Surrender to Temptation Part IV: Tempted to Entice (5 page)

“Once more.” I was lifted yet again and twisted, my front again pressed into the bed, my ass presented fully. The pain from the clamps on my nipples eased a bit when I rested them on my bed, but I could feel blood rushing to the spot where the metal pinched into my skin, and found that tips were becoming quite numb. It was an incredibly strange mix of sensations.

“Now.” Zach pulled one final object from his magic bag of tricks. He held it out so that I could see, and when my eyes took in the pale wood of what was unmistakably a paddle, one side polished to a shine, the other covered with some sort of fur, I shook my head vehemently.

“No way.” I just wanted him to fuck me already—was that really too much to ask? I’d whipped him, I had clamps on my nipples, and he had told me that I wasn’t permitted to close my legs. I didn’t think I could handle anything else.

Zach stilled, and his face when he looked down at me was deadly serious.

“Do you truly mean ‘no,’ Devon?” His eyes searched my face for the truth. “Are you safe-wording on me?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. If I used my safe word, then this—this entire strange, sensory, emotional journey was completely over.

No. I wasn’t going to end things now.

Inhaling deeply as I thought of that paddle smacking against the bare skin of my ass, I buried my face in the covers, waiting for him to do as he would.

“We’ll only do ten blows tonight. You’ve been through a lot.” I choked on my own saliva at his pronouncement.
Only
ten blows?

Shit.

“Count for me, Devon.” This was the only warning I had, and then the hard side of the wooden paddle was smacking against the flesh of my right ass cheek. I cried out as fire spread across my skin.

“One.” I sucked in air as I waited for the second blow. My ass burned against the cool air.

“Two!” This was hit against the other side of my butt. It burned just as much.

Three, four. Nine, ten. I screamed out the last number, the paddle on my already-burning flesh just too much for me to handle. Tears leaked out the sides of my eyes as I clutched my fingers into the sheets, gasping as I tried to catch my breath.

Behind me I could hear that Zach’s breath was labored, as well. I knew that if I turned around, I would find him as hard as he had ever been, ready to plunge himself into my waiting heat.

First, something soft pressed against the heated skin of my rear. I winced and shied away from the touch until I realized that he was rubbing the fur side of the paddle over my abraded skin.

Though strange at first, I finally arched into the sensation, which was cool and refreshing and oh-so soft.

Then the paddle went away. I heard it hit the ground and braced myself, knowing what was coming.

It was still a shock when Zach grabbed my waist, pressed my scorched behind to his pelvis, and seated himself inside my pussy in one rough thrust. I couldn’t hold back any longer and screamed as I felt myself filled to the edge of discomfort.

He wasn’t gentle, and he was big. He held me open with the hard muscles of his thighs. I couldn’t close my legs against the onslaught of sensation, and as such had to take his entire length and girth into my body, which fought against the intrusion.

“Aah!” He was so incredibly big, and I had nowhere to move to alleviate the sensation. As he began to thrust, his strokes deep and fast and rough, the pain tore an intense excitement from my very core, and I felt myself beginning to shudder around him.

“Not yet.” Sliding his hands between my torso and the bed as I began to tense in anticipation of climax, Zach’s fingers found the tips of my breasts and, in one quick movement, tugged the clamps off.

“Fuck!” Blood rushed back into the numb tips, making them so incredibly sensitive that the sheets dragging back and forth over them sent me over the edge. I screamed long and loud as my climax shattered my world, my body wracked with the pleasure that Zach had introduced me to.

“No more.” He drew his erection from my drenched heat and rolled me onto my back. Stepping in between my splayed legs, he pressed back inside of my pussy and at the same time, bent and sucked a still-burning nipple into his warm, wet mouth.

I felt myself beginning to climb again. As he suckled my breast, he began to roll my clit between sure fingers.

The pleasure slammed back through me, and it rolled on and on. Dimly, as if from a distance, I heard Zach shout at me to remove his beads.

As if pushing through a fog of pleasure, I reached behind him and fumbled for the ring. Tugging as hard as I could while my own pleasure continued to crash over me, I felt the first bead give way, then the second, then the final two at once.

He pulled his cock out of my heat as I ripped the beads from his body. He shouted, his voice hoarse, and then I felt semen splatter wetly across my skin, scalding the tender flesh of my stomach.

I closed my eyes, wanting to savor every nuance of sensation. When I opened them again briefly, I saw Zach standing over me. Those incredible eyes of his regarded me with satisfaction, not a little bit of pride, and something else that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

I smiled up at him sleepily, then closed my eyes again, wanting to hold on to the bliss that was drifting throughout me.

For the first time in a long time, I felt at peace.

***

The first rays of morning light were washing over the bed when we finally settled down to sleep. I basked in the lemon yellow sunshine as I lay beside Zach on the bed.

I was wearing one of his T-shirts. He was wearing nothing. The covers had disappeared off of the bed and onto the floor sometime in the night, and so I snuggled into his side for warmth in the chilled early air.

I couldn’t remember a time when I had felt happier, really truly happy, not like I was just pretending.

After Zach had tenderly rubbed an ointment made of arnica and crisp-smelling tea tree into my tender bottom, he took me into his massive bathtub and washed off the traces of our passion with warm water and kisses. After an hour of soapy groping, we had fallen into his bed and made love again.

My little minx.
He had whispered the words into my ear as he soaped my skin, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he realized what he had said. Either way, the tender endearment made my heart flutter and my insides melt.

Even without paddles, anal beads, or nipple clamps, he took to me to places that I had never even dreamed existed.

I was exhausted, but it was wonderful. It seemed like it was too good to be true when Zach spoke.

“Let’s go to Cambria.” I propped myself up on an elbow so that I could look down at his face. He seemed to be serious, and I felt my heart clench in my chest.

“Why?” My feelings had intensified during the night, to the point that I would go anywhere he asked me to.

Though I knew that I shouldn’t, I couldn’t squelch the hope that maybe, just maybe, he had feelings for me, too. Feelings that went beyond sex and his compulsion to dominate me.

I watched Zach shift uneasily under my scrutiny, and bit my teeth into my tongue. He had been so carefree, so easy during the long night. I didn’t want to remove all of that amazing progress by saying the wrong thing.

“I love Cambria. You love Cambria.” Rolling slightly, he pillowed his head on his hands. “A whole weekend in which I get to pleasure you however I want to, in a place we both love. Sounds like a good idea to me.”

My fingers itched to trace over the scarlet line on his back, the contusions where the whip had cut through his perfect skin. I knew that if I did, it would remind him of all of the shadows that had led him to demand that I rain those blows down on him.

Once again, I bit my tongue. I just wanted to enjoy the pleasure of his company, this easy togetherness, while it lasted, and I didn’t think that that was too much to ask.

“Sounds like a good idea to me, too.” Unable to resist, I feathered my fingers through the silk of his hair, inhaling the scent that rose from the touch.

As I eased myself back down beside him on the bed, he burrowed into the mattress, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. Before he nodded off, he raised his head, something to tell me before he forgot.

“We’ll sleep as long as we want, then Charles can drive us out.” Content, he lay back down, leaving me frozen and unhappy.

“Um, Zach. Can’t . . . can’t we just go ourselves? Just the two of us?” I had found that I liked Charles, I truly did. But he in no way factored in to the picture I had of Zach and me away from the city, a chance to work past that shell that he held around himself so tightly.

Beside me, I felt Zach stiffen. Though he didn’t move, all vestiges of sleep were gone from his voice when he spoke.

“Charles has to come, Devon. I don’t drive. We’ve talked about this.” He rolled more fully onto his side, indicating that the conversation was now over.

The idyllic peace that I had felt was gone, burnt away in that one quick moment. Agitation filled me up, anger that he had such ridiculous rules about his life—rules that were affecting me, too—but that he couldn’t, wouldn’t offer me an explanation. Or even compromise the slightest bit.

“I can drive, Zach. Then it will be just the two of us.” To me this sounded entirely logical—in fact, it made far more sense than having someone who was not a part of this relationship drive us all the way out there, only to spend his time waiting until we decided to go back again.

“No.” He still didn’t sit up, and I felt like thumping him over the head with a pillow. The issue wasn’t closed until we both agreed, and I didn’t agree.

“Zach, this doesn’t make sense. I can drive. I have a valid license. Please.” My voice became softer. I wasn’t going to beg, but I found that I wanted this time away with him quite desperately. “I want to be alone with you.”

Finally Zach sat up, and when he twisted on the mattress to face me I felt as though cold water was slowly trickling down my body. His face was set in a cruel sneer, and his eyes looked like black ice.

“This isn’t a relationship where we give and take and talk things through, Devon.” Standing, he looked down at me with a ruthless expression, and I suddenly felt silly to be wrapped in his oversized gray gym shirt, like a high-school teen with her boyfriend’s letter jacket.

“What is it, then? Why don’t you tell me, exactly.” I stood, too, determined to meet him on equal ground. I could already feel my heart breaking yet again. The look on his face never led to anything good for us.

“I’ve told you all along that there are parts of my life that I won’t share. I live my life the way that I do for reasons that are my business and no one else’s. It’s how it is, and you can take it or leave it.” The expression on his face told me that he didn’t particularly care which option I chose.

At one point, I had been convinced that I meant something to him, something more than sex, even if he had no idea how to handle a traditional relationship.

But we had gone down this road so many times already in the brief time that we had been in each other’s lives. It began to dawn on me that I was being a fool, and I couldn’t even blame him for stringing me along.

He had told me what he did and didn’t want, had been completely honest the entire time. I had chosen not to listen, to read into things, to build dream castles where nothing at all could stand.

Damn if I would let him see how much he had affected me. I was stronger now than I had ever been, and if nothing else, Zachariah St. Brenton had shown me that I was worthy of a lot of things.

I deserved someone who wanted me the way that I wanted him.

I stood there in his T-shirt as the man I wanted so desperately walked away, shutting himself in the bathroom, shutting me out as he had done so many times before.

Yes, I deserved someone who would give me everything I wanted. The problem there was that all I desired was Zachariah St. Brenton.

Read more of Devon and Zachariah’s tumultuous passion in

Part V of SURRENDER TO TEMPTATION

TEMPTED TO REVEAL

Available from InterMix on January 29, 2013

Keep reading for a preview of Lauren Jameson’s

sizzling upcoming erotic romance

BLUSH

Available from NAL in May 2013

“You don’t understand.” I don’t know why I feel the need to explain—I will never see this man again. But his solid belief that I can do this unhinges a flood of emotion, and I want to make him see.

“Then tell me.” He seems as if he truly wants to know.

I open my mouth, then close it again. How can I begin to explain why this is so important to me, why I can’t just walk up to a blackjack table like any other normal person under this roof?

How can I explain about the emptiness in my heart, in my arms, the emptiness that has turned my blood to acid and my thoughts to poison? Doing things that push me out of my comfort zone are teeny, tiny steps that will give me back some measure of control over my life.

I drop my head, unable to look him in the eye, and shake my head.

When I look up again, both of our wineglasses are again full. Refusal is on my lips before mine is even offered to me, refusal coated with relief that he will not push.

It is an odd thing, to find someone who cares. Well, Dr. Vapauta cares, but I pay her to.

“Oh, no. You’ve given me enough of a treat.” Not to mention my fear that a second drink will lead to a third, then a fourth and then into oblivion, where I will be torn into shreds by the pain that overtakes me.

Though Alex looks disappointed at my refusal, he nods, then gracefully slides off of his stool. He is tall, well over six feet, and for the first time in my life I feel small as I stand beside him.

I am a woman of average height and build, but have always felt as if I take up more space than I ought to.

“Well, thank you.” What else is there to say? This has been a strange encounter all around. I’ve been approached by a man, something that never happens, and by one of the most beautiful, charismatic men I’ve ever laid eyes on, to boot. I’ve drunk wine older than my parents, and I’ve told him something that not another person on this planet—besides Dr. Vapauta—knows.

I shift my weight from foot to foot, feeling awkward as the beautiful man nods in acknowledgement of my thanks but says nothing.

“Um, it was nice meeting you.” Before I can say something stupid, sticking my foot so far into my mouth that it hits my gag reflex, I book it across the marble-tiled floor of the bar.

The entrance to the casino itself lies on the other side. Inhaling deeply, I try to will my feet to move me into the room.

“Would you accept a piece of advice?” There is that voice again, low and sultry, whispering against my ear. I jolt again, and this time I am irritated at being startled, though I have to say that I like the feeling of being irritated at someone besides myself. I whirl and find Alex standing right there, right in my personal space.

I note how delicious he smells—expensive cologne, musky soap, and something else primal and male—but it does nothing to dispel my irritation.

“Will you stop sneaking up on me, please?” A look of shock crosses over his face. I wonder if he’s not used to being snapped at.

He continues to examine my face, and I feel my drive to enter the gaming floor of the casino dissolving.

“Well?” I tap my foot, my high-heeled sandal clicking on the tile. Alex looks down at my feet, then slowly back up to my face, his stare caressing my body on its way back up.

“Well?” He echoes, and I notice that his right hand fists and unclenches several times in rapid succession.

“Your advice. What is it?”

He raises an eyebrow, at my tone, I think, before speaking.

“Have another drink. Just one.” His words are cautionary. I look over his shoulder, at the half-full bottle of wine and the two glasses, where they still sit on the bar.

I’ve indulged in one drink tonight . . . I’m not likely to have another. But I’m curious nonetheless.

This seems like odd advice for someone to receive before a card game.

“Why?” I intend for the word to be blunt, but he’s still looking at me in that way, and it’s making the nerves in my skin skitter around like someone is tickling me. Alex leans in close and I bask in that heat again, though he still doesn’t actually touch me.

When his lips are a mere whisper from my ear he pauses, and my heart stops, then begins to beat again, double time. I very nearly arch my neck toward him, wishing for his lips to brush my ear, for his teeth to nip at it.

This is an odd desire for me, me who so very rarely has any desire at all.

“One drink has brought some color to yours cheeks. Two will make you flush. This will keep the other players from knowing when you have a good hand . . . because your blush is very telling.” And after dropping that bomb on me he walks away, leaving me gaping after him.

I also drink in the sight of his spectacular ass, but that is neither here nor there.

***

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