Living in Shadow (Living In…) (13 page)

“I wanted to suck you,” she whispered, shuddering as he pressed his thigh harder against her. “I wanted to get down on my knees in my office and suck your cock.”

The lines of his face became drawn and tight. He stepped back, one hand gripping her restrained wrists so she didn’t fall. “On your knees then,” he ordered. “And suck it like a good girl.”

Her knees gave out as he lowered her down onto the wooden floor. It hurt but she didn’t care. She was ready for this. She wanted to give him back what he was giving her: pleasure. Confidence, forgotten and long buried, surged inside her.

She knelt, waiting while he undid his jeans, and though she badly wanted to look at him, she didn’t. Keeping her head bent, waiting for his permission.

And yet again, he was paying attention because he said, “You’ll get to look all you want later. For now, open your mouth and suck me.”

So she did, opening her mouth as he freed himself, letting him guide the head of his cock past her lips, taking him in. She shuddered, the salty, musky taste of him hitting the back of her tongue, feeling his fingers tangled deep in her hair. God, he was so hot. And hard.

She began to suck, moving her head, running her tongue along the length of his cock, his fingers a firm, guiding pressure. His hips moved in a gentle rhythm, his voice whispering things she didn’t understand.

She closed her eyes, beginning to lose herself in what she was doing. In his taste. In the sounds he made. In the feel of his cock in her mouth.

And then, abruptly his fingers were tight in her hair, pulling her away. “
Non, ah non…
Jesus, not yet…”

She took a shuddering breath, taut with disappointment. “I’m sorry. Did I…do something wrong?”

“No.” The word was ragged, hoarse, the look on his face tense. “I just have to fuck you right now. So get on that bed and spread your legs for me.”

He was so close. So fucking close. He’d almost left it too late.

Everything about this, about her, made him hard in a way he hadn’t experienced before. Something about the way she allowed herself to be bound. The way she let him pull her hair and put his cock in her mouth. How she knelt at his feet, waiting.

This soft, beautiful, sophisticated, intelligent woman, ready to do whatever he wanted.

His.

He couldn’t believe what a fucking gift he’d been given. He was a killer. And no, she didn’t know that, but still. Slowly and by increments she was giving him her trust and…it touched that numbness in him. The ice. Melted it a little bit more. Made him feel, Christ, so much.

It made him want to give her everything she’d been missing. Made him want to heal that broken part of her. Give her all the pleasure she deserved.

And he would, he fucking would. If it was the last thing he did, he would help her overcome whatever trauma she’d experienced as a submissive. Make it good for her again.

She wasn’t going to be able to get up by herself with her wrists bound, so he bent and gripped her hips, pulling her to her feet. Then he untied her wrists, dropping the T-shirt to the floor, and walked her over to the bed. “Lie down. Hold on to the headboard with your hands and don’t let go until I say.”

He didn’t really know what the fuck he was doing, responding only to his own instinct and guided by her reactions, but he must have been doing okay because she did exactly what he told her. And when he pushed her legs apart and put his hand between them, she was wet. She shivered as he stroked her, sliding a finger inside and feeling the molten heat of her.

She moaned softly, her hips lifting in response.

But he pulled back, teasing her. Tantalizing her. He wanted to take this slow because out in the hallway it hadn’t been. And she deserved slow. She deserved intense.

He straightened, looking down at her, at the picture she made in his bed, the lights of the city shining over her. Pale skin. White sheets. A beam of sunlight on shadowed ground.

“Fuck…you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, caught for a moment by the vision she presented.

She shifted again, twisting, her chest rising and falling fast, her small pink nipples hard. Ready for him.

Luc pulled off his clothes as quickly as he could. Then, naked, he moved onto the bed, easing between her thighs, finally allowing himself the heady luxury of her bare skin against his. She gave another moan, shifting restlessly as she tried to get closer to him.

He leaned down, nuzzling her throat then licking her, tasting the salt of her skin.

“Luc…” His name was a soft sigh.

It was good she was gripping the headboard tightly. Good she couldn’t touch him. He was so close he’d go off like a fucking firework.

Reaching over to the nightstand, he pulled open a drawer and found the stash of condoms he kept there. He took one out and protected himself then leaned forward over her, shifting his weight onto one hand, placing the other on her throat, feeling her pulse against his palm. Alive, warm. Vital.

Everything he wasn’t.

But that was okay. Tonight in helping her reclaim what she’d lost, perhaps she’d help him reclaim a piece of himself too.

He slid one hand beneath her thigh and, lifting it up and around his hip, he pressed his cock against the slick heat of her pussy. But he didn’t push as he looked down into her eyes.

She was panting, shaking beneath him. And he was so hard it hurt. Yet he wanted to hold on to this moment, not let it go just yet. Her gaze was fixed on his, and he felt like this was the center of the universe.

“Luc,” she whispered raggedly. “Please… Oh please… I want you…”

“Watch me.” He began to push into her slowly. “Don’t take your eyes off me.”

And she didn’t, her whole body trembling as he eased into her, slick and tight. She groaned softly, her eyes widening, pleasure flooding her face as he felt her climax almost immediately around his cock. It almost set him off too, but he held on because this was so not over. “Good girl,” he whispered, hauling her leg higher. “You come so beautifully.” He pushed in deep then withdrew, then another thrust, setting up a slow, intense rhythm.

She whimpered as he moved, twisting on the bed. But she didn’t look away, her gaze fixed to his.

“I like that.” He thrust harder, faster, watching her. “I like your obedience, Eleanor. I think I like it even more than the feeling of you coming around my cock.”

She groaned. “S-stop talking. You’re killing me.”

He paused, deep inside her, responding instinctively. “Who’s giving the orders here?” Perhaps she needed a reminder.

“Y-you.”

“And who’s the one in charge?”

She took a shaky breath. “You are.”

“Yeah, I am.” He pulled his hips back then thrust in again, tearing a sob from her. “Don’t push me, Professor. Though, if you want me to punish you, I will.”

Something lit in her gaze before it was quickly smothered. Yet he saw it, oh yes, he saw it. She wanted more. But now wasn’t the time. If she was hiding it, then she wasn’t ready and he wasn’t going to push her too hard yet.

You only have a night.

Luc shook the thought away. He wasn’t going to think about that now. Not when she was here in his bed. Not when he was in the middle of losing his fucking mind.

He thrust harder, the pleasure becoming vicious. Twisting him around, turning him inside out. He could feel her pulse become frantic beneath his palm as he moved, matching the beat of his own heart, the sound thundering in his head.

In the end he was the one who looked away, because he didn’t want her to see him lose it, burying his face against her neck and listening to her scream as she came again. Then he let himself go, the climax shattering the darkness, a burst of bright light in his head.

The silence afterwards seemed deafening and he lay there for long minutes, unable to move or speak, like he’d been broken apart and had to painstakingly rebuild himself.

After a moment, he pulled away, moving wordlessly from her and getting off the bed, heading for the en-suite bathroom. Jesus, if he had to get away from her every time he screwed her, just to get himself back in hand, it was a good thing this was only going to be one night.

When he came back out again, she’d turned over on her side, facing him, her eyes closed, blonde hair spread all out on his pillows.

Yours…

His heart ached suddenly. Only one fucking night…

Ignoring the weird sense of dread that pulled at him, Luc crossed back to the bed. She began to turn over as he positioned himself behind her, but he put a hand on her back, stopping her. “No,” he said. “Stay like that.”

“I take it sleep is out of the question?” Her voice sounded raw.

Luc ran his hands down the exquisite arch of her spine and the soft, rounded curves of her ass. No, there would be no bloody sleeping tonight. Tonight she was his and he’d meant what he said. He wasn’t going to waste one fucking minute of it, not when he still had a few things to learn.

“Sleep?” Gently he gathered the silken strands of her hair in his fist, tugging her head back. Then he leaned forward. “What’s that?”

And bit her shoulder.

Chapter Nine

“You’re early this morning.”

Eleanor glanced up from the report she was writing for the dean. James was standing in the doorway of her office, leaning against the frame.

She gave him a smile. “Yeah. I’ve got a busy day today.”

“I’m doing a coffee run. Want one?”

“Sure.” And then a thought struck her. “Wait. I’ll go get it if you want.”

“Okay. Cappuccino, two sugars.”

Eleanor reached into her bag for her purse then got out of her chair, coming around the desk to the doorway. And realized he was watching her, frowning. She stopped and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I don’t know. You look…good. Happy. Something nice happen over the weekend?” His gaze dropped to the side of her neck and she knew what he was looking at. The bruise Luc had left there from Friday night.

“Yes,” she said. “It did.” Though
nice
seemed too empty a word to use for what had happened between her and Luc. “So cappuccino?” She lifted a brow.

James nodded and mercifully didn’t ask any questions, which was good, because she didn’t want to answer them.

Friday night hadn’t been nice. It had been a key in a lock. The opening of a cage she’d been trapped in, allowing her to step outside for the first time in years. And she was still feeling the effects of that, even two days later.

She went off down the corridor in the direction of the café, humming a tune in her head, satisfaction seeping down into her bones.

Of course she had an ulterior motive for the coffee buying. She was hoping she might run into Luc. Probably a stupid move since they’d both agreed to only one night and that couldn’t change. But that didn’t stop the tight coil of anticipation from settling in her stomach as she emerged from the hallway and into the law school foyer where the café was situated.

She’d left him early Saturday morning, before he was awake. Dressing quickly and letting herself out of the apartment. She’d felt shitty for leaving without even a goodbye or a thank-you for what he’d given her, but she knew if she stayed she’d probably end up in his bed the rest of the damn day.

And that couldn’t happen. They’d said one night and that’s all it could be. Better to leave while she could.

But she thought about it all weekend. And felt crappy enough about leaving that she almost sent him a text apologizing. But then he didn’t call or text her either, so maybe he felt the same. Maybe it was over and done with for him too. Out of sight, out of mind, et cetera.

The thought was way more disappointing than it should have been.

Eleanor idly scanned the crowd of students outside the café doors. If she saw him she’d apologize for her walkout. And yeah, thank him for giving her back a little piece of herself. Maybe buy him a coffee or something.

He’d probably never know what he’d done for her, how big a step it had been for her to even allow him to tie her wrists. To give him a safe word and trust him to respect it. And how important it had been to be able to let herself enjoy her own sexuality for a change, instead of being afraid of it.

Yeah, it had been pretty vanilla compared to some of the things she’d done with Piers, and yet it had satisfied something deep inside her that had been hungry for a long time.

He deserves more than a coffee, you idiot.

And that was a pity. Because coffee was all she could offer him.

The woman behind the counter pushed the latte she’d ordered and James’s cappuccino toward her, but some sixth sense had her turning around.

Familiar black eyes met hers, an intense electric thrill going straight through her.

Luc.

For a second all the words completely left her head.

He was so tall, so beautiful in a dark-blue T-shirt and faded blue jeans that sat low on his lean hips. One hand was thrust in the pocket of his jeans, the strange fabric cuff he wore circling his wrist.

She remembered those hands and what they’d done to her. How he’d made her come so many times and all the dark, erotic orders he’d whispered in her ear as he did so…

“Did you have a good weekend, Mr. North?” she asked inanely, saying the first thing that came into her head.

“I didn’t give you permission to leave.” His voice was quiet, level, full of an authority that stole the breath from her body.

She blinked at him, her mouth suddenly dry. “Excuse me?”

“I think you heard me.” He stood there casually, but there was something burning in his dark eyes. Something that held her riveted to the spot, that made her heart speed up and a familiar ache gather between her thighs.

Holy fuck. Had he said what she thought he’d said? In the middle of the coffee line? At work?

Pull yourself together, you damn idiot.

But shock held her motionless, staring at him.

“We should discuss this in your office,” he said as if it were a done deal already. “Now is good.”

Tell him no. That he can’t pull that Dom shit here.

But people were waiting in line behind him. God, had they heard what he’d said?