Her breasts pressed against his chest, he felt every static thump of her heartbeat as he surged forward, every gripping pulse of her pussy as it squeezed his cock, every one of her staccato breaths in his ear. He wanted her arms and legs wrapped around him, wanted to feel her embrace as he pushed ever deeper inside her.
But he’d started this lesson, and he’d see it through, and that meant having her spread-eagled and unable to touch him, unable to reciprocate the strokes of his hand along her dampened skin. She couldn’t move her arms and legs, could only shudder and sigh and moan underneath him as he lifted and pounded his cock against her.
She couldn’t hold him, but her pussy told him everything he needed to know; the rapid thrums of her heart and the moaning pants of her breath against his cheek told him how much she enjoyed this.
It was enough for now.
“Rand,” she moaned, lifting her hips, the only part of her body other than her head that was free to move.
“I like hearing you say my name baby,” he said, gritting his teeth to hold on. He wanted to release inside her, to jettison the come that had been building for far too long. But he wanted her to come first. And she would. “Say it again.”
“Rand.” Her eyes were glittering sapphires surrounded by a sea of dark lashes. His innocent seductress who hadn’t completely crossed the boundaries of surrender was begging him with her body, giving him control, asking without words to make her come.
His fingers dug into the tender globes of her ass, propelling her ever upward as he thrust harder. She whimpered and lifted, meeting every stroke.
“You wanna come, baby?” he asked, pulling back and powering down and forward again, burying his cock deep inside her.
She nodded, tossing her head back, her lips parting on a gasp.
She was his every fantasy come to life, her auburn hair spread out with her head tilted back, her full lips open and inviting as she panted while he fucked her.
“Please,” she whispered.
He’d wager she didn’t even know she’d said the word.
But it was the sweetest surrender.
His balls quivered in anticipation, a rush of heat scorching his insides as the liquid fire from her cunt seared him.
“Come for me, Blair. Come on my cock.”
She stilled, tensed, then let out a cry that reverberated right through him. Her pussy tightened around his dick, milking him right into the throes of a climax that started at his toes and erupted from his balls. He raised up and threw his head back, emptying into her with a shudder and a groan while she bucked against him in wild abandon, still flying with her own orgasm. She was killing him, squeezing the very life and essence right out of him, and he was dying gladly inside her.
Oh, yeah. Watching her come was heaven on earth, the blush spreading across her skin, her nipples tightening, her body growing taut with tension as she released, then the way it relaxed as she came down off the high.
He withdrew, uncuffed and untied her wrists and ankles, then drew her against his chest, allowing his own heart rate and breathing to settle while enjoying the feel of wrapping her in his arms.
He could get used to having her here. But he knew they had only scratched the surface. He might have won this first skirmish with Blair, but it wasn’t over yet.
The war had just begun.
five
lazy afternoons spent in bed napping were simply decadent. Lazy afternoons spent in bed recovering from the most magnificent orgasms of her life were simply unheard of in her world.
Having spent them with Rand was like something out of a wicked fantasy.
He was more than she had ever hoped for, and then some.
More than she had ever feared, too.
Powerful, controlling, he knew every one of her hot buttons and pushed them like a master puppeteer. If he’d failed at just one of them, she would have smiled smugly and walked away knowing that Rand, like every other man she’d been with, just simply didn’t “get” her.
He’d gotten her all right.
Too well.
She’d played right into his hands, coming apart like she had. Where had all her self-control gone? Couldn’t she have held back just a little? Did she have to have an orgasm every time he licked her, touched her, fucked her? One would think she’d been satisfied after the first one and could have lain there like a dead fish or something, just to let him know he wasn’t in as much control as he’d like to think he was.
But oh, no. Her traitorous body had to go and respond with a resounding Yippee! I’m coming again! Every. Single. Time.
She sighed and tried to scoot away. But like a thief caught sneaking out with the goods, escape was impossible. He snaked an arm around her middle and pulled her back against the powerful wall of his chest.
Dammit, he made her feel safe, tucked into his body like this. It was warm and comfortable, and he was solid and strong. She felt protected, desired. Needed.
Whoa. Way too much going on in her head right now. And all the wrong things.
Rand was not the guy. He wasn’t. Not for her, anyway.
“What are you thinking about?”
The deep timbre of his voice sent her nerve endings skyrocketing in a million directions.
“Nothing.”
“Liar. Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
He cupped her breast. Didn’t squeeze, like a lot of men did, just cupped it, his thumb dragging lightly over her nipple.
Her clit took notice, and bells started ringing down south.
Was she wired for Rand? Lord. One lazy little strum of his fingers, and her body took notice.
Well, dammit, she was in charge of her body. Not him. And she was going to ignore his flicking of her nipple.
“I was just thinking I was tired.”
“You had a nap. An hour and a half.”
An hour and a half curled in his arms. Sweet oblivion. “I’m still tired.”
“No, you’re not. But I’m hungry, and I’ll bet you are, too. How about a shower and something to eat?”
She shrugged, but her stomach rumbled, giving her away. He laughed and released her. “Go on and shower. Towels are in the closet next to the sink. I’ll start the grill, then jump in when you’re finished.”
Shower? In some man’s bathroom? Without her makeup and blow dryer? What would she wear afterward? Did he have any idea what she looked like after a shower? She wasn’t prepared for this. She padded into the bathroom and flipped on the light, grimacing at how . . . manly it all looked. Stark white single sink. Clean enough, she supposed. The shower was, too, though where was the loofah? The little purple razor? The body wash? She’d bet he didn’t even have scented shampoo. He probably used something called Grizzly Peaks or Man Froth.
Ick.
She turned on the faucets, then rummaged through the linen closet, grateful to find a usable shampoo and conditioner. Thank God. And he did have nice, big soft towels. She scrubbed her makeup off, washed and rinsed, and stepped out just in time to find him standing outside the shower door stripping out of his jeans.
“Fire’s blazing on the grill. Let me pop in while you’re drying off.”
He skirted beside her and zipped into the shower stall while she finished drying.
This was all so intimate. Something a couple that lived together would do.
And she needed her comb.
“Got a brush?” she hollered.