Tie Me Down: A Loveswept Contemporary Erotic Romance (11 page)

When it was over, when he could think again, he sank gracelessly onto the bed and pulled Genevieve down beside him. He was hot, sweaty. His knees were weak and he was shaking so badly he could barely hold on to her.

He looked down and saw her watching him with such tenderness, he was overwhelmed with emotion. Lying there, looking at him, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her lips were glistening; her cheeks flushed. And her eyes were a bright, shining electric blue—so bright he felt sure she could see all the way to his soul.

The thought should have worried him, should have made him uncomfortable at the very least, considering what he was hiding. Instead, it relaxed him as nothing had in seven long years.

Reaching out, he stroked her tousled curls away from her forehead. Laughed as they wound their way around his fingers. Breathed deeply and inhaled the honeysuckle scent of her into his lungs.

How had he gotten here, to this precise moment? Held tenderly in the arms of this strong, sexy woman?

He didn’t know, couldn’t fathom how things could have gone so wrong. Or so right. Unsure of what he was doing for the first time in a very long time, he held on tightly to Genevieve. And wondered where on earth they could go from here.

Shrugging into her robe, Genevieve stumbled to the kitchen in a stupor, drawn there by the tantalizing aroma of ready-made coffee. Her brain was foggy, her body sore, her libido temporarily sated.

Thank God. How many times had she come last night anyway? Far, far too many to count. It was a miracle Cole hadn’t killed her.

Maybe she should have been embarrassed after her meltdown, but Cole had held her so tenderly through it that she didn’t regret letting him see her vulnerabilities. And what had happened afterward, when he’d let her take him—in her mouth and in her body—had been worth any of the uncertainties that had come before.

“There you are. I was about to wake you.” He skirted the table, handed her a cup of coffee. “What time do you have to be at work?”

“It’s my day off.” She lifted the cup to her nose, breathed in the life-giving aroma before taking a big sip. It was so delicious she didn’t even care that she’d have second-degree burns on her tongue. “You make a hell of a cup of coffee, you know that?”

He snorted. “Don’t take offense if I don’t hold your opinion in the highest regard. You’ve been drinking cop coffee for so long, I’d be amazed if you had any taste buds left.”

“I’ve got enough.”

“Sure you do.” He nodded to the bag on the counter. “I got breakfast, too.”

“Well, aren’t you just all domestic this morning.” She took another sip of coffee, relished the burn as it slid down her sleep-scratchy throat.

“Good sex will do that to a guy.”

She lifted an eyebrow, looked him up and down. “
Good
sex?”

He grinned. “Fabulous sex. Amazing sex. Astounding sex.”

“Yeah, that’s more like it.”

Cole grabbed the butter and strawberry jam from the fridge and then settled himself at the kitchen table. In her chair. Which she wasn’t nearly as annoyed about as
she should have been, but then again, mind-blowing sex could do that to a girl, she thought with a grin.

She watched as he pulled two huge croissants out of the bag, felt her knees turn trembly at the sight. It was really hard to play it cool with a guy who knew all your weaknesses before you even told him, knew them and took care to deliver them to you one after the other.

“How’d you know croissants were my favorite?” she demanded.

He shot her a wicked grin, then licked strawberry jam off his thumb. “Because they’re my favorite too.”

“I bet. You know,” she said, studying him closely over her half-empty cup. “You’re awfully domesticated for a big, bad Hollywood type.”

His only response was an eye roll, but she’d seen him stiffen. That telltale discomfort had her pushing harder than she might have otherwise. “So did some woman train you to be so thoughtful? A wife? Girlfriend?”

“My mother.” His voice was rock steady, but she would have had to be blind to miss the way his hand shook. “I used to have to take care of my half sister—feed her, keep her safe and happy, that kind of thing.”

“You must be close to your family.”

His eyes turned unreadable in an instant, his jaw clenching so hard she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d broken a tooth. “Not so much anymore.”

The tone of his voice made it obvious the subject was closed, and part of her resented his need for privacy. He’d stripped her bare last night, had ripped away every protection she had, yet he balked at answering a few basic questions about his life. It pissed her off, had her wanting to push back just to see if she had the power to make him crack.

But before she could decide from which direction she should push, Cole reached a hand out to her and she took it without knowing why. She should have ignored it, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. For just a moment he’d looked vulnerable, his pain so real that it took her breath away.

She wanted to ask him about the pictures, to demand an explanation for what she’d seen. But she wasn’t ready to go down that road yet. Once she did, she knew the
intimacy between them would disappear like it had never been and she wanted—needed—just a few more minutes of it before all hell broke loose. It had been so long since she’d felt this close to another person that she couldn’t bring herself to ruin it. Not yet.

When he tugged, she didn’t resist, and suddenly she was straddling his lap without being sure how she’d gotten there. Without knowing how she felt about it.

“Open up.” She obliged, and he fed her a piece of croissant dripping with jam. She closed her eyes as the sweetness hit her tongue, took her time savoring the rare treat.

“What about you?” he asked.

“What about me?”

“Are you close to your family?”

Opening her eyes abruptly, she found him staring at her, his gaze heavy lidded, his eyes even darker than usual. Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt herself grow wet when minutes before she would have sworn sex was the last thing on her mind.

“I’m an only child,” she murmured, struggling to hold on to the conversation. “My parents died in a car crash years ago. Drunk driver.”

He stiffened, and the hand on her back turned from sexual to soothing. “I’m sorry—that’s terrible.”

She shrugged, gave the flip answer she’d been using for years—the one designed to hide her loneliness from the world. “Yeah, well, shit happens. Right?”

“I guess.” He paused long enough to make her nervous, then asked, “So is that why you became a cop?”

“I became a cop because there are too many assholes in the world and someone needs to do something about it.”

He laughed. “That’s the same reason I became a filmmaker.”

“I bet.”

“No, really,” he said as he leaned forward, dropping kisses along the curve of her neck until she relaxed. “So, what are you going to do with your day off?”

She laughed, surprised at how husky the sound was. “Not you.” She shoved at his chest. “I’ve got to work.”

He pulled back, looked at her quizzically. “I thought you said you didn’t have to
work today.”

“No, I said it was my day off.” She climbed off his lap. “But some psychopath is killing girls on my watch—I can’t just kick back and relax while he does it.”

“When you put it that way, I guess you can’t.”

“You guess correctly.” She tore off another piece of croissant, popped it into her mouth. “But thanks for breakfast. It was great.”

He let her get as far as the doorway before he grabbed a handful of hair and dragged her back against him. “You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?” He licked a path up the nape of her neck, smiled as Genevieve shivered and pressed her hips back against his cock.

“I was certainly hoping it wouldn’t be.”

“That’s my girl.” He walked her over to the kitchen table, bent her over the chair he had just vacated. Slid a hand under her robe to caress the slick, wet folds of her sex. “Are you sore?” he asked as he slipped a finger inside of her, loving how wet and hot she already was.

“Not too sore, if that’s what you’re asking.” She braced her hands on the nearby table, spreading her legs to give him better access.

“That’s exactly what I’m asking.” He slid another finger inside her, groaned when she clenched around him. Felt sweat drip down his back as he fought for control. Fuck, she really was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

Genevieve moved restlessly against him, seeking a deeper penetration. But he kept his touch light, almost playful. Pulled out and stroked a gentle finger over her clit.

“Cole.” It was a complaint. A demand. But he merely laughed and brought his second hand up to deliver a sharp smack on her curvy ass.

She jumped, cried out. Turned her head with eyes wide in shock. “What are you doing?”

His only answer was to do it again, this time thrusting two fingers inside of her, hard, as he did so.

She gasped and arched her back, clutching the edge of the table as if she didn’t trust her knees to hold her. As she did, his fingers slid deeper, changed angles and rubbed against the sweet spot deep inside of her.

She moaned, her body running like honey around him. She was so responsive it blew him away, so hot that he burned with the need to see just how fast he could send her up and over.

He pulled his fingers out, pinched her clit between his thumb and middle finger. Delivered another, sharper slap to her sweet ass while at the same time tapping her clit with his index finger.

She jerked against him, screaming, her fingers reaching back to grab his cock through the thick material of his jeans. He groaned, thrust against her though he knew better. His dick was on fire, burning for her, and her unexpected touch had taken him all the way to the jagged edge of his control.

She laughed, low and mean, as her fingers worked his zipper down. His cock leapt from between the parted denim and she palmed him, rubbing while he thrust helplessly against her soft hand.

Shit. He was as ready to go off as a sixteen-year-old with his first girl. How could she do this to him so easily? Make him lose control when he’d always prided himself on his staying power?

He pulled away in self-defense, then smacked her harder than he had before. Waited to see how she would react. When all she did was wiggle that luscious ass of hers and press more firmly against him, he swore he’d found heaven.

Fumbling in the back pocket of his jeans, he grabbed a condom. Tore it open with his teeth. Rolled it on in a fever of need. Then sank into her waiting heat with a shudder of relief.

Genevieve came at the first thrust of Cole’s cock inside of her. How he’d gotten her so hot so quick, she didn’t know, but each tap of his hand on her ass had sent heat shooting through her like fireworks.

She’d wanted to protest on general principle, but it had felt so damn good that she’d kept her mouth shut and let him have his way. That last smack had driven her to the edge, and the utter joy of having him within her again had taken her right over.

Then he was pulling out, robbing her of the last sweet waves of her orgasm. She pressed back, tried to take him again, and he laughed darkly. Then pushed himself inside her, one slow inch at a time.

She shuddered, tried to move back so she could take all of him, but he stopped her with a steady hand on the small of her back. Held her in place so that her screaming nerve endings felt every inch of his invasion.

And it was an invasion, a slow, deliberate conquering that she recognized even through the incredible pleasure. Cole laying claim, establishing dominance, challenging her to deny his possession.

It was the last that had her bucking beneath him, smiling in triumph as she dislodged him.

“Genevieve.” His voice was low, warning, as he brought both hands to her hips and pulled her sharply against him until he was as deep inside of her as he could go.

Her muscles clenched involuntarily around him, her body in thrall to his mastery even as her mind rebelled at the limits he set for her. For them. Twisting her hips, she slid away from him again, shimmied until he’d once more slipped from her body.

One hand came down in a sharp crack against the bare skin of her bottom while the other tangled in her hair. He leaned forward until he covered her, until her breasts were pushed tightly against the unforgiving surface of the table and her back was wedged just as tightly against his heavily muscled chest.

“Take me,” he demanded, his voice low and harsh in her ear. “Take me now.”

He slammed into her so hard she rocketed up onto her tiptoes. Then he was pulling out and slamming into her again and again. He was wild, out of control. She’d challenged him, defied him, pushed him past his limits until the only drive he had was to mark her. To dominate her. To show her who had the upper hand.

And it was delicious, every thrust a shocking invasion. Every slam of his cock a test of her own limits as unimaginable pleasure rocketed through her.

He was moving quickly now, each thrust fast and hard. She closed her eyes, clutched the table, tried to center herself in the maelstrom she’d released. But there was no escape, no control, no salvation. Only Cole and the wicked, inescapable, unbelievable things he was doing to her.

The pleasure rose, tingled, burned, spreading from her cunt to her stomach, up through her breasts, down her arms and legs until no part of her body was unaffected. Until all that she felt, all that she was, was wrapped up in Cole and this unbelievable
moment out of time.

Another orgasm rose, sharp and undeniable, yet she tried to push it back. She didn’t want this to end, wasn’t ready to let this perfect moment slip away.

But Cole’s fingers were clenching in her hair, scratching down the delicate skin of her back while his breath shuddered in and out. He was on the edge, holding on through sheer will alone, waiting for his release until he’d sent her careening into her own climax.

It was cruel to make him wait when staving off her own release was nearly killing her. But she shoved the heat down for a few more seconds, reveled in Cole’s brutal pounding, in the agony and ecstasy that came with being possessed by this man.