Out of Bounds (12 page)

“I doubt my ability to control myself.” He pushed the jeans down his legs and kicked them aside. “You unleash something inside me. All I think about is fucking.”

It wasn’t a traditional compliment, but it struck her as being more sincere than any praise she’d ever received from a man.

“Why do you think I got on that plane?” She pulled her top up and over her head. It fluttered to the floor behind her as she reached back to unhook her bra and bare her breasts for him. “I have the same problem. Where are the condoms?”

His eyes narrowed, becoming slits as she stripped her pants and underwear off. He was soaking up the sight of her, scrutinizing every last inch of her body. The sheer magnificence of his body put her on edge, and her confidence crumbled. She shifted, crossing one foot in front of the other and shielding her chest with her hands.

He shook his head slowly. “Don’t hide from me, Sabra. You’ve turned me into a mindless animal. All I can think about is getting between your legs. Doubt my control or motives, but never doubt your allure. It’s off the scale.”

He closed the distance between them, and her heart accelerated with every step. She would have sworn she felt his body heat reaching out to entice her. He cupped her hips, the touch too gentle for what she craved.

“That works for me.”

His grip tightened as his nostrils flared.

“The mindless thing.” Her lower lip had gone dry, so she licked it. “It sounds really… enticing.”

He growled at her, the sound turning up the arousal burning inside her. She had no idea what she was doing, only that she couldn’t regret a single thing.

He turned her around and she fell forward onto the huge bed. She flattened her hands on the surface as he leaned over her back, the hard muscles of his chest delighting her when they pressed against her.

“Sure about that, Sabra?” His voice was rough with need. He nipped the side of her neck, sending a jolt of pleasure straight into her pussy. “Sure you want to let me off the leash?”

The head of his cock slipped between the folds of her slit. It settled against the opening of her body, tormenting her with how close he was to filling her.

“I never asked you to wear a leash, and the condom was your issue.”

“I don’t want to wear one.”

He thrust into her, his cock stretching her once again. She moaned, low and deep as pleasure threatened to explode inside her from that single stroke.

But she wanted more. Much more.

So did he.

A dressing mirror sat across the room. When she opened her eyes, she stared straight into the reflection of the two of them. He was watching her with his teeth bared.

“Don’t you dare come yet.”

He grasped her hips and began to pump his cock in and out of her. He leaned back and growled. “Watching your tits jiggle is so damned hot.”

She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open. It was as if all the need inside her was too much to deal with, so her other senses were shutting down. She pressed her bottom back to meet each thrust, her clit throbbing with the need to climax.

It remained maddeningly out of reach. She was on the edge, each thrust the one she thought would end her torment. His cock felt harder and bigger every time he sent it back into her too. Her lips curled back as she snarled with need.

“Satisfy me!”

He swore, but she was so far gone the words failed to register beyond being profane. He lifted her up by her hips and pushed her further onto the bed. She tried to turn over, to give her clit the pressure it craved, but he followed her and pinned her down before she could flip over.

“No!”

“Yes!” he growled next to her ear.

The bedding had bunched up and her belly rested on a mound of it. He thrust back into her, hard and deep from behind once again. This time he covered her back and pinned her down with his larger body, even tucking his chin against the side of her neck.

“And yes, I will satisfy you.” He reached beneath her hips and found her clit. “But my way, Sabra.
Mine
.”

He bit her, his teeth nipping the delicate skin of her neck as he fingered her clit. The two sensations ripped through her and collided. The force of the collision sent an orgasm roaring through her. If she hadn’t been lying on the bed, she was sure she would have collapsed. There was nothing but the mind-numbing pleasure, nothing but the overwhelming sensation of delight tearing through her. She screamed, the sound echoing around the room, and he snarled next to her ear as she felt him begin to come inside her. The first spurts were thick and hot against her insides. But her pussy tightened, pulling on his length as a second climax gripped her.

“That’s it… milk me.”

He sounded agonized, but a look in the mirror showed her an expression of primitive enjoyment. It was hard and basic, the muscles along his neck corded and as stiff as his cock.

His cock jerked a few final times before he rolled over and collapsed on his back. The bed was huge, leaving plenty of room for them both to lay sprawled out on it.

The only sound in the room was their labored breathing. There was a slight buzzing in her ears and she felt as if she were spinning around in a lazy circle. Maybe she was going to pass out. It really didn’t worry her too much. Satisfaction was glowing inside her, making every muscle lax.

Burning wood popped in the fireplace, and she opened her eyes as reality came flooding back in, keeping her from relaxing. She rolled over and got to her feet. Tarak was asleep.

She stared for a long moment at his relaxed face. A shudder moved down her back because even in sleep, the man wasn’t anywhere near having his guard down. It was just too much a facet of his personality. Yet it felt like a privilege to view him in such a relaxed state. It was intimate in a manner she’d never applied the word to before. He wasn’t a man who let his guard down often or even when others might witness it.

She grabbed her pants and top, and got into them without bothering with her underwear. The cabin-style home had wood flooring that was colder the closer to the entryway she went.

There was a huge great room which stretched between the double doorway of the master bedroom and the kitchen. On the right side of the kitchen there was another large room with sofas and recliners. A large fireplace was set into one wall, and the exterior wall was set with enormous picture windows. The view was amazing. A hallway led back to what was likely more bedrooms, but the master bedroom was separated for privacy and proximity to the kitchen.

She stopped, staring at her bag. It was sitting inside the entry doors of the coatroom with her purse sitting neatly on top.

Her cheeks colored as she realized she’d never taken them out of the Terrain Tank. The driver must have brought her things in after she and Tarak retired to the bedroom.

Retired
to
the
bedroom?

Hell. They’d been in a hurry to get naked. And there was no polite way to phrase it.

Not that she was searching for one. To be completely honest with herself, she had to face the fact that she liked Tarak with all his sharp edges. She sat her bag down on the table quietly and opened it. The last thing she’d packed was her garter belt.

Nope, she didn’t want him to change one little bit. Celeste would likely have something to say about her conforming to Tarak’s tastes. But even that wasn’t enough of a deterrent. Maybe it was the week she’d just spent thinking about Tarak, who had left her, willing to see if there was anything else to their attraction beyond fucking.

Maybe it was the fact that he’d taken the time to remove the obstacles between them. One look at the rest of the cabin, and it was clear two hundred grand wasn’t much in his world. What mattered was the thought he’d invested in making sure she wouldn’t have a valid argument left against continuing their relationship—it was show up or admit he was just too much for her.

“I told you not to pack anything.”

Even sprawled out buck naked, the man sounded commanding. She looked back over her shoulder at him. He was frowning at her bag like it was some sort of breach of contract. Celeste’s warning gained a little volume, but all it served to do was make her want to poke him a few times to see how he reacted.

“I guess I’ll just forget about wearing the garter belt for you.” She turned her tone sweet as honey and lifted the satin creation up so he could see it. “What was I thinking?” She dropped it back into the bag and pulled the zipper shut.

He sat up, his eyes narrowing.

“Oh yes, I was thinking I wasn’t your sex kitten. Because if that’s what you want, obedience to every little instruction no matter how asinine, you called the wrong girl. You’re not the only one who likes things the way they like it. I brought my makeup, my personal things because I know what I like, and if you know what brand of bra I’m wearing, you’re going to qualify for the title of stalker.”

“Lesson learned,” he said quickly. “But I think you’re selling the personal shopper I hired a little short. She does have a degree in her field.”

“In shopping?” Sabra questioned. “Isn’t that an urban legend or an urban princess’s fantasy?”

Sabra leaned onto the bed with on one knee, his body beckoning to her again, but her belly rumbled.

He chuckled, the sound more relaxed than she recalled hearing from him before.

“Maybe.” He grabbed his jeans and stepped into them. “All I really cared about is her ability to accurately judge her client’s size and taste from the pictures provided.”

“You gave someone pictures of me?” The concept was actually less alarming than the idea that he had pictures of her.

He shrugged before reaching for her hand and clasping it.

“The shopping is limited up here, Sabra. Since I wasn’t going to give you too much time to think about getting on the plane, I wanted to make sure I had what you needed when you got here.”

He pulled her toward the kitchen and left her in front of the huge island that made up the outer edge of the cooking area. It had a dark marble slab on top and eight barstools completed the breakfast bar.

Tarak walked confidently through the kitchen and pulled a skillet out of a cabinet. Next he opened the huge side-by-side refrigerator and removed some bread, milk, and eggs.

“You know your way around a kitchen?” she asked, surprised.

“Why so surprised?” He broke the eggs on the edge of a glass mixing bowl and tossed the shells in a trash bin. “Doesn’t cooking fit the image you have of me?”

She climbed up onto one of the stools. It had a plush back and padded seat. “Not unless it’s a fresh kill being roasted over a campfire.”

He laughed at her while beating the eggs. A splash of milk, and a sprinkle of nutmeg and cinnamon completed the batter. He pulled two thick slices of bread from the package and soaked them. A stainless-steel coffeemaker sat off to one side of the range, and he filled it with efficient motions. The scent of ground coffee rose up to tease her nose.

“I think I may have exhausted my quota of uncivilized behavior for the day.” He dropped a dab of butter into the pan and angled it around so the hot surface was evenly coated. “At least until you’re fed.”

He filled a kettle and sat it on a back burner. Once he’d placed the bread in the skillet, he moved to one of the cabinets and returned with a box of her favorite tea.

“You know me better than I know you.” Maybe it wasn’t the wisest thing to say out loud, because she was admitting a weakness.

He shrugged before turning the French toast. “That’s my fault. Success has a way of attracting insincere people, so I tend to check up on people I let in my life.”

“And you’ve learned to keep your personal information private.”

He slid the finished toast onto a plate and delivered it to her with a flourish.

“I can’t have my epic cooking skills becoming well-known. I do have a company to run.”

The kettle was whistling and he turned around to fill a mug with steaming water.

“Or have your cutthroat image doubted?”

He placed the mug in front of her. “Exactly.”

The toast was a perfect golden brown and smelled delicious. She spread around the butter he’d topped it with before pouring a little syrup on it. It was real maple syrup, and the first taste was amazing. He was busy fixing himself a batch while she contemplated the fact that Tarak Nektosha was actually making breakfast.

“I guess cooking skills come in handy up here.”

He nodded before tossing his own breakfast onto a plate. He didn’t join her at the bar, but leaned back against the countertop.

“I’m making you nervous,” she observed.

He froze mid-chew, his eyes narrowing before he finished the bite in his mouth and swallowed. The coffee was finished and he filled a mug with the dark brew. But he stopped after one sip and just held the mug against his chest as he looked at her.

“I built this house out of a sense of revenge. It’s a little odd to be inviting someone into it.”

“Karma has a twisted sense of humor.”

He snorted and flashed her one of those grins that made her insides melt. The guy was just too sexy.

She looked around the spacious kitchen but resisted the urge to look over her shoulder because she didn’t want to break the spell of the moment. It was one of those rare moments when Tarak had his guard down and she desperately wanted to know what the man inside was like.

Maybe she’d find some sort of understanding about her reaction to him.

“Her name was Liluye and I was twenty when I asked her to marry me.”

“That’s young.”

He took a long sip of coffee. “Not on reservation land. Kids get married all the time and divorced just as often. It’s a screwed-up sort of thinking, that sex is more respectable under the bonds of matrimony even though you break those vows when the passion has cooled off. The bottom line is, I wanted to get into her bed.”

“It sounds like it was something more if you built all this in revenge.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I’d have to be pretty shallow not to notice, Tarak.” She toyed with her tea bag for a moment. “But it can wait.” She started to get up.