Committed (32 page)

“Don’t come,” he said yet again.

“Then stop.” She swiveled her hips, trying to get away, but the bar kept her relatively immobile. Her face creased and she bit her lip.

He wanted to yank the vibe out and fuck her until she screamed, but it was too soon. There was so much more to do before he found release in her body. He rested his cheek against hers and listened to her breathing. This close he could feel her heart pounding, the hitch of her breath, her accelerated breathing, and the little, helpless noises she tried to muffle. It was as if he felt each invasion of the vibrator himself, through her.

She wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Oh!” Her muscles rippled and her breathing shuddered. Her hips moved back and forth against his hand, grinding her pelvis against him.

Damien kept up the pace, his other hand against her back, soaking up the energy.

“You came, didn’t you?” he whispered.

“Yes, stop already, yes. I couldn’t help it.” She pushed at his shoulder, but didn’t have
the strength to move him.

“What did I tell you?” Damien withdrew his hand, shaking his head and tsk-tsking.

“Not to come.” She glared at him, but the effect was diminished by her wanton gaze. Every few seconds a tremor shook her body. No doubt the vibrator was still working on her.

“Exactly, and you came, so now I have to punish you.”

Damien grabbed the leather ottoman and pulled it across the floor until it was in front of Poppy.

“Bend over and put your hands on that.” He kept a hand on her to steady her as she obeyed. “You have to count.”

He rubbed his hand over her ass. The cane marks stood out against her pale skin, not too much, but enough that she would be reminded of him for a day or two as she sat. Her knees buckled as the song changed to something fast, with a driving beat.

Damien pulled his belt from around his waist and snapped the leather in half. She jumped, but only slightly. He grinned and gently popped one cheek with the doubled-over leather.

“One,” she said with force.

He repeated the same soft blow to her other side.

“Two.” Her body relaxed, lulled into a false sense of relief.

Damien put some muscle behind his next swing.

“Three! Four. Five. Six. Seven! Oh my God.” She rocked forward, her knuckles white against the leather.

He dropped the belt and smoothed his hands over her heated skin, assuring himself she was okay. Poppy might be a small, delicate woman, but he was becoming acquainted with her strength, both of body and of character.

The ropes stretched tight over her hips, keeping the vibrator in place better than he’d expected.

Damien drew back his hand and slapped her thighs, his thumb hitting the end of the vibrator with each blow.

“Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.” She bounced on her toes and bent her knees, but he didn’t allow her to dissuade him from the task, which was administering sweet torture.

“You like that?” He patted the end of the vibrator.

“No. No. No!” She wailed and almost collapsed forward, but he caught her, holding her weight with one arm while he continued to torment her pussy.

“Don’t come. You don’t want to know what your punishment will be if you come.”

“I can’t help it. I’m going to.” Her voice broke, with a dry sob.

“Don’t do it.” He knew she had to be close to her limit, but he didn’t give up. Instead he unknotted the hip harness and used his hand freely with the vibe, pulling it out and thrusting it back in.

Fuck, this could be him. He ached to be inside of her. To feel her tight pussy hugging him as he fucked her, to hold her as she came apart and whispered his name. She shook in his hands, almost as if the toy had consumed her and now vibrated with her whole body. He breathed in time with her, his awareness sharpened by the shared energy between them. He felt every hitch of her breath, even the pounding of her heart, as if it were his own.

Poppy threw her head back and screamed. Her body undulated helplessly through another orgasm. He shut his eyes against the sight and focused on the way she felt in his hands, and how the connection between them sang. She sagged against him, no doubt spent. But he wasn’t done with her yet.

Damien unfastened the spreader bar and helped her lay on her back on the ottoman. He pressed her thighs close together to keep the vibrator in place. She wasn’t off the hook yet. Her body shook with post-orgasmic tremors, or maybe she was still going. It wasn’t like he’d given her a moment to recuperate.

It was time to make good on one promise.

He released the tab on his pants and pushed both his underwear and slacks down. Poppy watched him from half-hooded eyes. The ropes on her breasts had slid off, but the swirl pattern remained pressed into her skin.

“What did I tell you on the way over here?” he asked. His cock ached for her, but his hand would have to do. He stroked himself and her gaze tracked the path of his palm.

“You said you’d fuck my breasts.” She palmed her chest, but he didn’t think it was a purposeful gesture.

“And I’m going to. Do you know why I’m going to fuck your tits and not your pussy?”

“Because I came when I wasn’t supposed to?”

“Exactly.”

He straddled her and she didn’t hesitate. She grasped his cock, stroking it. She propped herself up and took him in her mouth, working him in and out a few times before releasing him. She lay back down and he shook off the momentary haze of lust.

“Push ’em together.”

Poppy encased his cock in her breasts and he began to thrust, pumping through her grasp. The head of his cock hit her chin and she chuckled. On the next pass she kissed the crown. Her lower body undulated beneath him, while she smiled.

He pinched the hard nubs of her nipples and she gasped, her spine bowing toward him. The tendons on the side of her neck stood out as she froze in a silent shout.

Had she just come again?

Fuck this.

Damien stood and pulled the vibrator out of her pussy. She lay boneless on the ottoman, but they weren’t done yet. He retrieved a condom from his bag and rolled it on.

He pulled her to her feet and lifted her, carrying her backward until he had her pinned between him and the wall. She wrapped her legs around him and he thrust up into her, sliding deep the first time. She moaned and dug her nails into his shoulders.

Damien knew he was a big man. He had to have tight control when it came to his partners, but Poppy drove him. With her he had a one-track mind. He had to slow down or he might scare her with his desire. He flexed his hips and buried his face in her hair. Tendrils had come loose from her braid and he twined one around his finger.

“Damien,” she moaned.

He ignored her plea. She was too lost to subspace. One look at her lust-driven face and he’d see what he wanted to see there.

“Sir.” Her nails scored his shoulders, leaving deep marks. He groaned and his eyes grew unfocused for a moment. “Fuck me already, please.”

Damien had to move before his muscles locked into place. He withdrew and slid back in,
gritting his teeth against the desire to go faster, harder.

“Enough with the slow shit. Fuck me.” Her green eyes blazed.

“You want me to really fuck you?” He leaned in until her head was pressed against the wall.

“Yes. Yes. Yes!”

Damien jerked back and slammed so deep his balls slapped her ass. “Like that?”

“Fuck. Yes.” She dug her fingers in and bit her lip, eyes partially closed.

He held her firmly in his hands and moved in and out of her body like a piston, watching the play of desire across her features. How she would gasp when the head of his cock kissed her entrance, and moan when he thrust deep. They beat out a rhythm against the wall as he fucked her hard. She tried to move with him, but was so far gone that she didn’t seem to be able to form words any longer. Helpless noises escaped her lips, rising in ecstasy. But her body knew him.

She arched and moaned on a long exhale, her head tossed back.

I love you
.

Damien pressed his mouth to hers.

Orgasm rolled up through him, obliterating his strength, shaking his soul, and emptying his body. She clung to his shoulders, moaning her release and milking his, drawing it out longer, making it more intense than he’d ever experienced.

For several moments he kept his head buried in the crook of her neck, not moving, or even daring to speak, for the words on the tip of his tongue could never be taken back or explained away.

I love you, and it scares me
.

Matías parked his borrowed car at the end of the street, between a minivan and a truck. The older-model vehicle blended in with his surroundings, and the dark of night hid his presence.

He glanced up and down the road, but all the houses were quiet, families tucked away for the night. Everyone was safe under their roofs.

There was a time when Matías had dreamed of having a house like these, and a family to fill it, but his all-consuming obsession with the Valdez cartel had made him pay a high price. He wasn’t marriage material. Not anymore. No woman wanted a man with his baggage. Half the time he didn’t even know who he was. Was he the special agent or the drug tough? Some days he didn’t know anymore.

He eased his seat back, reclining until it was comfortable.

Matías’s future might be a story already written. He’d spend the rest of his days serving law enforcement in one way or another, alone. But not everyone had to. Damien had a chance at something better, and Matías hoped the man held tight to the promise of a better future, a future Matías wanted to ensure happened.

Damien didn’t know it, but Matías had shadowed him several times in the last few weeks, since they’d teamed up. The man made himself a large target, one Matías didn’t think Emilio would pass up. Except that when Emilio came calling, Matías would be there.

Poppy rested her head against Damien’s shoulder, her body so thoroughly used that even breathing was tiring.

“You need to drink something, sweetness.” Damien pressed a cup to her lips and tipped it up.

She could either drink or drown. She found the strength from somewhere to swallow the liquid he poured into her mouth.

Damien kissed her brow and smoothed her hair back. They were little gestures, and he made them often, but each time it tugged at her heart. She knew he’d carried her from the play room, and she had an impression of a dark, open space that had to be his bedroom, but she couldn’t muster the strength to care. All she knew was that she was wrapped in a soft blanket, and held tight on his lap. That was all that mattered. If she could have crawled inside him to be closer, she would have, but this would certainly do.

“Do you want to wash up before going to bed?” he asked.

“Hmm.” She shrugged.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His chuckle was a deep rumble against her ear.

She shrugged again. “Hmm.”

“You are something else.”

“What?” she mumbled.

Damien kissed her brow, his lips lingering against her skin as he tugged a tendril of her hair. “You’re, like, a Disney princess on kink-crack. It’s kind of cute.”

Poppy lifted her too-heavy head and stared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re adorable.”

Adorable wasn’t always a great word. Men weren’t attracted to adorable, were they? It hadn’t worked out so great for her in the past.

“Why don’t you get into the shower? I’m going to make sure everything is picked up
downstairs and grab a little snack. Then I’ll join you. How’s that sound?”

“Okay.” She unfolded her legs and he helped her to stand while she clutched the blanket around her. He even guided her into the master bath. “Holy shit.”

Poppy stopped and stared at the gargantuan en suite bath. It was more like a spa. There was a Damien-sized tub, a glass shower so big she didn’t think she could touch two sides at once, and even a separate toilet closet with a pocket door.

“Hey, women like their closets, I like my showers.”

She peeked into the toilet closet. “And this?”

“Oh, come on. You’ve never let one loose before a shower and wished you could be in another bathroom taking a shower?” He turned the tap on in the shower, but she didn’t miss the sheepish grin.

Poppy met him outside the shower and leaned against his chest. He tapped her nose and his grin took on another light, one she couldn’t quite read, but it made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. The butterflies were still there, but swaddled in his presence, it was hard to feel anything except contentment.

“I’ll be back.” He planted a sweet kiss on her lips and tugged the blanket from her hands, leaving her naked once more.

“I’ll be waiting.” She entered the shower stall, which was more like a shower room, and listened to his retreating footsteps.

What am I doing?

Poppy stepped under the showerheads and let the water wash away the sweat clinging to her body. Her limbs were so rubbery, she didn’t have the energy to lift her hands and soap her hair.

There was a real risk she was in love with Damien already. Somehow, it had begun before she could stop it. Whenever he was around she turned to putty, her only desire to please him.

Was that so bad?

Was she losing herself to him?

Or was she, as Nikki put it, evolving?

When she was with Damien, it didn’t feel wrong. Everything about their chemistry, the way he made her laugh, all of it was right. Better than right. Perfect. He made her feel cherished and loved, which was all she’d ever wanted. But could she handle playing fifth fiddle to the rest of his life?

She didn’t know the answer to that question.

Damien’s chuckle echoed in the bathroom. “Are you just going to stand there? I don’t think that’s going to do you any good.”

“Why not? It would be so much more convenient if I could just stand here and let a mechanical arm wash my hair for me. Is my bag out there? I have shower stuff in there.”

“It’s right here. May I dig it out?”

“Side pocket. No digging required.”

Damien was a dark figure through the fogged glass. His presence alone calmed her thoughts and brought a smile to her face. She wasn’t fifth fiddle, but she wasn’t first, either.