Darkest Ecstasy (8 page)

He forced a bent knee between her thighs, and she began tipping her hips forward and back, forward and back in time to the beating pulse thrumming through her body. A soft whimper slipped from her lips as the heat intensified, thanks to the friction rubbing against her delicate, swollen tissues. “Are you afraid?”

“A little,” she admitted.

“Good.” He hit a button on the elevator, and it lurched into motion. She hadn't even realized he'd stopped it. As it crawled up, up, up, he turned back around and tormented her neck with his tongue, lips, teeth until she was writhing in agony.

“Come with me,” he whispered against her neck.

She opened her eyes, having not realized she'd closed them. The doors made a deep rumbling sound as they opened. He took her hand in his and led her down the hallway to the suite at the very end. Seconds later, he had them locked inside. She glanced around the dark space. It was a small reception area, furnished with a few chairs. At the rear was a narrow corridor, she learned a few seconds later, as he escorted her to the room at the end of the hall. He opened the door and flipped on the light.

It was an office, furnished with the standard desk, chair, bookcases, and file cabinet. More than a little anxious, she stepped aside, turning toward him.

His eyes were like flickering bits of coal. Dark, simmering. He prowled toward her as she back-stepped until her rear struck something hard and low. He angled closer, bracing his hands on the desk behind her. “You don't know what you want, do you? You're not sure you're ready. You'd better make up your mind. Fast. Now.”

Like she could think in this position?

Here she was, trapped once again. This time he had her caged between his body and the desk. His eyes were telling her she should run, fast.

His face was telling her she should stay.

And that wicked curl in his lips . . . it was saying a lot of things.

“Last chance,” he whispered. “Leave now. Go. Before I get another taste of you. Because once that happens, I won't be able to stop.”

Oooh, did she like the unspoken promise in his voice. Of pleasure far beyond her imagination. Dark pleasure, like nothing she'd ever experienced.

That was it. She couldn't leave. She had to find out what that wicked gleam meant.

U
nable to speak with all the emotion swirling through her system, Michelle gave him her answer. She lifted her lips into a smile and then closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

He growled. Like a big bear. Or a wolf. A beast. A shudder quaked her.

His lips and tongue teased her tingling skin, sending little tremors buzzing through her body like electrical charges. All those buzzes and zaps arced through her, coiling in her center.

Her hands trembled as she lifted them to fist the crisp, smooth cotton of his shirt. She wanted to tear it open and explore the smooth-skinned body beneath, but she couldn't summon up enough strength. When he nipped her earlobe, she practically melted. It seemed he knew exactly what to do to make her more desperate for his next touch.

Moaning softly, she let her body fall back. He caught her, supporting her with strong but gentle hands as she reclined onto the desktop.

“Look at me,” he commanded once she was lying flat on her back.

Look at him? Gladly. It took some effort to drag her heavy eyelids up. But she was very glad she did it once she saw him.

Could there be a more beautiful man alive? She doubted it. His face could have been sculpted by a master. It was utter perfection, from the slight cleft in his chin to the arch of his brows.

“If you want me to stop what I am doing, say the word ‘red.' ”

Why would he tell me that?
She must have looked as confused as she felt because he nodded and angled upright. His face and neck were flushed as he took a visible breath and slowly let it out, mumbling something unintelligible as he exhaled.

He cleared his throat. “Do you remember the question I asked, before we came up here?”

Did she? No, she didn't. Her brain was sort of short-circuited right now. Thinking was hard. Feeling a little foolish, she pushed herself up on bent elbows and shrugged.

“I asked if you'd ever been restrained,” he reminded her.

“Oh yes. That. I remember now.”

“You said you hadn't.”

“That's right.” An image flashed through her mind. Him, angled over top of her writhing body, her arms bound together, over her head, his hips wedged between her spread legs. Her heart jumped.

“Say ‘red' if you want me to stop, if anything gets too intense. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“Do you have any health problems I need to be aware of?”

“No.”

“Okay.” He took a single step back. It seemed, from the vibe he was giving off, that he'd regained his ability to think, and he was having second thoughts about this.

She wasn't.

He needed to know that.

“Please,” she said, her voice small. “I can't believe I'm begging. That's so not me. I've never begged a man for sex. Never. But I am now.”

The corners of his lips curled slightly. He wasn't smiling, no. But she could see he was pleased. And for some reason, knowing that made her insides hop around like a pack of wild rabbits.

His hand cupped her cheek, and his gaze drilled into hers. “What is it about you? You're nothing like what I thought I was looking for. Nothing. But I can't . . .” He dragged his thumb across her lower lip.

“Can't what?” she asked, her heart in her throat.

He shook his head. Then, suddenly, he kissed her. Like the last one, this kiss was fiercely passionate. His tongue swept inside her mouth and filled her with his decadent flavor. One of his arms looped around her back, holding her up while he angled over her. She felt herself slowly easing back again until she was lying on the desk, her burning body trapped under his.

When he broke the kiss, she had to gasp to refill her lungs. His gaze raked down her body, setting every nerve inside her aflame. “I want to see you.” He grabbed the lapels of his jacket and tossed them out to the sides. “Beautiful,” he murmured, eyes fixed on her lace-covered breasts, which were aching for his touch.

Instinctively, she arched her back, pushing them higher.
Touch them,
her body was telling him.

Answering her unspoken plea, he pulled down one cup, easing her breast out. With finger and thumb, he tugged her nipple, rolling it until sharp blades of need were piercing her insides, shooting straight to the swirling heat burning between her legs.

One thought kept racing through her head as she writhed and burned beneath him. Only one.
Take me. Take me now.
But she didn't speak. She let the pleasure and the torment pulse through her in white-hot bursts. One after another. Hotter. Faster.

He slipped a hand under her back and unhooked her bra. Now she was bare from the waist up. Her skin tingled. Her nipples prickled. Hard little peaks. He pulled one into his warm, wet mouth. His tongue flickered over the tip and a blaze erupted inside her body. She cried out, swung her arms up to hold on to him. He caught them in his fists, pushed them up over her head.

“Hmmm. You can still use your hands. We're going to have to do something about that.” Moving away from her, he circled the desk. The scrape of wood echoed through the small room.

She dragged her eyelids up to see what he was doing.

He had a desk drawer open. His gaze lifted, locked to hers. “Remember, ‘red.' ”

“Red,” she repeated.

“Good.” Circling back around the end of the desk, he lifted his hands. A dark gray silk tie was draped between them. “We're going to have to improvise tonight.” He stopped at the far end of the desk. “Your hands.”

Jitters quaked through her. Slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, she sat up and extended her arms in front of her. “Do you always tie your partners up?” Even to her own ears, she sounded scared.

“Pretty much, yes. I'm asking you to trust me, by allowing me to do this. I realize that's no small thing. I promise,” he said, meeting her gaze, “I don't take it lightly.”

A shudder quaked through her whole body. Deep blue-black flames shimmered in those eyes of his. And hiding in the darkest depths was something else, something she couldn't name yet. She was mesmerized, captivated.

This man, this stranger, was tying her hands. He could do anything to her, rape her, hurt her, kill her. She didn't know him. He could be wanted in all fifty states. If nothing else, he'd proven he was nothing like the men she normally dated. He was different. He was a little dangerous. He was mysterious. And yet something told her he was trustworthy. If she said ‘red,' he would stop.

She watched through slightly glazed eyes as he tied a neat knot around her wrists. Once they were bound, he helped her lie down again and pulled on the tie, forcing her arms up, wrists over her head.

“Now, that's better.” He dragged the tip of his index finger down the center of her face, between her eyes, down her nose, over her lips, her chin. His gaze followed that finger as it traveled lower, along the sensitive skin of her neck to her collarbone. Lower, between her breasts. Her breathing sped up as she felt the heat of his gaze on her skin. The nerves lying below the surface tingled and zapped, little mini-blazes of heat sparking all over her chest.

How did he do that? How did he ignite so much heat in her with just his eyes and one little fingertip?

“You're breathing very quickly,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Better than all right, actually. But she still yearned for more. A lot more.

How much longer would he draw this out? She was in agony. Was it the anticipation that was making her so hot? Or was it the way he looked at her? The way he touched her? The way his perfect lips lifted at the corners when he was pleased?

Her fingers curled into fists as wave upon wave of wanting washed through her. Those waves swelled when he growled, “The rest of these clothes have to go.”

They did, oh yes. Most definitely. And his clothes, too. The thought of seeing that body, all of it, sent a shudder quaking through her center.

He unzipped her skirt and tugged it down over her hips. A cool draft of air gusted over her legs as he stepped away, and she shivered slightly. “Are you cold?” he asked as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties.

“Yes and no. Cold and hot.”

“Ah, good.” He gently eased her lace panties over her hips. As he slid the garment lower, over her thighs, he dragged his blunt fingernails over her skin. The slight scuff felt so good.

A sigh of pleasure slipped from her lips.

She was nude, lying on his desk, wrists bound, semi-defenseless and under his control. And, ohmygod, she was loving it.

“Now that's a picture,” he murmured, bending over her. He flicked his tongue across the sensitive skin of her lower stomach, and her spine arched, rocking her hips forward. As a pulse of need rushed to the juncture of her thighs, she squeezed her legs together. But that gave her no relief from the burning. She needed a touch. No, she needed more. She needed a hot, hard, thick cock plunging inside, stroking her to ecstasy.

If this had been either of her former lovers, they would have been done by now. This agonizingly slow, drawn-out foreplay was killing her.

“Please,” she mumbled when his deft tongue meandered its way north, toward her breasts.

“Please what?”

“I hurt.” She squirmed. She shuddered. She whimpered.

“Where?”

“All over. Everywhere.”

“Tell me,” he commanded.

“Lower.”

His tongue flicked down, toward her belly button. “Here?”

“Lower.”

Leaving a cool, damp path, it moved a tiny bit closer to where she hurt the most. Still, it wasn't nearly close enough. “Here?”

“No. Lower. Much lower.”

He stepped back, and she practically cried out in frustration. Then he picked up one of her feet and cradled it in his hand. With a fingertip, he traced a line along the arch of her foot. “Here?”

“Higher.”

Supporting her leg with his hand, he tickled her ankle with his tongue. “Here?”

“I'm going to die. I swear.”

“No, you won't die. I promise.” His tongue found a ticklish spot, at the back of her knee. He chuckled when she let out a little squeak. “You just may wish you could die.”

“Oh God.”

“I tried to warn you. Do you want to leave? You remember your safe word?”

“I remember. And no, I don't want to leave.” She squeezed her eyes shut as another blast of erotic heat blazed through her. “Just tell me you won't leave me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Burning inside.”

“I promise I won't leave you like that.” He eased her leg out and a pulse of warmth gushed between her legs. He was moving closer, slowly, too slowly. But he was getting there. Maybe if she kept letting him know how much she was suffering he would speed things up a bit.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “It's almost unbearable.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Please don't apologize. Just help me.”

“I am.” He nipped a little higher. “You'll see, soon.”

She was seeing already. Those little sharp nips were making her heart jerk and the air gust from her lungs in little puffs.

“Oh God,” she murmured as she squeezed her inner muscles around aching, pulsing emptiness.

“Patience, sweet. You must learn patience.”

She was in no mood for a life lesson at the moment. She whimpered to let him know that.

And then there was a touch. There. Between her legs. Too soft. Too brief. A tiny flick. She jerked, legs, arms, chest tight.

“Easy, sweet.” His tongue drew a meandering line up the inside of her thigh. “Damn, you smell good.”

“Please,” she uttered, unable to say anything else.

He audibly inhaled. “I can't wait to taste you.”

She couldn't wait for him to taste her. She couldn't wait for him to do other things, too, like plunge deep inside, stuffing her empty center full of hard cock. She bent her knees and pulled her legs open and back, brazenly exposing her burning center to him. She'd never done anything like that before. In the past, she'd had sex in a dark room with the covers pulled up to her chin. Her partner had climbed on top, shoved his cock inside, and thrust away until he was done.

This wasn't sex. Not the sex she knew. This was torture. This was torment. This was agonizing ecstasy.

The pounding of her heartbeat was almost painful. It sent bursts of heat pulsing through her whole body, from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. She couldn't help clenching her stomach, rocking her hips forward and back, forward and back, in time to the heavy rhythm of her need.

Another soft touch nearly made her crazy with need. A tiny, fleeting touch to her labia. She clenched and relaxed the heated tissues, wishing something would slip inside to stroke away her suffering.

“So wet,” he whispered.

“Yes. Wet.”

“So hot,” he added.

“Burning.”

“Mmmm.” His fingertip slipped between her labia, delving deeper but not piercing her opening.

Her legs trembled. The air rushed from her lungs. She tensed up, everywhere, soles of her feet, her neck, her face.

“Relax.”

Relax? Was he kidding? She whimpered again.

“Is this what you're looking for?” That naughty finger pushed a little deeper, slipping between her nether lips and barely dipping into her tight canal.

In response, a white-hot inferno blazed through her insides. She curled her fingers so tightly her nails dug into her palms. Oh yes, that was what she wanted. But deeper. Harder.

“Yessss,” she said, arching her back, willing his invading digit to plunge inside, all the way. It did delve a tiny bit farther before withdrawing. She couldn't help whimpering when it didn't return.

 

“Damn, you're so wet,” Talen murmured as he inhaled deeply, drawing Michelle's scent into his nose. She smelled so good. He imagined she tasted even better. He had to find out.