Restrained and Willing (6 page)

“My roommate borrowed them for a fun night with her
boyfriend. Never gave them back.”

“You took them to college?” He allowed his surprise to show
rather than analyze the relief he felt over the fact she hadn’t taken them to
experiment with some inexperienced, beer-guzzling frat boy.

“Hell, yes. And a good thing too. Or did you forget about
the room remodel Dad and you three surprised me with over my first Christmas
holiday? I can imagine the hell that would’ve broken loose had they been
found.”

He chuckled. “Point taken.”

As they talked, he alternately skated and plucked his thumb
over the hard elongated tip of her breast. They’d look so damn beautiful
clamped. And who knew, if things worked out well between them, maybe he could
even convince her to get her nipples pierced. His tongue went hard in
anticipation of licking the little engorged buds and toying with some little
gold loops. “We’ll get you a new set of clamps.”

“I’d like that.” The last syllable was lost on a breathy
pant when he gave her nipple a semi-hard tug.

“I’m sure you will. But not as much as I’ll like seeing the
titillating effects they have on you. Testing your tolerance for the light,
pleasurable pain they’ll give.”

The slightest pull on her hair had her arching back farther.

He deserted her breast to splay his other hand over the
small rise of her stomach. He loved the silky-smooth texture, the perceptible
tremble of the soft pliable surface beneath his touch. She was exquisitely
responsive. He could barely wait to experience the extent of her
responsiveness.

A slight shift of his hand and he encompassed her outer
thigh, slowly drew his hand down until he cupped the back of her knee. “I could
spend half the night running my hands over you.”

“I love having your hands on me,” she whispered. “I can’t
tell you how many times I’ve dreamed of you touching me. Making love to me.”

He breathed deeply and took his time lifting his gaze,
looking his fill as he moved up her body until he connected with her chocolate
bedroom eyes. “Is that so?” He leaned down and claimed her lips, basking in
their sensuous feel for long, tender moments. When he broke away, her breathing
was labored, her eyes dreamy.

“Hang on, brat. Because starting tonight, all your dreams,
all those erotic fantasies you wrote in your diary, are about to become
reality.” He tenderly brushed a few wayward strands of hair from the side of
her face, tucked them behind her ear. “Lean back. Spread those long, gorgeous
legs for me.”

After Pierce released the grip on her hair, positioned his
arm to best support her neck and shoulders and shifted his legs wider to allow
her body a more stable platform, Heather eased back into the cradling support
of his thick arm.

For such a large man, Pierce was beauty in motion. His every
execution a fluid, artful economy of grace. How could any woman not be relaxed
in his company?

Stomach fluttering, Heather dropped one arm to curl her hand
around one of his muscular calves, burrowed the other arm beneath his and
hooked her thumb through one of the back belt loops on his pants.

She gazed up at him with a sly smile. “You did tell me to
hang
on
. I’m taking you at your word.”

“Smart woman.” Playful amusement flared briefly in his
compelling green eyes, quickly morphing to emerald fire when she raised her
right leg with slow deliberation to stretch it out along the edge of the bed
and spread her left leg out as far as it would comfortably reach on the floor.

As she’d hoped, Pierce took immediate advantage of her
exposed position, bending to torment a nipple lightly between his teeth at the
same time the tip of his finger made contact with her aching pussy. Not the
deep plunge of fulfillment her feverish mind anticipated, but an experimental
feathering around the perimeter of her wet opening. Any other time, with any
other man, she’d be happy to luxuriate in the courteous languorous foreplay.
Not tonight. Not after all the frustrating, unfulfilled fantasies about this
man.

Unfortunately, Pierce seemed determined to take things slow.
She didn’t need the skills of her accelerated master’s degree to deduce there’d
be no quick, mutually gratifying fuck for them tonight.

Once Pierce made up his mind, no amount of feminine pleading
would change it. Verified by the video of him she’d pilfered. The man possessed
a rock-solid will she doubted a pneumatic jackhammer could break through.

With an inward sigh, she resigned herself to bask in his
single-minded sensual attention. At least until he drove her mad with
frustration. Then she’d have to figure out a way to get him to stuff her so
full of his cock, there’d be no thought other than how damn great it felt.

The tip of his finger breached the barrier of her wet folds.

“More.” The word came out breathless, needy. An alien sound.
At the moment, she didn’t give a good damn. Over the years, she’d turned her
need for Pierce into a mental art form that would baffle Einstein himself.
Pierce was the one chink in her tough emotional armor that she revered rather
than reviled. Unconditional love had a way of doing that to a person.

“Not enough?” Humor laced his question. “Let’s see if you’re
saying the same thing later. After I’ve made you come five or six times.”

Her eyes widened, her gaze zeroing in on his. “Five or si—”
She swallowed her astonishment. Three was her standing one-time record. And
she’d been damn proud of that. Even if there had been some instructional
guidance on her part. After the first climax, it took forever for the second.
In her book, three orgasms had been right up there with the parting of the Red
Sea.

Instead of the expected
we’ll see, Mr. Braggart
from
her libido, it rubbed its greedy little hands together in eagerness.

His finger slid in a little deeper.

“If you’re a good girl and let me have my wicked way with
you, I might toss in an extra orgasm for good measure.”

Oh, hell yes!

She wrapped up her escalating impatience in duct tape and
tossed it into the proverbial trunk. “My body’s all yours.”
Along with the
rest of me, Mr. Commitment Phobic. All it would take would be a little crook of
your talented finger.
In this case, pun definitely intended.

As if he had a direct line to her internal conversation, he
probed deeper, curled his finger, barely grazing the inside of her sensitive
opening. She gritted her teeth. Not…quite…where she needed it, but making
progress. Slight as it was.

Determined to cash in on all his promises, she drew a
fortifying breath. She wasn’t taking any chances with his earlier declaration
of bedroom equality. Highly unlikely he could turn off his dominance as if it
were a light switch. Not that he’d lied or wouldn’t give it his best shot. But
she knew him well. Knew herself even better. With him, only him, she was more
than willing to relinquish all control. Put her cherished, long-awaited
fantasies in his large, slightly rough, capable hands.

The slight withdrawal of his finger snapped her out of her
thoughts as she locked her gaze with his.

“Along with giving me your body, your full attention would
be a nice bonus.” It was a mild rebuke, during which he thankfully didn’t
remove his finger altogether, lightly gliding it up, down, up, down through her
slick folds.

“Sorry.”

“Not as sorry as you would be if I were in full discipline
mode.” A slightly sinister smile played at the corners of his generous mouth.
“Lucky for you, I’m not. This is about
feeling
, not thinking. Relax. I
promise you won’t be disappointed.”

How sweet. He thought she was nervous. She was so going to
grab onto that lifeline, as her earlier thoughts were something she wasn’t
anxious to share. As for disappointed, a woman would have to be certifiable to
even consider the word in regard to the hunk whose muscle-laden thighs she was
sprawled across. “Okay.” A generic answer he could interpret any way he wanted
to.

She took a deep breath and allowed her body to relax further
into the muscular cradle of his arm.

His approving smile was accompanied by a deeper penetration
of his finger. A good second knuckle’s worth.

A slight curl and a couple of soft fingertip scratches
and…bingo! Her G-spot.

Left toes digging into the plush carpet, right toes curling
for purchase into the mattress, her hips levitated to meet his sure, steady
strokes.

“Now that I’ve got your full attention…” His strokes became
firmer, a tad faster.

She whimpered. Confident of the strong-armed support across
her upper back, she raised her butt off his thighs, spread hers wider in
encouragement and executed a reclining, toe-balancing act a prima ballerina
would envy.

She screwed her eyes shut tight.

“Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Just like,” a strangled whimper pried its
way past her constricted throat muscles, “THAT!”

Every muscle in her body tensed a second before she was
dynamited free of their tenacious hold and vaulted into a colorful prismatic
realm of ecstasy.

“That was…” She took several shallow breaths. “That was—”

“One down. Five more to go.” Between one breathless pant and
the next, her butt was cliff-hanging off the edge of the bed, Pierce kneeling
on the floor between her quaking thighs, held open wide by the massive expanse
of his shoulders. The shift was so fast, his finger remained buried inside her.

“Wait.” Two more pants barged past her lips. “You can’t mean
to—”

He plunged his finger deep and latched on to her clit for a
hard suck.

“Oh God! You do.”

He nibbled a bit, deserting her throbbing clit to attend to
her neglected labia. Up down, around, slow lapping strokes through the outer
creases. Used the tip of his tongue to lick around her stretched opening to
ease the way for the slow, even strokes of his pumping finger. In. Out. In.
Out. The occasional twist. A slow, tortuous rhythm that had her desperation
swinging from wanting more to wanting a small respite from the overload of
sensation.

She latched on to the bedspread, crumpling the fabric in her
grasp.

Another lick. Another suck. Another long, slow, slow glide
of his finger before he withdrew altogether.

Thank God! A much-needed breather.

A short-lived lull, as a heartbeat later, two fingers filled
her and Pierce started the sugar-coated torture all over again.

She wriggled. Moaned. “Too much. Please, I need a minute.”

Her appeal went unheeded. Overridden by his deep-throated
murmur. “Mmmm. You taste so damn good. So fucking, unbelievably sweet.” He
flipped his hand, palm up, riding in and out of her tender flesh, bringing his
thumb into play to tease her clit in tandem with his clever tongue.

Too sensitive. Too much. Too soon.

A litany that never passed her lips as he relentlessly
attended to his stimulating task.

She gulped a breath to clear her airway for the moan clawing
its way up from the pit of her clenched stomach. Every muscle, every tendon,
bunching in preparation for the cataclysmic event soon to come.

She thrashed her head back and forth. A useless gesture
since he couldn’t see it. How could he with his gorgeous black-haired head
buried between her legs as he drove her to mind-numbing madness.

She lifted her head, swallowed and licked her lips. “I
can’t.”

He raised his head to catch her gaze. “Yes, brat. You
can
.”
His warm breath streamed across her overstimulated clit as his diligent fingers
kept her stoked and on edge.

It was a gently spoken, sensual command. A command,
nonetheless. One she was determined to obey. She’d never been a quitter.
Graduating summa cum laude from Yale proved that. There hadn’t been a dry eye
among the four macho men who’d attended the ceremony. Pierce had been proud of
her then. She’d make him proud again. Surely this wouldn’t be the last time
she’d have to prove her mettle.

She nodded.

A gleam of approval flashed in his smoky green eyes before
he lowered his mouth.

She took a much-needed breath to bolster her determination
and let her head fall back to the mattress. Desperate to touch him, she sank
her fingers into the thick mass of soft midnight atop his head.

He resumed his mission with a vengeance.

She thrashed. Moaned. Clutched his hair, at times so hard
she marveled it didn’t separate from his scalp.

Not that he seemed to notice or care, since he never
relented.

At one point, he replaced his fingers with his thumb.
Diligently working it between her drenched folds. Switched back.

He increased the suction on her clit, the deep, forceful
penetration of his fingers, making her entire body hum.

On the verge of screaming for mercy, she sucked the sound
back, blindsided by the sudden unexpected invasion of her backside by his
thumb. Slick from her overflowing pussy juices, the invasion happened so fast,
she didn’t have time to tense.

When her peak hit, it hit hard and without warning.
Instigated by an extra-hard suck on her clit, the deep double penetration, the
slight erotic pain propelled her to a new plane of sexual gratification.

“Pierce!”

The uninhibited sound that ripped past her straining neck
tendons and ricocheted around the painted high concrete walls and bounced off
the ceiling was most likely heard halfway down the warehouse district.

Breaths heavy, sporadic, it took a good deal of time to
become aware of her surroundings, the feel of being encased in a tender
embrace, the Cheshire cat grin of the man looking down on her. The fact that he
was naked.

Naked!

Crap!

How long had she been oblivious? Frolicking in her
post-climax wonderland.

Apparently long enough for him to strip, scoot her up so her
head was now on the pillow and then settle his buff body next to her.