Fingers returned to her entrance and the invasion was deliciously forceful. At the same time, his other hand combed through her hair from root to tip with a tenderness that made her ache in a whole other way.
His assault on her * strengthened, quickened, and he devoured her mouth so thoroughly, she struggled to breathe. All she could think over and over was how much abandon she would find beneath the bruising strength, slamming fists, and punishing thrusts of a man she trusted. “I do trust you, Jay,” she gasped against his mouth. “Please.”
He broke away, panting, his body slick with sweat. “What’s your safe word?”
“What?” There was only one reason he’d need—
“Safe word. I need a safe word, Charlee.” He crawled over her leg and yanked open the drawer in the bedside table.
A release of tension shook from her muscles. Was it a release? Or was it an outpouring of fear? The kind of fear she longed for. “Huntress.”
He froze, looked over his shoulder at her. “Huntress?” His face was tight, but a smile gleamed in his eyes.
“Yeah.” She lifted a shoulder and leaned around him. “If you’re looking for a condom, you don’t need one. I get birth control shots. And I’m clean.”
In the next breath, he fisted her hair and used it to haul her bodily up the mattress to where he knelt by the headboard. Burning stings ripped across her scalp, sparking her arousal. She moaned.
He released her, eyes wide. “Oh fuck. I hurt you.”
She reached for his face, hovered her hands above the flushed skin without touching. “That’s the point.”
His eyes glazed over with a cloud of tortured debate. Jesus, she shouldn’t have asked him for this. It was selfish and cruel and could hurt him in a way he didn’t deserve to be hurt. She tugged on her hands in his clasp. “Jay, stop. This isn’t right.”
He shoved her to her back on the bed and knelt over her. “Stop isn’t your safe word. I will ignore it. Do you understand?”
The hardened look he gave her stole her voice and swept shivering pleasure down her legs. She nodded.
He shifted to the bedside table, dug in the back of the drawer, and returned with a bundle of rope. “I’ve never used this in this room. In fact, other than the staff, there’s never been a woman in this room. But I know how to use it safely.” He rubbed his nape. “And have more times than I care to point out.” He raised his eyes to hers. “Still trust me?”
She jerked her head up and down.
“I might know how to tie knots, but I’m new to this…power exchange concept.” He pinned her with a hard frown. “I trust you to use your safe word.”
“That won’t be a problem.” And it wouldn’t. A couple Doms had threatened to terminate her contract because she abused the power she had with the word.
She held out her hands, wrists together, and a thought came to her. “Are you tying me because you’re afraid the touching trigger might come back?”
He twined the rope over her wrists in a practiced pattern. “That’s part of it. We could test your hands on me like we did before, but I’m not inclined to ruin the mood if I’ve relapsed.” The corner of his mouth popped up. “We’re doing this without any hindrances. I’ve waited too goddamned long for you.”
With a yank on the rope, he tightened the knot and used it to pull her arms over her head. A tangle of excitement and apprehension flittered through her veins.
A few minutes later, he finished with the length strapped around the mattress, under the frame to the foot of the bed, and tied it to one of her ankles. She was effectively and unnervingly restrained.
She wondered how disgusting she looked trussed up like that until he knelt between her thighs and scanned his work.
“My God.” The look on his handsome face transformed. His jaw sharpened, his sensuous lips seemed to swell as they opened, and his breathing became more erratic. “I’ve never been so weak with want.”
The affection in his eyes drained away, replaced by something primitive and stern. She could feel the change in his body, too, as he spread over her, hard-packed and heavy, and jerking in stiff, hasty movements.
She bucked uselessly against the binds as he drew the head of his erection up and down through her sopping folds. His weight pressed her body into the bed and his mouth fed on hers, one manic kiss after another. His control was slipping, his mouth moving in earnest, clumsy caresses.
Because he wanted her. Not as a possession to own. Not as a paying client. He wanted her. A sense of power swept through her, at odds with the vulnerability of her bound body.
He dropped his brow to hers and gripped the inside of her thigh. “I’m going to fuck you now.” His words raised the hair on her neck, and he buried himself in one piercing thrust.
53
Warm. Slippery. Comforting. Better than any fantasy Jay had ever conjured. He felt every clench and pull of Charlee’s narrow passage. He fucking felt her.