Fall Into You (25 page)

The smooth leather touched her folds. “Come for me, Charlotte.”

Grant tapped the crop against her sex with a quick, smarting snap, and all semblance
of her control fragmented into a million flecks of sensation. She screamed, her voice
echoing through the cavernous space, as her orgasm flooded every nerve ending.

Grant continued to tap her with the crop, though with a softer hand, as her release
rolled through her. Then, when she thought every ounce of energy had been wrung from
her, he pulled off the nipple clamps, sending fiery pain spiraling in with the bliss.
Another orgasm chased the first, short and intense. And she could do nothing but let
it have her. The blinding sensations had stolen any control she had left over her
own response. She was merely a blissed-out passenger on Grant’s train.

“That’s it, my girl,” Grant soothed. “Let it take you down.”

When her body finally quieted and the vibrator had been turned off, she melted against
the bindings, the rope the only thing keeping her upright. Cool fingers touched the
abraded skin at her wrists, and the tension gave way. Grant lowered her arms to her
sides, rubbing the numbness from them, and then slowly eased the vibrator out of her.
When he stepped back, she managed to raise her head and found him staring at her with
the look of a man starved.

The sight stole her breath. Even though she knew she had to be a sight with streaked
makeup and sweaty skin, she felt…beautiful.

He leaned forward and swiped moisture from her cheeks with his thumbs. “Are those
good tears or bad ones, freckles?”

Confused, she reached up, touched her face. Had she been crying?

“I should give you a break,” he said gruffly and moved to take a step back.

But with speed she wouldn’t have thought herself capable of at the moment, she grabbed
his forearm, halting him. “Please. Don’t. I need…” His pulse beat hard and steady
beneath her fingertips as she formed her thoughts.

Yes, part of her felt spent, like she’d been sliced right open and emptied, but something
deep and indefinable yearned for more. Yearned for Grant. Inside her. On her. Invading
her every cell. She wanted him to overtake her. To lose herself in him.

“I need you,” she whispered.

His expression darkened, a sinister and wholly carnal desire flashing through his
blue eyes. He pulled his arm from her grip. “Undress me.”

Her blood surged at the words alone. She was going to be able to touch him, to see
him. She scooted to the edge of the bed and stood on still shaky legs. “I’d love to.”

She went to work on the buttons of his shirt, taking her time and enjoying the heat
of his skin beneath her fingers. Without taking his eyes off her, he shrugged it off
his shoulders, revealing a broad chest dusted with dark hair—sexy and masculine with
a few scars from battles he’d probably never tell her about. She touched one smooth
slash high on his shoulder, and he put his hand over hers, silently warning her.

She moved her hand away and went to the waistband of his jeans. Her fingertips traced
over his hard belly, following the faint line of hair disappearing behind his jeans.
She unbuttoned his fly and dragged the zipper down, finding no underwear beneath.
His hard length sprang forth, and she dipped her hands into his open fly, unable to
resist cupping and stroking him.

He grunted, a short, deep sound that told her he was more wound up than his expression
revealed. “I didn’t give you permission to touch.”

Reluctantly, she pulled her hand back and dropped to her knees to pull off his boots.
“I’m sorry, sir.”

He asked her to remove his shoes and his jeans. Then when she stood again, he clamped
a hand around her throat, pressing her collar into her skin in a possessive hold.
“Apology accepted. On your back, sweet Charlotte.”

She let him guide her down, his hand still on her neck as he climbed onto the bed
with her. The sheets were cold against the sensitized skin of her backside, but all
she could focus on was the man looming above her and the intoxicating feeling of being
beneath his hand.

His hair fell across his forehead as he shifted his weight, planting his palms on
each side of her and settling between her open thighs. He rubbed his cock along her
still slick folds, sending sparks through her. “You look good with my collar and marks
on you, freckles. You like wearing them?”

“I do.” And it was the truth. She didn’t want to study that fact at the moment, but
knowing the welts on her back and rope burn on her wrists were his made her feel warm
in all the right places—including squarely in her chest.

Fuck, she was in trouble.

Grant rose to his knees and turned, locking both of Charli’s ankles into leather cuffs
attached to the footboard, then positioned himself over her again. She tugged at the
chains, but he knew there was only enough slack for her to bend her knees. Her body
stiffened beneath him as a glimmer of fresh panic went through her.

“Breathe, darlin’.”

She inhaled a few deep breaths, and as her instinctive response
gave way, lovely surrender came to the surface. Her pupils dilated and her nipples,
red and swollen from the clamps, hardened. God, she was perfect.

He could feel her wet heat pressing against his shaft and his balls tightened with
want. She’d said she needed him. His gut had twisted at the plea. Had sent him entertaining
the idea of extending this two-week training. She was everything he craved in a sub.
Adventurous, feisty, and so fucking responsive it made his head spin. The things he
could do with her, the edges they could find together. He could spend hours finding
ways to draw that sexy whimper from her.

He glanced at the condom he’d placed on the bedside table, then discarded the thought.
The urge to mark her, feel her against him without any barrier, gnawed at him. They’d
both been tested and she’d put in her paperwork she was on birth control. “I don’t
want anything between us tonight, Charlotte. If that’s not okay, tell me now.”

“Screw condoms.”

He smiled and pinned her arms above her, his palm flattening her forearms to the bed
but avoiding her rope-abraded wrists. “You’re so pink and swollen everywhere I could
spend hours just nibbling and licking each part of you.”

He bent down and circled the tip of his tongue over her abused nipple. She rewarded
him with that sexy mewl of hers, and his cock stiffened to the point of no return.
He had to have her. Right. Now. He lifted his head, then buried himself inside her
without finesse. Another minute not inside her was a minute too long.

“Oh.” She arched off the bed. The feel of her clenching around him, skin to skin,
was almost too much pleasure for his body to compute. Her snug heat wrapped around
him like a cashmere glove, drawing him deep. God, he’d forgotten how good that could
feel.

He rocked back, sliding out, then sheathing himself again. The slow pace was insanity
making, but he wanted to savor it, savor her.
He liked feeling her writhe beneath him when he pulled out, as if she couldn’t bear
to not have his cock filling her. She tilted her head back, eyes closed, and soft,
begging words passed her lips.

He groaned and thrust into her again. Fuck, he loved having her beneath him, hearing
her, feeling her. He kept one hand pressed down on her arms and moved his other hand
back to her throat. Her eyelids snapped open, but her gaze was unfocused, enraptured.
She liked him holding her like that. Her need for real surrender was palpable.

He increased his speed and put gentle pressure against her throat. Breath play was
banned at The Ranch because he didn’t want to take on the liability of untrained people
using it on his property, but a firm neck hold could bring someone like Charli to
a new edge. And he wanted to go there with her.

She moaned with every thrust and the chains rattled behind him as she tried to wrap
her legs around him. Pressure built low and urgent in him, and he tilted his hips
to grind his pelvis against her clit. “Go over with me, baby.”

As if he’d flipped a switch, a cry ripped out of her, and her pussy spasmed around
him. “Grant…”

“Fuck.” He released her hands and neck, bracing his forearms on the side of her and
pumping hard as pleasure shot down his spine and his cock swelled. His release exploded
from him in pulses of pure, exquisite ecstasy.

Filling her. Marking her as his.

Mine,
his mind whispered.

Mine.

When both their groans eased to soft panting, he let his head drop and ended up forehead
to forehead with her, enjoying the quiet between them. Quivers continued to drift
through them, gentle vibrations rolling over them as their bodies absorbed the aftershocks
of their shared orgasm. They remained that way for a while,
their heartbeats and breath slowing together, synchronizing…and then she reached up
and touched his cheek.

He lifted his head to find her looking at him with soft eyes. She drew the pad of
her thumb over his stubble. “Grant.”

A simple word, but something cracked open inside him, her tenderness and his whispered
name on her lips too much to bear. He no longer had the strength to stop himself—even
when he knew it was the stupidest and cruelest move he could make.

He lowered his head, and he kissed her.

Kissed her like he meant it.

Because he did.

Grant deepened the kiss as Charli’s fingers threaded through his hair. Her lips were
as soft as he’d imagined, her mouth hot and yielding. He wanted to lose himself in
the kiss, to mold her against him and spend the rest of the night tangled up with
her, idly exploring each other. But as he stroked his tongue along hers, images of
the last woman he’d kissed filled his mind, pushing out the blissful moment of a second
before. Raw emotion scraped at his insides, ugly guilt slashing at him.
No, no, no
. He broke off the kiss, pulling away as the massive barn seemed to close in around
him.

Charli looked up at him with questions in her eyes. He pushed himself up and off of
her, his heart thumping way too hard.

“Let me get you out of these.” He turned abruptly to uncuff her legs, fumbling with
the first one, his hands unsteady, his mind whirling.

Charli sat up on her elbows. “Is everything okay?”

He put his back to her and worked on the second cuff.
Run. Run. Run
. “It’s fine. I’ll get you out of these and then get the shower started so you can
get cleaned up.”

The cuff opened and the bed shifted as she pulled her legs toward
her. He turned to find her hugging her knees to her chest and looking down at her
toes. A little shiver went over her.

Fuck. He was being the world’s worst dom. Her first big scene and instead of providing
her with a cuddle and aftercare, he was in the middle of a goddamned panic attack.
He took a deep breath, trying to get oxygen to his malfunctioning brain, and got up
to grab robes from the drawer in the armoire and to shut off the music.

He donned one of the robes, then sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped the other
one around her. He cupped her cheek, turning her face toward him, and forced his voice
to sound calm. “You did beautifully, Charlotte. Perfect. Thank you for trusting me
to take you that far.”