Caught Up in You
Page 37
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Author: Roni Loren
But he’d learned the hard way that words scared her. Earlier, she’d agreed to another few weeks with him, and he’d wanted to tell her he didn’t want a time limit on it, but he’d bit his tongue. His few slipups before now had sent her scampering. Words wouldn’t do it. Action. That’s what she couldn’t help responding to. Lucky for her, action was exactly what he had in mind this afternoon.
He pushed the covers aside and climbed out of bed. After a quick trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he pulled on a pair of shorts and went to search for Kelsey. Her key was still sitting on the dresser so he doubted she’d left the cabana. He headed toward the living room, expecting to find her napping on the couch, but the room was empty.
However, when he glanced toward the glass doors that led to their private deck and the view of the beach, he saw a flash of painted toenails peeking off the edge of one of the loungers. Smiling, he made his way across the living room and slid open the door. But what greeted him on the other side of the glass damn near knocked him back inside. Kelsey had her face tilted toward the sky, a pair of big sunglasses and a hat shielding her, and a paperback had been set on a side table. But the hat and sunglasses were all she wore. Laid out in the dappled sunlight that peeked through the surrounding palms, her breathing in the even tempo of sleep, Kelsey was blessedly naked, adorned only by tan lines.
Christ. A rattle of hard, pounding need went through him.
Her skin gleamed golden in the late-afternoon rays, her nipples were hard from the kiss of the breeze coming off the water, and her legs were parted just enough to let him see her pretty pink folds and the lavender base of the anal plug peeking out. He went hard as steel in the space between seconds.
His woman was naughty. So gut-wrenchingly sexy that he didn’t even have words for it. She made him feel like he’d spent his life on some colorless planet, only existing in black and white until she’d stepped into his orbit. And now everything was in color—bright and full and passionate. Unpredictable. Real.
After drinking in the spectacular view for another long moment, he went back inside to grab a few things. When he came back out, she was still sleeping. He set the items he’d grabbed on the table with her book.
Nap time’s officially over, Ms. LeBreck.
* * *
Something tickled Kelsey’s hand, drawing her slowly into awareness. Awareness that she was deliciously warm, that she wasn’t dreaming anymore, and finally that she couldn’t roll over. Her eyelids fluttered open, the sunlight dazzling her for a second before the tall backlit shadow in front of her came into focus. Wyatt.
“You left me in bed alone again, love,” he said, his voice as balmy as the sunshine beaming down on them.
She tried to shift but her arms had been tied above her and secured to the lounge chair. “I couldn’t sleep.” Because I was freaking out. And I could have feelings for you and I needed to get the focus back on the safe side of the playground—on sex. “So I thought I’d surprise you with your suggestion from this morning.”
“Hmm,” he said, his gaze sliding along every bare part of her. “I approve. Though I wish I’d been here for the sunblock application.”
She smiled under his blatantly carnal perusal, feeling back on solid ground. No tenderness or sweetness there, just pure filthy lust. That look she could handle. “I’m probably due for a reapplication.”
“One step ahead of you, love.” He moved forward and grabbed her under her knees, spreading her until each foot planted on the deck beneath. Then he sat on the end of the lounger and reached for something on the table next to her. “I’m a little surprised you chose to put temptation for me out here, though.”
She looked toward the beach beyond the railing. The part of the shore their room faced was too rocky to walk on, and the sides of their deck were shrouded in trees with no other cabanas near. “How come? It’s private enough.”
He smiled as he drew a palm up along her belly and cradled her breast in his hand. “Yes, visually private.”
He leaned forward and sucked her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and teasing it to a tight, pulsing point. She dragged her bottom lip between her teeth, watching his dark head bob against her, his tanned fingers pressing into her paler flesh. He always made her feel so . . . handled. Like she could give herself over completely and know that he’d give her exactly what she needed even if she didn’t know exactly what that was. He sucked hard for a moment, the luscious snap of pain drawing a whimper from her. Then moved to offer the same treatment to the other side.
After taking his time with that one as well, he released her with a wet pop and met her gaze. Silver glinted in his opposite hand. “But the things I want to do you, love. They’re going to make you want to be loud. And sound can carry out here.”
“Shit,” she whispered, finally realizing the predicament she’d gotten herself in.
He grinned and opened the tiny clamp he’d been holding and positioned it on her nipple. The harsh pinch of it made her hiss, and she tilted her head back as the sensation zipped through her body. This one was different than the one he’d used on her in the kitchen. This one had vicious little metal teeth. Before she could breathe through the pain of it, he clamped the other one as well, and let go of a chain linking the two together. The chain added weight to the clamps and her fists balled in the bindings.
She knew how these kind worked, in theory at least. She used them on her subs often. But son of a bitch that hur—oh. Before she could even complete her thought the pain went through that beautiful section of her brain that converted it to sweet, burning warmth. Every part of her body seemed to heat, and the plug that she’d only been marginally aware of for the last few minutes began to throb inside her, making her sex ache for the same feeling of fullness. She sighed into the rush of it all.
“There you go, gorgeous. Let your body do the magic.” He grabbed a bottle and squeezed liquid into his palm. “And I think we have enough shade, so you’re not going to burn. But you still owe me the chance to give you a rub down. I’d hate for this pretty skin to dry out with all this sun and sand.”
He grabbed one of her ankles and lifted her leg, parking her foot against the hard wall of his chest, then started working warm oil into her calf. The position spread her wide, tightened the plug, and left her completely and utterly exposed to him. The breeze swirled over her already damp folds with a warm caress, drawing her scent into the charged air between them. Wyatt sent her a smile that said You’re all mine now, and her belly flipped at the thought. His. For the whole month.
He massaged the oil along her leg, moving down to her inner thigh and working in slow, methodical circles, getting closer and closer to the part of her that ached so badly, but never touching it. An embarrassing amount of wetness gathered between her legs, and when his knuckles grazed that spot between her thigh and her sex, she let out a pitiful whimper.
His hooded gaze slid from her parted mouth downward to the spot that most throbbed, the blue of his irises going almost black. Hungry. She bit her lip, a full body blush rushing over her. Being naked in front of him wasn’t new, but she’d never felt so physically open and vulnerable to where he could see exactly how desperate she was for him, how uncontrollable her need was.
His palm tracked down along the back of her thigh and slid the oil along the bottom curve of her ass, jostling the plug inside her and making her hips lift toward him. “Why are you turning red, love?”
The question was low and easy, the sensual syllables of that deep voice rolling over her as she tried to keep herself from moaning. “I—I feel so exposed.”
He traced a gentle fingertip along her already slick labia, a butterfly wing of a touch. “And you look beautiful, love. So pink and swollen and slippery for me.” He jiggled the base of the plug, sending a ripple of sweet sensation through her. “You’ve even gotten the plug all slick from your juices. I could come from looking at you.”
“Please don’t do that,” she whispered. She would die right here on this chair if he didn’t get inside her soon.
He caressed the inside of her other thigh, tender, reverent. “Don’t worry, love. I plan to fill every empty space inside of you. If you let me.”
Her eyes lifted at that, colliding with a gaze that suddenly held more than lust in it. It held promise, hope. It held . . . She squeezed her eyes shut. No. He’s just talking about fucking. That’s all this is. “Please, Wyatt.”
She didn’t know what she was pleading for exactly—for him to stop saying things like that, for him to touch her where she most needed, for him to take away the fear that was creeping in.
He tugged on the chain between her breasts, sending a sharp bolt of awareness through her and knocking her worried thoughts right out of her head. “Stop thinking, Kelsey. Feel. That’s all you need to do right now. You understand?”
“Yes, sir.” She nodded quickly, thankful for the shift, for him yanking her back from the scary stuff.
He climbed off the lounger, wiping the oil from his hands on a towel, then tugged off the khaki shorts he’d been wearing. His cock was heavy and thick, jutting out proudly from between those muscular thighs. Wyatt took himself in his hand as he kept his eyes on her, stroking the bead of moisture at the tip and spreading it over the head. His mouth curved upward. “Keep sucking your bottom lip into your mouth like that, and I’ll be forced to shove something in there.”
She pressed her lips together, unaware that she’d been doing such a thing. But her mouth was watering at the thought of tasting him again, of having her lips stretched wide around that glorious cock of his. “That wouldn’t exactly be a punishment, sir.”
“You like sucking cock, love?” he asked, his voice going gritty with his own banked desire.
“I like sucking yours.”
His smirk was pure sex. “Good answer. But I’ve got other plans for you right now.”
He moved around the edge of the chair to the table and grabbed what looked to be one of the hotel hand towels. He rolled it lengthwise and then brought it to her mouth. She lifted her brows.
“Bite down, love. It will help you keep quiet.”
She licked her lips, eyeing the towel with trepidation. “I can keep quiet.”
He bent down and kissed her on the nose. “Not if I have anything to do with it. Will you trust me on this or are you saying it’s a limit for you?”
The question held no accusatory tone, it was an honest one. If she didn’t want to, he would never make her. When she’d been kidnapped, Davis had shoved his sock in her mouth and she’d almost choked on her own vomit. The memory was an ugly one—one that flared up on occasion when she’d gag on something. And she hated that it was there.
She would not let it ruin this moment. And maybe, just maybe, doing this with Wyatt could replace the ugly memory with a sexy one. She nodded. “I trust you.”
The pleasure that broke over his expression at her trust was reward enough. He held the towel in front of her mouth and she bit down on it. “Good girl. Can you breathe?”
She nodded.
“Practice spitting it out.”
She opened her mouth, shoved the terrycloth out with her tongue.
He grabbed it, re-rolled it, and put it back in, then let his hand drift down to one of her clamps, circling the sensitive area around it. She rocked into the touch with a muffled moan. “There you go. You can get rid of the gag if you need to. But this way, when I fuck those screams out of you—because, believe me, that’s what I intend to do—you won’t alert the whole island.”
He bent down and followed the path his finger had traced with the tip of his tongue, nearly making her eyes roll back in her head. Then he was on the move again, leaving her bereft without his heat, his touch.
But he’d learned the hard way that words scared her. Earlier, she’d agreed to another few weeks with him, and he’d wanted to tell her he didn’t want a time limit on it, but he’d bit his tongue. His few slipups before now had sent her scampering. Words wouldn’t do it. Action. That’s what she couldn’t help responding to. Lucky for her, action was exactly what he had in mind this afternoon.
He pushed the covers aside and climbed out of bed. After a quick trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he pulled on a pair of shorts and went to search for Kelsey. Her key was still sitting on the dresser so he doubted she’d left the cabana. He headed toward the living room, expecting to find her napping on the couch, but the room was empty.
However, when he glanced toward the glass doors that led to their private deck and the view of the beach, he saw a flash of painted toenails peeking off the edge of one of the loungers. Smiling, he made his way across the living room and slid open the door. But what greeted him on the other side of the glass damn near knocked him back inside. Kelsey had her face tilted toward the sky, a pair of big sunglasses and a hat shielding her, and a paperback had been set on a side table. But the hat and sunglasses were all she wore. Laid out in the dappled sunlight that peeked through the surrounding palms, her breathing in the even tempo of sleep, Kelsey was blessedly naked, adorned only by tan lines.
Christ. A rattle of hard, pounding need went through him.
Her skin gleamed golden in the late-afternoon rays, her nipples were hard from the kiss of the breeze coming off the water, and her legs were parted just enough to let him see her pretty pink folds and the lavender base of the anal plug peeking out. He went hard as steel in the space between seconds.
His woman was naughty. So gut-wrenchingly sexy that he didn’t even have words for it. She made him feel like he’d spent his life on some colorless planet, only existing in black and white until she’d stepped into his orbit. And now everything was in color—bright and full and passionate. Unpredictable. Real.
After drinking in the spectacular view for another long moment, he went back inside to grab a few things. When he came back out, she was still sleeping. He set the items he’d grabbed on the table with her book.
Nap time’s officially over, Ms. LeBreck.
* * *
Something tickled Kelsey’s hand, drawing her slowly into awareness. Awareness that she was deliciously warm, that she wasn’t dreaming anymore, and finally that she couldn’t roll over. Her eyelids fluttered open, the sunlight dazzling her for a second before the tall backlit shadow in front of her came into focus. Wyatt.
“You left me in bed alone again, love,” he said, his voice as balmy as the sunshine beaming down on them.
She tried to shift but her arms had been tied above her and secured to the lounge chair. “I couldn’t sleep.” Because I was freaking out. And I could have feelings for you and I needed to get the focus back on the safe side of the playground—on sex. “So I thought I’d surprise you with your suggestion from this morning.”
“Hmm,” he said, his gaze sliding along every bare part of her. “I approve. Though I wish I’d been here for the sunblock application.”
She smiled under his blatantly carnal perusal, feeling back on solid ground. No tenderness or sweetness there, just pure filthy lust. That look she could handle. “I’m probably due for a reapplication.”
“One step ahead of you, love.” He moved forward and grabbed her under her knees, spreading her until each foot planted on the deck beneath. Then he sat on the end of the lounger and reached for something on the table next to her. “I’m a little surprised you chose to put temptation for me out here, though.”
She looked toward the beach beyond the railing. The part of the shore their room faced was too rocky to walk on, and the sides of their deck were shrouded in trees with no other cabanas near. “How come? It’s private enough.”
He smiled as he drew a palm up along her belly and cradled her breast in his hand. “Yes, visually private.”
He leaned forward and sucked her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and teasing it to a tight, pulsing point. She dragged her bottom lip between her teeth, watching his dark head bob against her, his tanned fingers pressing into her paler flesh. He always made her feel so . . . handled. Like she could give herself over completely and know that he’d give her exactly what she needed even if she didn’t know exactly what that was. He sucked hard for a moment, the luscious snap of pain drawing a whimper from her. Then moved to offer the same treatment to the other side.
After taking his time with that one as well, he released her with a wet pop and met her gaze. Silver glinted in his opposite hand. “But the things I want to do you, love. They’re going to make you want to be loud. And sound can carry out here.”
“Shit,” she whispered, finally realizing the predicament she’d gotten herself in.
He grinned and opened the tiny clamp he’d been holding and positioned it on her nipple. The harsh pinch of it made her hiss, and she tilted her head back as the sensation zipped through her body. This one was different than the one he’d used on her in the kitchen. This one had vicious little metal teeth. Before she could breathe through the pain of it, he clamped the other one as well, and let go of a chain linking the two together. The chain added weight to the clamps and her fists balled in the bindings.
She knew how these kind worked, in theory at least. She used them on her subs often. But son of a bitch that hur—oh. Before she could even complete her thought the pain went through that beautiful section of her brain that converted it to sweet, burning warmth. Every part of her body seemed to heat, and the plug that she’d only been marginally aware of for the last few minutes began to throb inside her, making her sex ache for the same feeling of fullness. She sighed into the rush of it all.
“There you go, gorgeous. Let your body do the magic.” He grabbed a bottle and squeezed liquid into his palm. “And I think we have enough shade, so you’re not going to burn. But you still owe me the chance to give you a rub down. I’d hate for this pretty skin to dry out with all this sun and sand.”
He grabbed one of her ankles and lifted her leg, parking her foot against the hard wall of his chest, then started working warm oil into her calf. The position spread her wide, tightened the plug, and left her completely and utterly exposed to him. The breeze swirled over her already damp folds with a warm caress, drawing her scent into the charged air between them. Wyatt sent her a smile that said You’re all mine now, and her belly flipped at the thought. His. For the whole month.
He massaged the oil along her leg, moving down to her inner thigh and working in slow, methodical circles, getting closer and closer to the part of her that ached so badly, but never touching it. An embarrassing amount of wetness gathered between her legs, and when his knuckles grazed that spot between her thigh and her sex, she let out a pitiful whimper.
His hooded gaze slid from her parted mouth downward to the spot that most throbbed, the blue of his irises going almost black. Hungry. She bit her lip, a full body blush rushing over her. Being naked in front of him wasn’t new, but she’d never felt so physically open and vulnerable to where he could see exactly how desperate she was for him, how uncontrollable her need was.
His palm tracked down along the back of her thigh and slid the oil along the bottom curve of her ass, jostling the plug inside her and making her hips lift toward him. “Why are you turning red, love?”
The question was low and easy, the sensual syllables of that deep voice rolling over her as she tried to keep herself from moaning. “I—I feel so exposed.”
He traced a gentle fingertip along her already slick labia, a butterfly wing of a touch. “And you look beautiful, love. So pink and swollen and slippery for me.” He jiggled the base of the plug, sending a ripple of sweet sensation through her. “You’ve even gotten the plug all slick from your juices. I could come from looking at you.”
“Please don’t do that,” she whispered. She would die right here on this chair if he didn’t get inside her soon.
He caressed the inside of her other thigh, tender, reverent. “Don’t worry, love. I plan to fill every empty space inside of you. If you let me.”
Her eyes lifted at that, colliding with a gaze that suddenly held more than lust in it. It held promise, hope. It held . . . She squeezed her eyes shut. No. He’s just talking about fucking. That’s all this is. “Please, Wyatt.”
She didn’t know what she was pleading for exactly—for him to stop saying things like that, for him to touch her where she most needed, for him to take away the fear that was creeping in.
He tugged on the chain between her breasts, sending a sharp bolt of awareness through her and knocking her worried thoughts right out of her head. “Stop thinking, Kelsey. Feel. That’s all you need to do right now. You understand?”
“Yes, sir.” She nodded quickly, thankful for the shift, for him yanking her back from the scary stuff.
He climbed off the lounger, wiping the oil from his hands on a towel, then tugged off the khaki shorts he’d been wearing. His cock was heavy and thick, jutting out proudly from between those muscular thighs. Wyatt took himself in his hand as he kept his eyes on her, stroking the bead of moisture at the tip and spreading it over the head. His mouth curved upward. “Keep sucking your bottom lip into your mouth like that, and I’ll be forced to shove something in there.”
She pressed her lips together, unaware that she’d been doing such a thing. But her mouth was watering at the thought of tasting him again, of having her lips stretched wide around that glorious cock of his. “That wouldn’t exactly be a punishment, sir.”
“You like sucking cock, love?” he asked, his voice going gritty with his own banked desire.
“I like sucking yours.”
His smirk was pure sex. “Good answer. But I’ve got other plans for you right now.”
He moved around the edge of the chair to the table and grabbed what looked to be one of the hotel hand towels. He rolled it lengthwise and then brought it to her mouth. She lifted her brows.
“Bite down, love. It will help you keep quiet.”
She licked her lips, eyeing the towel with trepidation. “I can keep quiet.”
He bent down and kissed her on the nose. “Not if I have anything to do with it. Will you trust me on this or are you saying it’s a limit for you?”
The question held no accusatory tone, it was an honest one. If she didn’t want to, he would never make her. When she’d been kidnapped, Davis had shoved his sock in her mouth and she’d almost choked on her own vomit. The memory was an ugly one—one that flared up on occasion when she’d gag on something. And she hated that it was there.
She would not let it ruin this moment. And maybe, just maybe, doing this with Wyatt could replace the ugly memory with a sexy one. She nodded. “I trust you.”
The pleasure that broke over his expression at her trust was reward enough. He held the towel in front of her mouth and she bit down on it. “Good girl. Can you breathe?”
She nodded.
“Practice spitting it out.”
She opened her mouth, shoved the terrycloth out with her tongue.
He grabbed it, re-rolled it, and put it back in, then let his hand drift down to one of her clamps, circling the sensitive area around it. She rocked into the touch with a muffled moan. “There you go. You can get rid of the gag if you need to. But this way, when I fuck those screams out of you—because, believe me, that’s what I intend to do—you won’t alert the whole island.”
He bent down and followed the path his finger had traced with the tip of his tongue, nearly making her eyes roll back in her head. Then he was on the move again, leaving her bereft without his heat, his touch.