Fall Into You (37 page)

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Authors: Roni Loren

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #cookie429, #Kat, #Extratorrents

BOOK: Fall Into You
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Even knowing it was coming couldn’t prepare her for the blow. The belt landed across
her ass, sending a rocket of stinging pleasure curling up her spine and down her legs.
She cried out, her hands yanking at the ropes and inadvertently spreading her thighs
wider.

Another swat came and grazed her exposed sex, jolting her and almost sending her into
instant orgasm. Her back bowed, her head shaking back and forth like a restless horse
trying to break loose. “Oh, God.”

He hit her again and again, but she lost count of the lashes when the hot pain softened
and blurred into the intoxicating rush of pure adrenaline and pleasure. Her pussy
throbbed and her skin felt tight all over her, like she had too much sensation to
hold in one body. She wanted to beg, to scream, to cry…to love him.

“I can’t wait any longer for you, baby. You’re driving me fucking crazy.” The buckle
hit the floor with a clang and the sound of a zipper filled in the space between her
breaths. Then he was there behind her, his palms and mouth gentle and nurturing where
he’d been brutal seconds before. “I need to be inside you.”

Her verbal abilities had slipped into the part of her brain she didn’t have access
to at the moment, but nothing in the world sounded better than that. She tilted her
hips upward, a silent appeal.

Cool liquid touched her backside, Grant’s fingers massaging and spreading lube he’d
apparently brought with him. “Just relax for me, princess. Let me in.”

She didn’t think she was capable of fighting the invasion even if she’d wanted to.
His finger pushed inside her, one then another, and a moan spilled out of her. He
worked her backside with one hand and moved the other to her clit. She squeezed her
eyes shut, the pleasure almost too overwhelming to process. Methodically and with
tortuous patience, he coaxed her body to cooperate, to open to him. As soon as she
thought she’d explode with orgasm, he’d back off her clit and ease her down. If she
could’ve formed the words, she would’ve begged—shamelessly and profusely.

But soon he’d hit his own limit and he shifted into position behind her, untying her
hands so she could brace herself and then spreading her even wider. His cock pressed
against her, the blunt head feeling impossibly huge in comparison to the fingers he’d
been using. “Relax and push against me, baby. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She breathed through one final whip of anxiety, then did as he said, mentally and
physically accepting him. He moved through the last bit of resistance, and then he
was gliding inside her, stretching her, setting off a circuit board of nerve endings
that had her nails burying into the carpet and her body quivering with edgy need.

“Oh, Jesus, Charli,” Grant said, his voice full of grit. “I want to take my time with
you, but damn, you feel good.”

She swallowed past her parched throat, her own words barely a whisper. “Please don’t
make me wait too long.”

“Ah, hell,” he said, draping himself over her back and hooking his arm around her
hip. “That’s a request I can definitely grant.”

His fingers found her clit and stroked as his pelvis tapped her
backside, his cock buried fully inside her. She reared up, and a strangled moan that
she didn’t even recognize as her own filled her ears. Grant sped up, his thrusts matching
the urgency pulsing inside her. Her head sagged between her shoulders and she went
down to her elbows, all her strength going toward holding back the dam of sensation
threatening to overtake her.

“Please, please, please,” she said, a mumbled string of unintelligible, desperate
words pouring out of her.

He pinched her clit and switched from nice and easy to commanding—his dominance fully
unleashed. “Come for me, Charlotte.”

He fucked into her with long, spine-arching thrusts, rocking her against the floor
and pushing her to a place she’d never visited before. Wretched sounds scraped past
her throat as the need wound inside her, tighter and tighter, until she thought she’d
die of sensory overload.

Then Grant moaned her name, and the erotic sound of his own loss of control pushed
her over the cliff and sent her plummeting into orgasm. Tears pricked her eyes, and
she screamed through the overwhelming surge of pleasure, the waves crashing against
her over and over until she felt him empty inside her.

After a few panted moments and murmured words, he slipped out of her.

She melted into the floor, not sure she ever wanted to get up again. He kissed her
shoulder, her hair, the top of her spine. “That was so, so perfect, Charlotte. I’ve
never…” But he seemed to be struggling with intelligent speech as well. “Thank you,
just thank you. You’re amazing.”

All she could do was sigh in response.

He laughed softly, his obvious affection rolling over her and wrapping around her.
He laid his shirt over her quickly chilling skin. “Stay here, darlin’. There’s a hot
bath with your name on it. I’ll be right back.”

Charli lay there snuggled against Grant’s chest, listening to the steady thrum of
his heartbeat and enjoying the scent of her soap on him. Even after all that had transpired
in her house tonight, it felt so normal, so right, lying there in her bed with him.
Maybe she didn’t crave candles and soft music, but this—this she ached for. She hadn’t
really had a chance to be like this with him yet, to simply cuddle and enjoy his presence.

For a moment, she let herself imagine that this was real, that he would sleep there
beside her all night, that they were in a real relationship. But even with her system
utterly exhausted, her logical brain wouldn’t let her go there.
He’ll never be yours.

He traced his fingers along her spine with a languid motion. “What’s on your mind,
freckles? Your muscles have gone tense.”

She frowned, staring at their intermingled shadows on the far wall. “It was nothing.”

“No. Tell me.”

She sighed. Did he always have to be so damn observant? She’d promised herself she
wouldn’t let herself fall deeper tonight. But her best intentions had been left somewhere
between her bedroom and laundry room. Beyond the electric physical connection they’d
shared tonight, when he’d put her in the bathtub afterward, his expression soft, his
words tender, she’d plummeted into the abyss. He’d probably chalk it up to bottoming
out after their intense scene, but she knew better. She needed to tell him the truth.
Put it out there.

She closed her eyes, drumming up the nerve. There was only one thing she could say.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“What?” The rise and fall of his breathing paused beneath her cheek. “Why?”

She pushed herself up on her elbow. It was hard to look at him, but she wasn’t a coward.
If she was going to be honest, she’d do it
to his face, would jump off the cliff and suffer the consequences. She took one long,
deep breath, then said what she’d been thinking for far too long. “Because I’m starting
to wish this was real.”

He winced.

Actually
fucking
winced.

The reaction, though not shocking, was like a rusty knife twisting into her chest.
She managed a derisive smirk. “Exactly my point.”

“Charli.” He sat up on his elbows.

She rolled fully away from him, wrapping the sheet around her breasts. “Don’t even
bother, Grant. I don’t need the speech. This is not your fault. It’s mine. You never
pretended this was anything different than what it is.”

“That’s not—”

“I’m falling in love with you and you can’t even kiss me,” she said, cutting him off.
“How stupid am I? I knew better and did it anyway.”

He reached out for her, turning her back toward him. “Charli.”

She shrugged away from his touch, feeling as if her emotions were being held together
with duct tape. One wrong move and she’d bust wide open. “Please don’t. Don’t coddle
me. And don’t pretend you weren’t just going to lie here until I fell asleep so you
can go sleep on the couch.”

His gaze shifted sideways, confirming her suspicion.

“Look, I get it, okay? You’re used to separating your emotions from this kind of arrangement.
I’m just another woman who enjoys what you do in bed.” She pulled in a deep breath,
refusing to let any tears fall, refusing to crack in front of him. “But I don’t have
that kind of practice. Every time we’re together, it breaks down another piece of
me, strips away another row of fencing. And after tonight, the defenses are downright
decimated. Nothing is left standing. Hell, I’ve even found myself entertaining thoughts
of what it’d be like to be a real submissive to you. To not just play the game.”

He lifted his eyes, his surprise evident. “You’re not just another
woman. And I would take you on as my submissive in a second, Charli. But you deserve
more than what I’m capable of giving. You wouldn’t be happy.”

She shook her head, sadness filtering through her like oil spilling into the ocean,
blackening everything, tainting it. “You know what? You’re right, cowboy. I’ve spent
my whole life being everyone’s second best. I certainly don’t intend to play that
role in my love life as well.”

“You wouldn’t be…” But he clearly couldn’t finish the sentence. He scrubbed a hand
over his face.

“Go sleep on the couch, Grant,” she said, resignation weighing down her words. “That’s
where you were going to end up tonight anyway.”

She turned over in bed, putting her back to him and hiding the anguish that smothered
her. Her bedroom door clicked shut a few seconds later, leaving her alone—a state
she’d always been comfortable with.

Until now.

Somehow she had a feeing nothing would ever feel comfortable again.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Grant sipped his coffee, keeping his eyes on a booth on the other side of the Southern
Pancake Hut. The place was hopping with customers, and the rattle of dishes and clinking
forks was enough to block out any hope that he’d be able to hear Charli’s conversation
with her source. Not that he really needed to hear anything. He could see her face
in profile from his perch and would be able to read her expression. If anything went
wrong, she’d be able to alert him.

He set down his coffee mug, the smell of it mixing with the bacon and eggs he’d ordered.
He shoved aside his untouched plate, the thought of food making his stomach revolt.
Between the sick feeling his conversation with Charli had incited last night and the
fact that he’d been unable to sleep, he felt as scrambled as the eggs on his plate.

She’d been like a stranger this morning. Her words had been polite, to the point,
and all about the plan today. He was officially looking at her from outside the castle
walls now. His visitor’s pass
had been revoked—and rightly so. She’d called herself his second best last night,
and he hadn’t even stood up and denied it.

He fingered the platinum wedding band he always wore on his right hand, the smooth
metal suddenly feeling more like a shackle than a comfort. Why couldn’t he just push
past the fear and kiss her? Tell her that he had feelings for her, too?

He’d gotten off the couch a few times last night intending to do just that. But then
reality would wallop him in the face. He could do that, but then what? Charli was
fiercely independent and a daredevil to boot. The first time she announced that she
was going skydiving or something, he’d want to lock her in his cabin until he could
convince her otherwise. And besides her risk taking, she could easily decide one day
to simply walk away. The thought of loving and losing someone again…

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