The Arrangement (The Blankenships Book 9) (3 page)

“I need to start packing,” she said, after a little time had passed. She gave him a long, measuring glance up and down the length of his body, and he felt his dick stir beneath its towel. “And maybe you should put on some clothes. If you’re not going to force me down on my knees to blow you again.”

If it wasn’t for the luscious, overheated look in her eyes, he might have been concerned that she was irritated with him. Many of the people he’d been with had been thrilled by his strong sexual appetite for a time, but eventually gotten irritated with how quickly he could be hard and aching again. He’d worked hard to make sure that he wasn’t demanding, that he always listened to his partner and respected what they wanted or needed, but when his cock rose up at the slightest thought of his or theirs—well, it became challenging.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” he said, reaching for the growl that made her eyes flutter without thinking about it. He saw her nostrils flare as she took in the heat, then turned her back to him and went back into the bedroom. Her hips swayed easily as she walked, and just before she rounded the corner out of sight, she glanced back over her shoulder.

It was a come hither look if he’d ever seen one, and he ripped the towel off his waist and followed her. If they were going to die as soon as they got to New York City, then goddammit, he was going down with another one of her fantastic blowjobs in mind.

CHAPTER THREE

She heard the rough sound his breath made in his throat before his hand caught the back of her neck. She was too sore to want more of him between her legs, at least not until later, but something in her was still unsatisfied. Something in her was still so needy that it ached.

His hand squeezed on the back of her neck, just tight enough to twinge. Her cunt clenched tight around nothing. Yes, this. This was what she’d wanted when he’d said he was going to hurt her. She’d wanted him to mean it. “Bitch,” he said, his face twisted with rage, but his eyes gentle and soft, watching her so carefully. “Do you think you can just tease me and walk away like that? Is this what you wanted?”

It gave her shivers, how neatly he negotiated the question into the scene. “Yes,” she whimpered, and the softness washed out of his eyes. He was all hard lines and twisted emotions, and his cock was jutting out at an almost angry angle. She was hungry for him, as he pushed her down to her knees, hungry to have him push at her mouth, fuck her fiercely, to feel him stretch and bruise her lips as she took him inside her mouth.

He ripped her shirt, from the neckline down to her belly button. She made an indignant sound, and got a light slap around her ear. “Behave,” he growled, and she loved it, she loved how she was wet all over again at the sight of him, naked and strong. She reached out with just her tongue, licking over the head of his cock as he hissed in his breath with an angry little sound. “Is this what you want from me?”

His hand twisted into her hair. He grabbed enough that it didn’t hurt, but it did twist her head exactly where he wanted it, staring down his cock. She licked him again, but turned her head disobediently to the side when he thrust forward. The wetness of her tongue and his cock smeared over her cheek, and he made another irritated little sound. “Fucking tease,” he murmured. “Are you looking to have me punish you even more?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, because it was true. His eyes darkened just a little bit more, and God, it gave her such a thrill to see that, such a naughty, nasty little thrill all through her.

They hadn’t pushed for more since that one night when everything had gotten so dark and frightening. They’d had sex in every position she’d been able to imagine, and some she’d never considered, but he’d never done more than pin her hands down or make her grab the headboard and promise not to let go.

That wasn’t what she wanted now. That wasn’t at all what she wanted.

“If you can’t behave,” he said, his eyes locked on hers, carefully reading every emotion that she let surface, “I’m going to have to tie your hands down and make you behave. Is that what you want?”

She fluttered her eye lashes, scared to say the words. He leaned forward just enough to grip her chin and tilt it up until her eyes met his gaze again. “Say it.”

“Yes,” she whispered. Her voice was hoarse and ugly and twisted in her throat, but she got the word out. “Do it.”

He turned away from her, his eyes searching the room, she imagined, for something he could use to hold her down and restrain her. Her heart slapped like a snare drum, making it hard for her to breathe. The last time things had gone sideways, he’d also been emotionally distraught, and angry, and he’d said himself that he never should have approached her in that mood. Was she recreating the exact same problem? And this time, in a foreign country, when she had no legal documentation, and no money?

No
. She pushed the ugly thoughts away. There was a difference between caution and fear. There was a difference between being careful and being afraid to live. She needed to be careful, but she trusted him. He’d regained her trust. He’d done everything he could to keep her safe. He could have left her in his penthouse in New York, sent her to bed like a child, and then disappeared with his friend. No one would have been any the wiser. Until the police came to arrest him and took her instead. After all, she would have been the fish they could catch. Men like Alexander Blankenship had eternal fields of high powered lawyers—which she knew; she’d taken advantage of them a few times these past few weeks as well.

The only thing that had made him take her with him was that he was an honorable man, and he cared for her.

When he came back, he was carrying the tie to his bathrobe. He moved behind her, slowly and easily, and wrapped crossed her wrists over each other, binding them loosely with the cotton tie. It wouldn’t hold for long, and she knew if she really needed to, she’d be able to pull it loose without too much trouble—but then, they weren’t going for realism now. Somehow, he knew that she was hungry for this, but also afraid of what it meant, and he respected that as he bound her wrists together.

And then he stood in front of her again. If anything, he’d become more engorged as he tied her hands together. She took his cockhead between her lips and moaned lightly at the salty flavor of him on her tongue. She licked at him, ready to keep teasing, but when he reached out, wrapping his hand in her hair again and thrusting back toward her throat, she wasn’t really surprised. The aggression in his movements made her fingers twine tighter, her pussy clenching against itself as she yearned for him all over again.

He filled her mouth as fast as he’d filled her cunt earlier, slamming all the way inside of her. He touched the back of her throat and she gagged. He pulled back for a moment, giving her a bare second to catch her breath. “Swallow,” he said, and pressed at her again. She wanted to push him off her, but her hands were tied back. She panicked, all of a sudden, her eyes flying wide, and she shook her head from side to side.

He backed off, right away, his eyes watching her with concern, all push of the dark need gone. “Do you want to safe word?”

She’d only said it once before with him, and God, when she’d said it, things had spiraled entirely out of control. She was twisted around, and didn’t know what to say, what to do.

His thumb stroked her cheek as softly as he knew how, as softly as he ever had, and all her fear faded away. “Hey,” he said, and there was no growl, no anger in his voice. “Hey, beautiful. Listen to me. It’s okay. If this is too much, it’s okay. No harm, no foul. Just say.”

It gave her a crazy confidence. “I don’t want to stop,” she said, her voice quieter than she’d expected. “But I don’t know how to do what you want.”

He gripped her hair again and drew her forward, pulling her mouth over the length of his cock. “When you feel like you’ll gag,” he said, “swallow instead. Trust I won’t hurt you.”

She was skeptical, but as he pressed into the depths of her mouth, she followed his instructions, swallowing when the tip of him pressed at the back of her throat. Instead of the sharp gagging sensation, he passed into the depths of her throat, filling her even more intimately. Part of her was tempted to panic, to push back against this invasion. The rest of her was delirious with joy at how fucking good it felt.

Alex seemed to agree. His fingers were tighter in her hair, and his hips shook with tension. Her fingers clenched, hungry to hold his hips, both to balance herself and to steady his thrusts into her mouth. He was growing ragged already. He’d come so hard, so recently, but between tying her up, and the sensation of his thick cock slipping farther into her, his teeth were tight on his lip as he fought for control. She let him fuck her, let her lips stretch, her tongue curl around his length as he pounded into her mouth. Her pussy was clenching in rhythm with his motions, hungry for him all over again, but so satisfied, so pleased at the delicious sensations roaring through her.

When he came, he shot down her throat, and she worked harder to meet him as he came. What she felt wasn’t quite like an orgasm. It was more like the soft, delicious sensation that came after. The slow, steady feeling of peace and relaxation that came in the waves of bliss.

The pulses of his seed faded, and his knees buckled. He leaned backwards, his back resting against the foot of the bed, and then he reached out to her, his arm closing on her arm. She thought he’d pull her towards him to cuddle, and she went to him easily, but then he turned her, pressing her back into his chest, and hooking her knees outside of his.

“My hands,” she murmured, wiggling her fingers against the firm flesh of his stomach.

“What about them?” His tongue traced a heated path down the side of her throat, and she groaned. He made her so hot, so needy, over and over. And her cunt was wide open, spread to the room. It was filthy, deliciously wanton, and she twisted against him, groaning, that peace still within her, but driving her towards something else now.

“I can’t touch you.”

“You are touching me.” One of his hands splayed over her lower belly, kneading at her flesh. He teased at the upper line of her mound, tracing into her curls, running his fingers along her outer lips. She could feel him testing her reactions, giving her space to say yes or no. She arched her hips up into his fingers, and she felt his smile against her shoulder. “I love how much you want me.”

“I love how it feels when you touch me.”

“Like this?” He asked her, as his pointer and middle fingers landed on either side of her clit, gripping it between them and tugging gently—and then less gently—at the nub of nerves and flesh.

The thick need burned through her then, boiling up out of the place it went when she was satisfied, but never all the way sated, and with her hands braced against his stomach, she arched again, trying to get more contact, to convince him to slide those thick fingers deep inside of her.

“Can you imagine if Leo were here,” he murmured against her ear, keeping his fingers carefully away from where she most wanted them, tugging softly on her clit as she made small, whimpering noises of desperate need. “I’d make him kneel down in front of you and devour you while I spread you wider and wider. You’d buck your hips up into his mouth, and he’d fuck you with his tongue while I held you back and still.”

“Oh god,” she murmured, the words choking off and slipping around in her mouth before escaping. The tugs on her clit were tighter, more intense, and she found her hips shifting in rhythm against his fingers. “Jesus, Alex, oh my god.”

“Does it feel good?”

“I want more.”

His fingers came away, slapped at her cunt so hard that it stung, and then went back to their tugging. She moaned, thick and slow; her head hung loose. “Answer my question.”

“It feels good. It feels—God—yes—”

“Can you come like this?”

“No, I don’t think—it’s amazing, but, it’s not—”

“And you want to come?”

She couldn’t find the words. His other hand lifted her breast, closing over her nipple and pulling in the same soft, swift tugs. She was caught between two burning points of flaming pleasure, and she needed some kind of release. She didn’t even understand what was happening, in a certain way. It was incredibly, deliriously necessary.

“I have an idea,” he murmured. His fingers left her breast, but stayed on her clit, as he leaned backwards. Her hands were still bound, and she had to balance on his hip to keep from tipping over backwards. Her pussy was still pulsing, needy and hungry. She heard the sound of a drawer opening, a zipper working, and the bed shifting under his weight.

“You see,” he said, as he moved behind her, “We have a little bit of a problem. You want to come. I want you to come. But I like the angle I have right now. I like watching your nipples get tighter and sharper every time I touch you, and I like looking down, feeling your body shudder every time you get closer to coming and don’t. I like seeing all of that with you in my arms. I like you being exposed to the room, and thinking that if anyone walked in, if anyone just happened into the room, this is what they would see.”

She felt her cheeks burn hot. She’d thought of it, too, the idea that she was completely nude, spread wide open, and so utterly on display. It felt delicious and dirty and wonderful.

“So you need more to come. I don’t want to move, and quite frankly, I think you fucked me so hard in the shower and here that it’s going to be a bit before I could fuck you to satisfaction anyway, so what are we going to do?”

He gave a particularly sharp tug on her clit, and she cried out, feeling the first wave of pleasure building somewhere far away. He slowed the tugs just enough to keep her from spilling over the edge. “Not yet, baby, not yet. I have so much more planned for you.”