the things about her she’d been taught to hate.

The way he waited patiently for her to respond to his command, knowing with certainty she would, allowed her to give over. Although she wanted to touch him further, to outline that hard, thick cock with her hands, gauge his length, and ultimately
taste
him, she stopped all motion and lifted her hand.

“Good girl,” he said in a panty-melting voice. “Now hand me your underwear.”

She blinked, certain she hadn’t heard him correctly.

“Give me your panties.” He held out his hand.

She swallowed hard, her sex swelling at the command. “I’m not wearing any.”

He let out a shuddering groan. At least she wasn’t alone in this whirlpool of need.

“Spread your legs.”

She did as he commanded, sliding her thighs apart. At least she’d worn a flirty skirt that hit above the knee, protecting her rear end from the carriage seat.

“More,” he ordered.

She spread her legs even wider.

He placed the blanket over the top of her skirt, covering her from prying eyes that didn’t exist. At least if the driver turned around, he wouldn’t see Decklan’s hand beneath the blanket, under her skirt, his fingers skating along her damp outer folds. The roughened pads of his fingertips glided along her sensitized flesh.

“Oh God.” She moaned aloud.

“Shh. I don’t want to have to gag you.”

Gag her
? Here?

“You’ll be quiet?” he asked in that dark voice that gave her a rush.

She nodded quickly.

He kissed her jaw, licked her pulse point, and continued to tease her slick sex. “You’re beautiful.”

She shook her head—out of habit—and he pinched her clit. Pain radiated through her core.

“Are you calling me a liar?” he asked.

She shook her head. Tears threatened. Not because he’d hurt her physically. No, that pain had almost immediately grown into something hot and sweet. Something good. She wasn’t really sure why the emotional tears were ready to come.

“Then believe what I’m saying. You’re gorgeous. Do you want to know the first thing I noticed about you? Your breasts,” he continued without waiting for her to reply.

He shifted in his seat. One hand covered her mound, and as he ground his palm against her sex, waves of wonderful sensation took her to another, higher plane. She floated on the cloud of passion he created, his large hand causing ripples of desire to coil tighter and tighter around her.

And with his other hand? He reached beneath her shirt and cupped one breast hard. “They were so lush and full,” he said, tweaking her nipple with his fingers, pulling at the already aching, distended peak. Moisture flooded from her sex into his waiting hand.

He groaned his approval. Slid one finger inside her wet heat. Her inner walls clamped around him, and she bit back a moan. All the while, he continued to talk, his sexy voice lulling her into that quiet space in her head where all that mattered was him, that he liked what he saw in her, and she believed him.

“They were so big and full,” he said, bringing her back to herself. Talking about her body tended to do that. “And ripe, plumping over the corset, just made for me to stroke, lick … and bite.”

He pinched her nipple, and the pain had a direct line to her pussy, the need so deep she threw her head back and gritted her teeth to suppress a scream.

“I wondered if your nipples were rose-colored or peach.” He added a second finger, thrusting into her along with the first. “But then I got distracted by your ass. Those cheeks are made for my hands. I wanted to squeeze those globes so hard I’d see handprints the next day and know you’re mine. Know that I thrust deep inside your wet pussy and felt you grind and clench around me while you came.”

As he spoke, he pressed hard against her clit, and she bucked into his hand, rotating her hips, seeking deeper, more constant contact. He didn’t stop her. Didn’t seem to mind her frenzied state. Merely met her desire with a third finger, harder thrusts. “Like I said, so damned beautiful.”

She whimpered and rocked against his hand, his fingers filling her, her harsh pants loud to her ears. He ground his hand in small circles, and she built toward climax, the fresh air around her, the
clickety-clack
of the horse’s hooves, the city sounds all blurring together in her head.

“Oh God.”

“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth. “That’s it. Ride me,” he whispered darkly in her ear. “Just like that horse you want to ride. Take what you need.”

She rocked her pelvis around and around against his hard hand, the pressure building. So close. “I’m coming!”

Just as she was about to scream, he clamped a hand over her mouth, the unexpected action necessary to preserve their privacy, but it was hot and erotic at the same time. Her entire body lost to sensation and the pressure of his hand hard against her mound, her hips gyrating in never-ending circles. She came, the most exquisite climax of her life overtaking her.

*     *     *

The cab that returned them to the club after the carriage ride was an exercise in pure frustration for Decklan, while a satisfied Amanda curled into his side. The drive from Manhattan to his house was even more difficult. Amanda dozed in the passenger seat, leaving him surrounded by her delicious scent and with an erection that needed to be handled. Soon.

If the physical ache were his only issue, he’d be set. But Amanda had done the impossible. She’d made her way inside him, and he’d already accepted this was a hell of a lot more than a one-night stand. Was this how Gabe had felt on meeting Isabelle? If so, Decklan was finally beginning to understand how his solitary brother had become obsessed, engaged, and ultimately married.

Amanda was chipping away at boundaries Decklan had always thought he needed to live, breathe, and just
be
. He needed control. She shredded his. He’d refused to care about anyone but his siblings. He didn’t allow women close, but she’d gotten in. He cared.

He wanted to ease the pain of the young girl whose mother had done severe damage to her self-esteem, and be there for the beautiful woman she’d become. Not that she knew or accepted the truth about herself, and maybe that was part of her appeal. He recognized her vulnerability because it ran deep inside him too. She feared she couldn’t be loved as is. He feared love because it meant he could be left and shattered again. With every minute that passed, he was afraid it was too late to halt the inevitable.

Once he parked, he woke Amanda and kept her close as he guided her up to his apartment. An older couple joined them in the elevator, and he clenched his jaw during the slow ride up, placing Amanda in front of him, blocking any view of his obvious erection. It hurt like hell, his cock pressed hard and ready against the confining denim.

The moment his apartment door closed behind him, Decklan’s control snapped. He lifted Amanda and settled her on the heavy oak dining room table.

“Something tells me this isn’t the intended use of furniture,” she said, a sexy grin lifting her lips.

He shrugged. “I don’t know about that. It’s for eating, isn’t it?” He lifted her skirt and slid her toward him, parting and holding her thighs open with both hands.

Her glistening pussy lips beckoned, and he leaned down, treating himself to a thorough lick of her delicious juices.

A shudder shook her frame. “Oh Decklan.”

The sound of his name was hell on his restraint, but he managed to hang on. She arched her hips toward his mouth, and he nibbled at her, teasing, tasting, biting, bringing her to the brink before deliberately stopping.

“Please, no. Don’t stop,” she practically wailed, her body trembling beneath him as she fought against his firm grip on her legs.

He nuzzled her thighs with his nose and mouth, then released her long enough to pull a condom from his pocket. He unzipped his jeans and shed them in one smooth shove down his legs. He covered himself quickly and grasped her legs once more. A low, shuddering sound escaped her throat, impaling him with a deep sense of satisfaction.

Because he liked holding on to her, he realized. Though he enjoyed the power he possessed, it wasn’t the same sense of control he normally sought. This was a different kind of satisfaction. One that came from knowing she craved his touch, craved
him
as much as he did her.

It was mutual. And that mattered to him for the first time. The urge to thrust into her was strong, but so was the unusual urge to tease, play, and please her again. He grasped his cock in one hand and ran the length along her wet, needy sex.

She sucked in a shallow breath. Her body bucked on the table. He didn’t let up, teasing her clit, gliding his hard erection over and over the tiny bud that gave so much pleasure.

“You like that?” he asked.

She moaned a reply.

He chuckled through gritted teeth and circled his cock over her damp mound, pushing himself down harder, deliberately stimulating her to the point of no return. She slapped her hands against the tabletop, her back arched, her body convulsing, as low groans accompanied her climax.

He had her just where he wanted her, lost to sensation, but waited until the tremors ebbed before parting her sex with his fingertips and pressing the head of his cock home. She was slick and ready for him yet still tight. He slid out and pressed in once more, feeling the drag and pull as he plunged in, his body snug and buried inside her.

He glanced down, taking in the sight of her gripping and holding him. “Look.”

She pushed onto her elbows. Glanced down, her chocolate eyes full of need.

“So fucking good, right? Watch us.” He slid out slowly, his cock damp with her arousal, then thrust back. In. Out. In. Out.

“God, Decklan. I feel all of you.” She bent her knees, bracing her feet against the table, sighing in pleasure as the move sucked him in deeper.

Shit, she undid him. His emotions raw, his body on fire, the time for play was over.

“Hang on, baby.” He gripped her hips and hammered into her, her body sliding on the table, only his hands keeping her in place.

If he thought for a second he was hurting her, he’d let up, but her cries were of passion, and damn, they were hot. She clenched around him, milking his cock with her hot pussy. He wasn’t going to last long and wanted her with him when he blew.

He was so damned close; sweat slickened his skin, and he drove into her once, twice, and on the third time, he slid a hand between them and pressed on her clit. That’s all it took. She convulsed around him, and he stilled against her, spilling everything he had inside her.

As he shook with aftershocks, still catching his breath, she clasped her hands around his wrists. He caught his breath, his immediate instinct to pull free.

“Oh God, I’m still coming.” She ground herself against him, her small hands gripping him, her nails digging into his skin.

And suddenly what a woman wanted during sex meant more than what he’d always thought he needed.

EIGHT