When he returned to her mouth, his lips firm and smooth, she threaded her hands through his hair and pulled him down, thrusting her tongue between his lips. She wanted more. Hard. Sensation. Obliteration.
“Ah ah ah.” Holt pulled back. “You don’t get to be in control, darlin’. This is about me making you feel good.” He sat back and smoothed his hands up her forearms to her wrists. “Should I restrain you? Tie these pretty wrists together so you can’t try to run the show?”
Her pulse kicked up a notch and she shook her head violently, unable to voice her fear.
His face softened. “How about you fold your arms under your head and give me a promise not to move them no matter what I do?”
She bit her lip, considering. No restraints. Her legs were free and her hands if she chose to use them. And she’d let men touch her before, although only where she told them. “I promise.” She folded her arms and tucked her hands behind her head.
The lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled and his gaze heated. “You’re beautiful, darlin’. When I was down in that dungeon I thought I’d never touch a woman again, tried to remember what it was like. But you are more than I ever imagined. I’m gonna take my sweet time enjoying your body, and you’re just gonna lie there for me and feel good.”
His hand covered her breast, his fingers circling her nipples one at a time until they were hard and peaked. She arched into his touch, needing more.
Holt didn’t oblige.
Instead, he twisted her nipples, squeezing hard. Naiya gasped as a stab of excitement shot down her body, straight to her core.
“She likes that,” he murmured, half to himself. He alternated between breasts, cupping and squeezing the soft flesh, then pinching her nipples until her pussy throbbed and she had to thread her fingers together behind her head to keep her promise.
“Should I keep going?” Satisfaction glimmered in his eyes, and Naiya nodded. She didn’t just want him to keep going. She wanted him never to stop.
Holt leaned over and closed his lips around one swollen nipple, swirling his tongue around the peak. Heat sizzled through her veins, and she could feel herself get wetter. He sucked her nipple deep and then nipped with just enough pressure that she let out a low groan.
Naiya stiffened. That groan was real, not faked. For a minute there she’d lost control. Just like she’d lost control with Viper when he’d made her …
Holt drew back, his sharp eyes on her face. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She unlocked her fingers, and then forced them together again, remembering her promise. “But maybe I should look after you. This must be hard for you after so long.”
He stroked her cheek. “After so long, I want to take my time, and nothing gets me off like the sexy noises you make when you’re enjoying what I’m doing to you.”
Enjoy?
She endured sex for the few moments of intimacy that came after; the feeling of being held, imagining she was safe and no one could ever touch her. Sex was a price to be paid.
Holt slid his hand between her legs, dipped a finger into her wet, slick center, and then wiped his finger along the inside of her leg. Although she knew she should be horrified, she found his actions incredibly erotic.
“You were enjoying yourself.”
Hard to deny it with her wetness glistening on her thigh. “Yes.”
“Then let me keep going. I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”
Her body wanted more, even though her mind was balking at the thought of giving up more control. Holt wasn’t like any of the bikers who had come to their apartment to give her mom drugs in exchange for sex; or the bikers at the Black Jack clubhouse who would take the first sweet butt they saw when the need struck; or Viper who just took. But what if he was? What if this was all an act, and the minute she let down her guard…?
And what if he was for real? Maybe the Sinners weren’t all like the Jacks.
As if he could read her thoughts, he gave her a reassuring smile. “I got a lot of anger in me,” he said softly. “Always have, although nothing like I got now. Sometimes I’m afraid it will consume me. But when I’m with you, it … just … fades. I’ll never hurt you. Never push you farther than you want to go. You’re safe with me. You got my word on that.”
Safe.
It was the one thing she had always craved. The word she needed to hear to let herself go.
His mouth covered hers again, and her anxiety faded. He tasted sweet and faintly of … what she could have sworn was lipstick.
Before she could ask, his hand settled on her stomach, then trailed over her hips. He eased down the bed and feathered kisses along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.
“Open for me, darlin’.”
The low rumble of his voice rippled through her, and she did as he asked. Holt stroked a finger through her folds, a barely there touch that had her angling her hips for more.
Holt chuckled. “You’re so wet, but I think we can make you wetter.” His finger circled her clit, up and around, but never touching, and then through her folds until her pussy felt swollen, aching for release.
God, he was nothing like the bikers she’d watched at the Black Jack clubhouse as she hid with the other club brats, learning the facts of life too early and in the most brutal way. Until Ally had set her up with regular guys, she had assumed sex was about taking, the focus on the man’s pleasure, the woman a means to an end and nothing more. Even after she’d started dating, it wasn’t hard to push men into that mold, forgo her own pleasure to get it over and done.
He leaned down and licked her clit, every so lightly, his tongue warm and wet. She jerked at the exquisite sensation, and Holt placed his hands over her hips holding her down. “Don’t think about going anywhere. Not until I’m done.”
His tongue slid down through her wet heat and back up again, circled her clit, stroking, lapping, so soft … relentless. Tension coiled inside her with every lick, her body tightening. A flush rose in her cheeks, but when she bucked against him, he held her still, his control giving her more assurance than fear. He slid his fingers along her folds, stroked along the sides of the little nub, and then pushed inside.
She sucked in a breath at the sensation of rough skin sliding over sensitive, swollen tissue. Fisting her hands behind her head, she dug her heels into the bed as he stroked in and out, driving her higher and higher.
Holt added a second finger, pumping them slowly as his tongue flicked over her clit, and she gave up on worrying about who he was or what he was doing, how she was reacting, or her need for control. Instead, she let go, gave herself over to his soft tongue and his gentle fingers and the damn relentless drive of her body toward release.
Holt hummed his approval, increasing his pace, alternating his fingers and tongue. Every sensation coalesced into one hot, urgent ball of need, her nerve endings raw and waiting. Another lick. Another slide. Her inner muscles contracted around him; her fingers dug painfully into her scalp. She angled her hips, arched into his mouth, taking what he offered. Wanting more.
“There she is,” he whispered, and then his rough tongue slid directly over her clit.
Her ecstasy released like an arrow, shooting white-hot lightening through her in relentless spasms of blissful heat. She loosened her hands and threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him still as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her body. He licked again, thrust again, drawing out her orgasm until she sank into the bed, her body limp and languid beneath him.
“I never … no one ever…” Her bottom lip quivered.
“Another first.” He gave her a warm smile. “And not the last. I’m not done with you, darlin’, unless you want to stop.”
She liked that he didn’t assume. That he kept asking if she wanted to keep going even though he was very clearly aroused. That he offered instead of taking. She wanted to give something back, not to get it over with, but because she wanted him, wanted to give him the kind of pleasure he’d given her. But more than that, she wanted to feel close to him. Intimate. Even naked, exposed, and emotionally raw, she felt safe with Holt.
“I don’t want to stop. I want you.”
He stroked her hair back from her face, and gently pulled her to sit. “Might need some help off with the clothes.”
“Of course.” She pushed herself up and slid her hands under his shirt, carefully pushed it up over his chest, avoiding the bandages. Although his injuries were healing, the marks of his ordeal were still clearly visible on his skin. On impulse, Naiya leaned close and pressed her lips over one of his scars.
Holt drew in a deep breath, and his hand slid through her hair. “Something to remember him by.”
“Like me.”
His jaw tightened, and his hand fisted her hair. “I’m gonna give you good memories so that when Viper and I are both gone, all you’ll remember is the feel of my lips on your skin.”
Emotion welled up in her throat at the brutal reminder that the path he’d chosen to follow didn’t include her. And although he’d never been anything but clear about where he was headed, she knew in her heart, she didn’t want to let him go.
Steeling herself, she pushed his shirt up, and kneeled on the bed to tug it over his head. Despite his ordeal, he was still well muscled albeit thin, his shoulders broad, and his biceps thick. She slid her hands down his torso, over the cuts of his obliques to his narrow waist and tugged open his belt.
“Where did you get these clothes? You smell of cheap perfume.”
“Pimp.” He stilled, and Naiya looked up for more explanation, but the firm line of his jaw told her it wouldn’t be forthcoming.
“Oh.” She didn’t want to think about the pimp who had given Holt the clothes or the kind of women Holt would have encountered during that meeting. She didn’t want to think about his comments in the bar or how he knew the cost of a blowjob in Missoula. Just like she hadn’t wanted to think about why Maurice stopped coming to her place every night or why he suddenly thought his place was too small for them both to hang out or why he sometimes smelled of perfume. Willful blindness was sometimes a blessing in disguise.
“I saved a young girl who was walking the streets,” he said into the silence. “Took out her pimp, gave her some money, and sent her to find a cop I know here in Conundrum so he could take her to the Sinners for help.”
“More killing,” she said, heart sore.
“That’s the world I live in.” He cupped her jaw in his hand. “The pimp was a piece of shit who’d forced her into prostitution when he found her on the street. The world is a better place without him in it.”
Naiya sat back on her heels. “Did you … and the girl…?”
“No.”
She breathed out a relieved sigh. “It’s not like I was jealous or anything. It’s just a … safety concern.”
Holt chuckled. “You were jealous. You want me all to yourself.” He cupped the bulge in his jeans and gave it a squeeze. “I don’t blame you, darlin’.”
Naiya snorted in derision. “I see nothing is wrong with your ego.”
“Nothing is wrong with any part of me.” He lifted her hand to his fly. “But let’s test it out to make sure.”
Without hesitation, Naiya ripped open his jeans and eased his clothing over his hips. His cock, thick and hard, bounced gently in her direction. Holt’s hand found her head and he gripped her hard.
Sensing his need, she shoved his clothing down, pushing his jeans carefully over the bandages on his ankles, injured by the cuffs Viper had used to tether him on the wall.
“Now I have you naked and available for my pleasure,” she teased to hide her dismay at the damage Viper had done to his beautiful body. Scars, slashes, bruises, and cuts marred almost every inch of his skin.
“Endless pleasure coming your way. But we need a condom.” He left her on the bed and walked across the room to the dark, lacquered dining table near the window where he’d dumped one of the bags. Naiya took in his lean, muscular body, and his perfect ass. He was breathtaking now. How had he looked before Viper got his hands on him?
“Come over here, beautiful girl.” He ripped open the condom with his teeth and sheathed himself. “I got a need to see you laid out on this table so I can fuck you overlooking Conundrum.”
“Is that supposed to turn me on?” She slid off the bed and walked toward him, swallowing back all the small dissatisfactions with her body as he drank her in with his heated gaze.
“You’re already turned on. I can see your wet pussy from where I’m standing.”
Her cheeks flamed, and she scrambled to find something to say to cover her embarrassment. “Did you get the condoms from the pimp, too?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “They were in the bag of clothes Ally left for us. I thought you’d asked for them.”
“Me?” She stared at him aghast. “I wouldn’t assume…”
“Ally did.” He pulled her into his chest, his erection pressed hard against her stomach, his body hot against hers. Naiya ground her hips against him, and Holt groaned.
“Don’t think I can take much more, darlin’. I’ve been wanting you, seems like forever.” He slid his hands beneath her ass and lifted her so his cock was poised at her entrance.
“Yes?”
There it was again. Asking. Not taking. What would he do if she said no? His cock was thick and hard, swollen with arousal. Was there a point at which a man could be pushed too far? When he wouldn’t be able to stop?
As if he could read her thoughts, he brushed his lips over her cheek. “Whatever you want. However long you want to take.”
Maybe another man wouldn’t be able to stop, but Holt was different. She trusted that he would, and that trust gave her the courage to go on. Gritting her teeth, she braced her arms on his shoulders and lowered herself down.
“Christ.” His hands tightened on her ass, the cords in his neck straining. “Oh Jesus. Fuck. Naiya, darlin’, you feel damn good.”
Not as good as the feeling of his thick, hard cock pushing through her swollen tissue. Her breath hitched, and she levered herself up, then eased back down. Up and down, with Holt’s hands firm around her, his eyes blazing with sensual passion.
Her clit throbbed, and she increased the pace. Holt’s biceps strained, and his hips rocked, meeting her rhythm, but it wasn’t enough. Not hard enough or deep enough. She wanted to feel his power, his passion. She wanted him to be in control.