Redeem My Heart (22 page)

“Am I free to use my hands tonight?” Fallon asked with a small smile, reminding him of the other night. It seemed so long ago and yet she couldn’t stop herself from provoking him into doing something she thoroughly enjoyed. “Or do you have restraints that might actually perform adequately this time?”

“Your hands for now,” Ryland murmured in warning and creating a fire enveloping Fallon’s soul. They wouldn’t be interrupted tonight and she would enjoy every second of it. “When we retire to the bedroom…well, anticipation is one of the most arousing aspects, now isn’t it?”

Chapter Eighteen

R
yland needed Fallon and he wasn’t the kind of man to need anything. He hadn’t intended to come here to her apartment, fully understanding how much scrutiny she was under by several entirely different parties. The information he’d discovered hadn’t needed verification and he could have proceeded on his own, but he hadn’t. He needed her to understand.

Fallon had undressed his lower half, even removing his side holster, taking her time and intentionally turning the tables on his comment regarding anticipation. Ryland’s cock was at attention and waiting to feel the heat of her lips. She was purposefully taking her time, but he didn’t mind in the least. It would make the end result that much more satisfying.

“Keep your bra on,” Ryland instructed, admiring the black lace that lay over her smooth pale skin. It would be a pleasure to remove it himself. “And those slacks.”

“I’d say ‘yes, sir’, but then that would change the dynamics of our relationship, wouldn’t it?” Fallon’s warm hand caressed his thigh in an upward fashion until she palmed his shaft. She settled in between his legs and maintained eye contact while she stroked his cock repeatedly, her confidence only adding to the tangible electricity that surrounded them. Her thumb traced a path over the tip, smearing the drop of pre-cum that had made an appearance. His balls became heavy as pleasure saturated his body. “I think I’m going to like taking my time, much like you did last night.”

Ryland was mesmerized by the graceful way she lowered her head. Her tongue lapped up his essence she’d captured with her thumb. It was when she closed her rosy lips over his cock that he gripped the sides of the chair to prevent himself from reaching out and touching her. The moment he did, he’d have her bent over the table in front of him with his dick buried inside of her pussy.

Fallon lowered her head, taking his cock all the way to the back of her throat and then back up to his tip before flicking her wrist in such a manner that it made him instantly want to come. He finally leaned his head back against the chair, enjoying every sensation she was producing with her warm oral touch. A moan escaped his throat when she palmed his balls with her other hand and pulled them down.

“Mmmm,” Fallon hummed, taking him back into her mouth. The vibration made him even harder, if that were at all possible. At this point, he could cut diamonds with his cock. She lightly sucked his tip while stroking his shaft…too delicately for his taste.

“Is this a turnabout of fair play?” Ryland asked, having cleared his throat so that he didn’t sound hoarse. “I can assure you that in less than ten minutes I’ll have you tied to your bed where you’ll be begging me to fuck you harder.”

“Then I guess I have ten minutes I hadn’t counted on to play,” Fallon whispered, looking up at him while she rubbed her palm on the underside of his cock where it was most sensitive. Her blue eyes sparkled at the arousing banter they’d exchanged and he found that he admired her ability to take charge and yet be submissive at the same time. “I better get to it then.”

Ryland didn’t have time to brace himself for the onslaught of pleasure that he experienced at her hand…her tongue…her mouth. She was vigorous in her task of pleasing him, and yet somehow kept him on the edge of that precipice where she controlled his descent by throttling his manhood. She currently tightened her finger and thumb around his base while she pleasured him with her mouth and every so often a flick of her tongue. She continued to massage his balls, thus pulling his attention in two different places. It wasn’t long before he felt that streak of heat shoot through his sac, indicating an imminent eruption. She then took him to the back of her throat and swallowed, releasing her fingers from around his base and allowing his seed to overspill into her mouth.

The muscles of Ryland’s jaw had gone rigid upon clenching his teeth while Fallon continued to drink down every last drop of his cum his balls could produce. It was intoxicating to watch her enjoying this act of pleasuring him. He’d needed this intimacy and she’d delivered, along with maintaining her faith in a man who didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t be who she wanted him to be and yet that didn’t stop her from trying to pull it out of him. She’d become his anchor when it was best for everyone involved that he drift away.

“Why?” Ryland asked before he could stop himself. He’d tangled his fingers in Fallon’s blonde hair, sending the clip to the floor and her strands falling around his arm. He’d brought her up against him so that her breasts lay against his shirt and he could see into her eyes, seeking answers that he wasn’t even sure she had. “Why?”

Ryland claimed her lips, hard and punishing. He didn’t want her answering that question just now. She could take it many different ways and he didn’t want the replies to any form of representation. Fallon had all but dedicated the last year of her life to figuring out what made him tick when it wouldn’t matter in the final scene. Her belief was stronger than anything he’d ever witnessed and maybe that was why he found her so fascinating. She was everything he was not—a true believer.

Everything froze with a single rap on Fallon’s door.

“Shit,” Fallon whispered, resting her forehead against his chin while she composed herself. Ryland helped her stand, even handing her the blouse she’d thrown to the floor. She was already shaking her head as she walked past him and down the abbreviated hallway. She returned shortly wearing a long silk robe that made it evident she’d removed the rest of her clothing underneath. “Go into the bedroom. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Well, isn’t this timely,” Ryland chimed in, taking off his shirt and then picking up the rest of his clothing and holstered firearm. He’d never been a modest man and was proud of his physique. Fallon’s eyes dipped lower to the place she’d just explored. “Just so you know, my dear, that will be the last directive you issue this evening.”

Ryland took the time to kiss her thoroughly before continuing on his way to her bedroom, which happened to be the first room on the right. He went about hanging up his clothes properly, listening intently to what was taking place in the small foyer half an apartment away. It was quiet enough that voices carried and he mentally stored that away for later use. He set his weapon on her nightstand, putting it within easy reach, and then went about setting the scene. Interestingly enough, she had a number of silk scarves long enough to do the job.

Fallon dabbled in the lifestyle of BDSM, only skimming the surface really. She liked to give up control for a time, but didn’t have interest in learning too much more. That was fine by him due to his yearning to dominate all situations, but he also had no curiosity for something deeper. They suited each other in that respect.

“That was…”

“Townes,” Ryland finished Fallon’s sentence after her voice trailed off, not bothering to turn his attention from the blood red scarves he was tying to her bedpost. “The acoustics in your apartment are astounding. You gave him the name of your superior and that of his, in hopes that we’ll have some more information come morning. I find it interesting that you didn’t talk that over with me before doing so. I must admit, your faith in my willingness to allow you or Crest to unearth my past without my firsthand knowledge never fails to astonish me.”

“You wouldn’t be here if you thought you could obtain intelligence quicker than what Crest or myself could produce,” Fallon said confidently, if not a little vaguely. Ryland smiled when he caught a glimpse of her in the large mirror above her dresser. She was leaning against the doorframe admiring his physique. It was quite unfair when she was all but covered from neck to calf. “I made a decision and it’s done.”

“It’s far from over, my dear.” Ryland tested the hold on the restraints and was rather pleased with the outcome. “The one thing I can appreciate is that you didn’t inform them that I was here. That could be a costly mistake if another team is sent in courtesy of the E.D.A.”

“How long is a flight to Switzerland?” Fallon asked, reminding him of the information he’d already divulged to her. They roughly had eight hours before E.D.A. realized he wasn’t on the private aircraft into Geneva. “By that time, we’ll either have confirmation that Quaid or Utley had some sort of professional connection to one of the key players we’ve linked with the program thus far or they’ll be discounted.”

“Your profile is what brought those details to my attention to begin with,” Ryland credited, finally turning around to face her. It was quite attractive the way she bit her lip and her cheeks flushed. “And so further business can wait until tomorrow.”

Ryland didn’t bring up that tonight could very well be the last time they saw each other, especially if what he thought might transpire actually happened. He currently had an alternate contact working from outside the country who was doing their utmost to uncover whatever dirt could be found on Quaid and Utley. They wouldn’t take this threat lying down and it could very well take a lethal turn should they think Fallon was the one who held the cards. Ryland would see to it that she remained untouched…at least by them or their minions. Right now, he was relishing the thought that he would have the pleasure of touching her rather intimately in short order.

“What did you have in mind?” Fallon asked, her hand untying the thin belt around her waist. She then slid her hands inside the silky material and let it skim over her shoulders to the ground. She’d once again not listened to his directives, but he was coming to expect that. “I’m liking those scarves you’ve attached to my bedpost.”

“For an agent professionally trained by the federal government, you sure do have a tendency to disobey orders.” Ryland waited until she was within a foot of him before reaching for her wrist and pulling her against him. Her small cry was that of eagerness and not fear. “If I recall correctly, you antagonized me last night…saying something about child’s play?”

“Bring it on, Mr. Bowers,” Fallon said, the challenge written in her blue eyes. Ryland wouldn’t rise to the bait of his birth name, but he would absolutely take her up on that dare. “Oh!”

Fallon wasn’t quite prepared for when Ryland flipped her forward onto the bed. He had her hands secured before she fully comprehended what he’d just done. It was then that he took his time wrapping the soft scarves around her ankles one at a time. She was now facedown and spread eagle, already working on reaching the knots at her wrist.

“Do you enjoy spankings, Ms. Canna?” Ryland asked, meeting her head to head on the surnames. He lightly caressed her rear end as he propped her hips up with a pillow just under her taut waist, admiring the subtle curves as they wiggled during her attempt at escaping. “Before you answer that, let me once again state that I don’t play games like those you’ve been with before. You say stop, we stop. It’s that simple. Now, back to the topic of spankings…”

“Ryland, flip me over,” Fallon ordered with a laugh. He caught the tremor in her voice and suddenly a genuine intensity settled over the room, raising their arousal level. She was under his control and there was no getting out of her restrains unless he allowed it. A rush of dominance pounded through his bloodstream and he tested hers by running a finger through her folds. “Oh God, I’m wet.”

“That you are, my dear,” Ryland agreed, pressing a knee into the mattress as he leaned over and placed a light kiss on the left cheek of her ass. Fallon buried her face into the comforter with a drawn-out, coveting moan. “Shall we see if a small spanking makes you any wetter?”

“Ry—”

He spanked her right cheek with the back of an antique ivory brush handle, approving of the pink imprint the carved floral pattern had left behind. He hadn’t paddled her hard yet, but just enough that it would smart. The guttural moan was now a groan and her fingers wrapped around the taut ties for something to hold onto.