Taking Control (2 page)

Tiny is correct. Richard Howe is the scum of the earth. The ironic thing is that he is also the one that brought us together.

Until I met Tiny, I’d been good at compartmentalization, putting each person or activity in its own separate mental file drawer. Trying to ignore the strength of my developing feelings for her, I thought to use her against Richard. But she wouldn’t remain in one area; instead, her influence crept into every aspect of my life.

I was wholly unprepared for the depth of my feelings for Tiny. Or, more likely, I had been denying them. I wanted her but hadn’t realized until the moment I saw them together, not even touching, that I’d rather burn the whole world down than have another man lay a finger on her.

I tried to swallow down the rage and allow Tiny to lure him in, but as each minute ticked by and he stood close enough to touch her, my anger was stoked hotter and hotter. And when he took her on the dance floor and placed his fucking hands on her, my restraint was ripped to shreds. There would be no joy in my life without her. I wish I had realized it earlier.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Kaga, one of my few friends, had asked me at the time. “If you walk out there, he’s going to know what she means to you.”

“If I watch him try to touch her ass one more time, you’ll be visiting me in prison,” I’d said.

That he even knows her name is my own goddamn fault.

I rub my forehead. “When I first returned to the city, I had these grand ideas that I’d storm his townhome and wrench a confession out of him. It didn’t take long to realize that he’d never confess. I kept making money, and in the meantime, I started to buy up his debt. About eight years ago, I had enough of his debt that I could have made it difficult for him but then at a party, his wife approached me. I don’t think she remembered me or knew who I was. She just came up out of the blue and started telling me about how she volunteered at a women’s crisis hotline and how life changing it was. She asked if I would be interested in donating.”

“So she stayed your hand?”

“Yes. Every time I was in a position to do something to Howe, I’d see her at an event. She’d share her latest charitable activities with me. She was doing things that could have helped my mother. She would mention
how much she missed my mother.
” I clenched my fists in frustration. “Could I be the instrument of her ruin as Howe was for my mother? I found I couldn’t. And I felt sorry for her because Richard cheated on her regularly. She had to know about his infidelity. Discretion wasn’t important to him, although he rarely hunted in their social circles. He preferred the working class, like waitresses, models—which are often one and the same in the city. Women he viewed as disposable. Possibly worse, she loves him. Even now, after all these years, her eyes follow him across a room. Now that I have you, I recognize her longing even more acutely. How deeply devoted she is to him.”

“You thought that a scandal would separate her from him.”

“Yes, even if it would be painful, if I could decouple her from him before I struck, then I wouldn’t have her wounds on my conscience.” I shake my head. “I’ll think of something else.” She presses her face close to my chest. I feel her trembling. “What is it?” I ask urgently.

“You’re amazing, Ian Kerr. Your compassion is inspiring. I don’t know if I could be that generous in the same situation.” She rains kisses on my shoulders and at the base of my neck.

“If you were another woman, I’d say you were buttering me up for something. But since you won’t even take what I’m willing to give you without argument, I’m going to have to ask: Are you on drugs? Because I distinctly remember you calling me an arrogant asshole more than once.”

“That was before I realized that you needed me help to correct your character flaws. I’m here now.”

“You’re like a missionary then, to save me from myself?” I’m only half joking.

“That’s right and from all the other women in New York City. I’m sacrificing myself on the altar of Ian Kerr’s pleasure in order to prevent heartbreak and sorrow across the city.”

“You deserve sainthood.” I pull her tight against me and kiss her in gratitude for driving away my moodiness.

“In honor of my impending deification, will you take me to bed and make me see heaven again?”

“Mmmm,” I murmur against her lips. “I’m sorry but no. You’re too swollen and tender.”

She draws away from me, although the circle of my arms doesn’t allow her to get far. “Are you sick? Because I swear I heard you turn me down.”

“I’m not turning you down. I’m…delaying our gratification until later.”

“Delayed gratification is for suckers. I want you now.” She looks determined, but I get my way.
Always.

Picking her up, I carry her back to the bed and slide down her body until I’m kneeling between her legs. “I’ll take care of you, bunny.”

Softly, tenderly, as if she were a virgin, I stroke her delicate lips. Her clit slowly emerges, as if jealous of the attention given to her other body parts. I lick my thumb and rub it lightly across the tip.

“Ian,” she moans. My name on her lips in that breathy tone has the same effect as mainlining aphrodisiacs. My already-erect cock throbs in response. I’m starting to believe in soul mates and life in the hereafter, because one lifetime won’t be enough with Victoria Corielli.

Sliding my palms under her ass, I lift her to my mouth.

There is so much for me to learn about her body, about what she wants and where she wants it. We haven’t even started talking about fantasies. I’ll do her any way that turns her on, in every place, and in every position. I know she likes my mouth between her legs, but her enthusiasm at giving me pleasure is unexpected.

When she has me in her mouth, her eyes become heavy-lidded with desire and her juices drip down to coat her thighs. She sucks me as if my cock is the only thing she’s ever wanted and she’s afraid it will be the last time she can pleasure me.

The memory of her excitement at swallowing my hard length spurs me on. Her voice—hoarse after I’ve fucked her throat hard—telling me how much she loves sucking me off echoes in my head, a mental soundtrack I replay repeatedly. I need to hear her screams now. Those noisy affirmations of how much she needs me are the most amazing morning wakeup calls in the world.

I’m too horny right now to lick her slowly. I need to feel her orgasm all over my face, to have her thighs clench my head in a vise grip, as if nothing is ever going to separate the two of us.

I suck at her lips, separating the folds with my tongue. Placing my thumb—wet from her arousal—on her clit, I tease her with tongue and lips until her thighs are moving restlessly beside my head, bumping my ears.

The taste of her is making me wild. My cock is thick and hard and even the expensive sheets are chafing my sensitive skin. Inside her, my mental caveman grunts. Need inside her.

I thrust my fingers inside, curling them forward until I find that small, spongy spot that makes her cry out.

“Oh shit, Ian.” The hand on my head tightens and my scalp begins to protest, but the pain brings a smile to my face. She’s getting there. It’s heaven down
here
. I could live here, her essence sustaining me for days. Opening my mouth wide, I engulf her pussy. Every little crevice is explored and sucked until her whole body stiffens and arches in front of me. Her soft walls are starting to convulse, and her thighs tighten.

“That’s it, bunny. Just let go.” I lap at her, maintaining the rhythm that brought her to the peak. She pulses her hips against my fingers and mouth. I torture her with my lips, tongue, and fingers until she’s crying out my name and pulling and pushing against me at the same time. Wrapping my free arm under her thighs and up around her waist to hold her against my mouth, I devour her as she bucks against me. A wild, keening sound erupts from her, and I suck down her come as it streams onto my tongue.

“Have I told you that I love you?” she whispers and pulls me to her for a fierce kiss. Her teeth nip at mine and then our mouths are fused. For long moments, the only air that we breathe is through each other. Breaking away, she pants and presses soft kisses along my jaw and down my neck.

“Only once today.” I smooth her hair back. We’ve made a mess of it. The long blonde strands are tangled and matted, but she’s never looked sexier. My gut tightens at the thought that others have seen her in this just-fucked state.

“What’s that look for?” she asks, smoothing a hand across my sweat-dampened skin.

“I’m a jealous fucker.” Roughly, I kiss her as if I can brand her with my mouth. No one but me will ever get to see her this disheveled again.

“Are you just figuring that out, because it was pretty evident a few weeks ago when you dragged me out of the bar by my hair.”

“It was by your hand, but if you’re okay with the hair dragging, I can pull that off the next time we’re out.”

She pinches me lightly. “No, I’m not into the hair dragging thing. I’m not against a little hair pulling, though.”

“Is that right?” My tone is light, but her words have made my cock harder than marble.

“This can’t be comfortable.” Her hand dips down to stroke me and I shudder at the caress.

Comfortable? No. “It’ll go away if you ignore it,” I lie.

“I don’t want to ignore it. I want it inside me.”

I shake my head. “You’re too sore, bunny.” I rub a finger over her lips, shiny and plump from our kisses. “I’ll hurt you.”

“I’ll feel worse if you don’t,” she pleads.

Her gentle begging makes me even harder, and I feel a twinge of guilt that her helpless desire turns me on even more. A decent man wouldn’t feel good about hearing his woman beg. Hell, a decent man probably never refers to his companion as his woman. But since I raised myself from the age of thirteen, I’ve developed my own rules and my own code.

I want. I take. I keep.

Tiny belongs to me now, and I’m not letting her go. She’s mine to love and to care for. Right now that means not fucking her again no matter how hard she begs for it.

TWO

M
Y
ENTIRE
BODY
PROTESTS
AS
I gently pull her hand off my cock. It’s about as easy as walking into a fifty mile-per-hour headwind and I’m sweating with the effort, but I manage to put about two inches of distance between us.

“Don’t tempt me. You’re too sore, and I’d cut off my right nut before I’d hurt you.”

“Your right nut? That’s some serious talk. Usually a guy only offers his left nut.” She erases the two inches and slips a leg over mine. My little head tells me that if I don’t impale her within the next five seconds, we’re all going to die. I take a few deep breaths to regain some self-control and inch backward.

“You can’t talk about another guy’s nuts in our bed. It makes me want to mark my territory.”

“Come on then, take me.” She rolls on her side and strokes a hand down my chest, trailing her fingers across my abdomen and the hard planes of my obliques. Each little kitten touch is making everything harder. Jackknifing out of bed and away from her clever fingers, I head to the bathroom, rubbing my hair in agitation. Soon I’ll be rubbing something else, because I won’t be able to step foot out of my house without being arrested for public indecency if I don’t do something about this goddamn erection.

Behind me, I hear her footsteps.

“Is your dick hard, Ian? Do you want me to lick it?” There’s glee in her voice as she mocks me.

Fuck
yes
.

“No, bunny. I want you to lie down and rest.” Inside the shower, I flick on the full array of sprays.

“I’m not an invalid, and you’re sucking up at least half the Hudson with that thing,” she says.

Turning back, I see her, completely nude, leaning against my black marble vanity. She looks like a goddess. I hit the temperature controls. I’m going to need it to be refrigerator cold inside the shower to get rid of my hard-on.

“Good thing the ‘Bruce Wayne fuckpad’ has a direct drain back into the river.” I use her nickname for my Meatpacking District home.

“How cold is it in there?” She’s crept closer to the shower, and I can still see her naked body through the water-spattered glass. I turn the water even colder. “Because I think I can see my breath out here.”

She purses her lips and blows, her cheeks hollowed and her lips a perfect circle. I swear she’s doing this to purposely torment me. Taking my cock in hand, I lean against the glass with the other and stare at her while I pump my shaft. She drifts toward me until there’s nothing separating us but the sheet of glass. The water drives against my back like thin needles but my cock is on fire. Her gaze never wavers from mine and even through the drops of water and the clear glass wall, I can see both her love and her lust.

I don’t need her hand on me. I just need to see
her
. She reaches out her hand so that it mirrors mine, the action causing her body to elongate as she stretches. Her breasts press against the glass, the nipples hardening due to the cold, due to me. They’re so hard that they resist flattening, instead poking forward like darts and displacing the soft tissue surrounding them.

My mouth waters. I’ve had those precious tits in my mouth a dozen times but I can’t wait for a dozen more. I want my tongue flicking against those hard tips. As if she can read my mind, she reaches down and cups one of her breasts. Her fingers roll one hardened nipple between them.

Breathing choppily, I jerk faster until my thighs are shaking and my balls are ready to burst. “I’m going to come now,” I pant and she nods her head. In understanding? Agreement? I have no idea, but the orgasm rolls up from the base of my spine until I spurt against the glass and on the floor, my hips pumping into the air. I let loose a groan and Tiny’s mouth opens as if she’s swallowing the sound. The air is filled with the musky scent of my ejaculate. She licks her fingers and smiles, an evil temptress smile. God, I fucking love her.

Without the adrenaline of arousal, the water is far too cold. I switch the hot on and soap up, lifting the handheld showerhead to wash away the evidence of my jacking off. Tiny has disappeared. I’m simultaneously disappointed and relieved. Disappointed because I want her with me always, and relieved because I don’t think my heart can stand another round right now.