Only for the Night (If Only Book 2) (24 page)

Her nonanswer seemed to be plenty for Hank. “That’s what I thought. You’d just lost your mother, the only family you had left, and your boyfriend wasn’t helping you. You couldn’t talk it out, couldn’t work through things in a healthy way, couldn’t get what you needed, and when you pushed harder, he refused to recognize your cry for help. Is that about right?”

Those books he’d been reading, the ones V. had recommended, were teaching him a helluva lot. She managed a little nod against his chest.

“Bastard.”

A laugh took her completely by surprise.

Hank nudged her chin up and captured the sound with his lips. Need was swift and sharp, urging her to open to him immediately, gratefully, no hesitation, no holding back, just surrender to the push of Hank’s tongue. His kiss commanded her even better than his words, telling her she had nothing to be ashamed of, reminding her that she wasn’t broken, singing to her of the desire surging between them. It was the taste of perfection, and it healed her in ways the past few months away from her old life had yet to do.

When he finally released her, all Sage could do was blink up at him. “What were we talking about?”

Hank traced a finger along her bottom lip, spreading the moisture from their kiss, staring into her eyes as if he was putting the pieces of a puzzle together. “That’s what submission does for you, doesn’t it? Helps you shut everything off.”

Sage nodded. “That’s not the only benefit, but…yes.”

“Hmm.” Hank considered that for a few minutes. She was content to rest in the security of his arms and wait. “Like a workout,” he finally said. “It’s the same way I feel onstage. In that moment everything else fades away, and after it’s all over and I come down from the high, things feel just a little smaller and easier to handle than they were before.”

Sage knew her mouth was open; she couldn’t help it. In a few short minutes he’d understood something it had taken her a very long time to understand. Any latent fears about giving herself over to this man dissolved in that moment—Hank might think he couldn’t do this, but he could. Any man who understood her that well could easily give her what she needed.

“That’s why you have to talk to me, Sage.” His quiet words were accompanied by the stroke of his hand from her mouth to her jaw, then into her hair, where it tightened. Her eyelids fluttered down in response, but she forced them back open. “I never want you to feel like he made you feel. I
will
give you what you need, but you have to help me discover what those needs are.”

This time she didn’t wait for him; she simply raised her head, glorying in the pull on her scalp, and kissed him. The throaty growl Hank rewarded her with, the surge of his tongue into her mouth—God, it was good.

Hank finally pulled away, though he kept his grip on her hair. “Hungry?”

“Not really.” She would probably be content to stay here all night, in fact.

But Hank pushed her to her feet. “Good. Let’s go for a swim.”

“Go where?”

Hank merely smiled that wicked smile and shooed her inside.

“Well…okay.” Swimming it was.

He’d had this planned even before she came home; she knew that somehow. And it was just what she needed. That didn’t surprise her either. The drive down the coast, top down on the Jeep, helped blow away the cobwebs of the past couple of hours, days. By the time Hank slowed to turn into a private drive, Sage felt a hundred pounds lighter. “Where are we?”

“Friend of mine,” Hank said, navigating the twisting dirt road. At the end, a large house came into view, but instead of stopping, Hank drove around to the back. “He’s out of town right now, but I have standing orders to use the cove anytime I like.”

“Cove?”

Hank parked the Jeep, pulled the brake, and glanced her way. “Cove. Come on.”

The strong scent of salt filled her nose as she exited the Jeep. As much as she was around sweets all day, she enjoyed the change and the fresh warmth of the sun on her skin. Hank let Knight out of the backseat, the shepherd racing around with a series of excited barks. Hank chuckled and led them across the gravel parking area and through a dense stand of trees behind the house to a set of steps much like the ones set in the cliff across from the market. The Pacific Ocean spread out as far as she could see, but the cove at the base of the cliff was what truly took her breath. Thick walls of ancient stone, easily six feet higher than the water, formed a basin that cupped blue-green water as calm as glass. “Wow.”

Hank’s hand tightened around hers. “That’s what I said the first time Owen invited me over. Beautiful, isn’t it? And private.” He winked before continuing down the stone stairway. Sage followed, with Knight bringing up the rear.

A thin strip of white sand waited at the bottom of the steps. The light slap of waves against the outer walls of the cove could be heard, but distance and the peaceful water inside muffled them. Sage deposited her beach bag close to the cliff face with her towel, then grasped the hem of her tank top to pull it over her head.

“Sage.”

The rough timbre of his voice set her pulse racing. “Hmm?”

Hank moved in front of her. She watched his chest expand with a deep breath, release it, but instinctively, she didn’t raise her eyes higher. Did he want her to look at him? Did it matter? They weren’t scening. At some point she had to follow her natural instincts and let Hank tell her if he preferred otherwise. Her gaze dropped all the way to the ground as she waited.

Hank’s hand settled heavily on her lowered head. “Strip everything,” he commanded. “Your suit too.”

Her gaze shot to his. The heat she found there…God.

“What about Knight?” The shepherd was exploring the rocks at the far side of the cove, but he wouldn’t stay there long.

Hank shrugged. “He’s always going to be around, and I’m not kenneling him or leaving him at home when I want you, so he might as well get used to things.”

“Okay.” It was all she could get out, but it was enough for Hank. Except when she still didn’t move—

“So what did I ask you to do?”

Her breath caught. “To strip.”
Sir.
The word hovered on her lips.

“And?”

“Yes”—she took a chance—“Sir.”

Hank’s gaze went dark, hungry. Did he like her calling him
sir
?

A slow drag lifted her shirt, bared her naked stomach, her bikini top. Sage tossed the material onto her bag when it cleared her head, then went to work on her shorts. Hank watched every move. When her fingers hooked in her swimsuit bottoms, a sound a lot like a hiss escaped him. She hid her smile with a dip of her head.

The material slid easily down her hips, her thighs. In her peripheral vision she watched Hank’s fists clench tight. Straightening, she reached behind her neck for the tie to her top. He licked his lips.

A throb set up residence between her legs.

“Aren’t you joining me?” she whispered, unable to push the words out louder.

Hank didn’t take his gaze from her still-covered breasts. “Eventually.”

The tie came undone. Her bikini fell forward. Sensitive nipples crinkled and tightened against the gentle breeze.

“Finish,” Hank demanded.

When her top was set aside, he finally reached for her. Sage’s head fell back as he palmed her breasts, thumbs flicking the needy tips. She couldn’t stop herself from cupping his hands, forcing them tighter against her, arching up to offer him more. Hank was ruthless in arousing her, playing with her bare mounds until she thought she might scream. Her knees did give out, but his grip on her body kept her upright until he decided he was satisfied. She had no idea how long she’d stood there, letting him touch her, naked while he was clothed, nor did she care. All she cared about was getting more, harder—everything, including him inside her.

What she got was him stepping back.

“Hank?” Opening her eyes, she was relieved to see a slight smile on his lips. And an erection straining his swim shorts. She’d always needed a response to know if she was pleasing her lover, unlike some subs who went for the whole emotionless-bastard vibe. Knowing he was pleased, she could wait patiently for whatever he wanted.

Hank didn’t make her wait; he shrugged his open button-down off his shoulders, allowing her an unobstructed—and mouthwatering—view of his chest and tattoos. “Into the water.”

The sea embraced her bare skin with sensual warmth. Hank followed right behind her, his gaze hot on her body, devouring her every move. She’d never felt sexier. When the water reached her hips, she fell forward into it, ducking under to wet her hair and swimming a few short strokes to the middle of the cove. “This is amazing, Hank.”

“You’re amazing,” he said, striding toward her. His muscles strained against the weight of the water. She wanted to ask if he planned to swim, if he planned to get as naked as she was since his shorts were still riding low on his hips, but he didn’t give her time. “Let’s play a game.”

“A game?” He’d planned an actual scene. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face, the excitement out of her voice. “I think I can do that.” She stood facing him, waiting for instructions, a giddy butterfly-wings feeling taking up the space between her ribs and pelvis. Or maybe even lower.

He wanted to keep playing with her. Yes, she could definitely do that.

Hank kept coming until he was beside her. Heat seared her skin everywhere he stroked—across her hip, her belly, around to her opposite side, back up. When he came close to her breast, she had to remind herself to breathe.

His other hand went to the back of her neck. “I want you to lie back, just like when you were a kid. Remember how you’d float, staring up at the sky?”

Did he want verbal responses? Could she manage them? “Yes, Sir.”

Hank’s approval shone in his eyes. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do. Just float.”

She had a feeling it would be much more than just staring up at the sky, especially considering her naked breasts would be pointing straight up at him, but she had no desire to question Hank. Sinking into the water, into his hold at her back, she lifted her legs and let herself float. Water engulfed her ears, lapped at her skin, covered her, retreated, but through it all, Hank’s hands held her steady, safe. He controlled her.

This is about control.

The knowledge brought with it a sudden urge to cry—he was trying, learning.

He wanted to control her.

Were it not for his hold, Sage would’ve sunk beneath the surface as her emotions surged. As it was, all she had to do was let go.

“What’s wrong?”

The words sifted through the water to arrive muffled in her ears, but she understood them. All she could get out, though, was, “Thank you.”

Hank kept her body steady as he leaned down to take her mouth. The kiss was hotter than the water, than the sun. “You’re welcome,” he told her, his look saying he understood exactly what she was thanking him for.

He didn’t straighten fully; instead, he moved from her mouth to her neck. Firm lips trailed along the sensitive skin, his stubbled chin adding a brush of harsh to the sweet heat. She jumped, moaned…but didn’t sink, not with Hank surrounding her. In fact he lifted her upper body slightly to allow his mouth to settle in that spot between neck and shoulder, the one he latched on to now and gave a gentle suck. Teeth grazed her as she struggled to lie still and not reach for him.

Hank bit down on the muscle. Gently at first, then tighter, tighter, until shock zinged from her shoulder to her nipples and vagina. “Oh yes!” She shook with the need to grab him, throw back her head, and beg for even more, for him to use his teeth in other, more sensitive places, gifting her with the exquisite edge of pain. Hank, her ever-careful Hank, gifting her with pain, and it was so good, so—

Her arm brushed his erection through the wet silk of his swimsuit. Hank grunted, the shock of the touch jerking through him, but he didn’t lose his hold on her, didn’t allow her to sink. His mouth left the burning spot on her shoulder, moved down her collarbone, her cleavage, tracing one breast. The instinct to arch, to insist with her body that he take her nipple in his mouth overcame her willpower. Hank nipped the upper curve of her breast in retaliation. “Be still.”

She squeezed her thighs together, but when water surged closer to her face, she forced herself to relax again. “Yes, Sir.”

“I like that,” he murmured against her tight nipple. “I like you calling me ‘sir.’” He licked her. “Somehow it doesn’t feel…subservient, maybe?…so much as reverent.”

“Yes,” she moaned as his lips closed around her aching nub and sucked hard. “Yes.” That was exactly what it meant. She wasn’t a slave; she wasn’t afraid. She was so lost in the pleasure he was giving her that nothing and no one mattered but him in this moment. Even the water didn’t matter anymore, only Hank’s rhythmic drawing on her flesh and the heated yearning between her legs. “Yes.”

When he let go, the cooler air pinched her nipple like a clamp. A slight shift and then Sage felt Hank’s knee come up beneath her, the water rise slightly on her body. She didn’t tense, though, unafraid of him dropping her. The hand that had been supporting her spine began to wander her body in tandem with his mouth, skimming her skin, drawing patterns of need everywhere it went. Hank licked the droplets of water from her, breathed shivers of air against her, whispered sweet, sensual, even dirty words over her most sensitive places until the blood pounded in her veins and she couldn’t decide which was worse, drowning or waiting a moment longer to have him inside her. Above the rush of her heartbeat and the water in her ears, she realized her cries had turned to begging and she was helpless to stop.