Restrained and Willing (8 page)

A little stretch. A little burn. A whole lot of wonderful.

“How’s that feel?”

“Amazing.”

He lowered his lips for a soft kiss. “You’re so wet. So hot.
I love the feel of your moist heat, the creaminess of your cum all over my
fingers. I’ll love it even more on my dick.”

Heather’s heart thudded to a halt. Shot back into rhythm.
This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for. Being in Pierce’s arms.
Totally, vulnerably naked. About to accept him into her body.

Pierce could pinpoint the precise second when Heather gave
herself over to the bliss. There was nothing like that exact moment. The head
rush a man got when his woman gave herself into his keeping.
His
woman?
The silent claim didn’t cause his usual grab-your-pants-and-get-the-hell-out
reaction.

Okay, he was so not going there.

He released his grip on her wrists, guiding each one to the
sturdy rails of the headboard. “Don’t let go,” he instructed.

In tandem to her nod, he seated his fingers all the way up
inside her. Kissed the low-throated moan from her lips.

“Please. Please. I ache for you.”

“I know you do, baby. I’ll take care of that in a minute.”
He delved her creamy depths with concentrated intent. Tucked his thumb in the
pyramid of his fingers. Gradually prepared her to accept him. His cock was
wider than his fingers’ combined circumference, and although a little pain
could be enjoyable, too much could be disastrous to a woman who hadn’t been
broken in to the unimaginable pleasure it could give. And Pierce was determined
Heather experience every miraculous facet of pleasurable pain sexual discipline
could offer.

Even if the wait was nearly killing him.

He wanted inside her so high and tight, his balls ached
worse than he could ever remember. Each little moan, the writhing of her lush
body, imploring looks from her spectacular dark-brown eyes, threatened to make
him explode. When had he ever been this impatient to get his dick into a woman?
He pushed the
never
that reverberated in his skull into a safe distant
place in his mind. He’d always been connected to Heather on some level. But
never
was a pretty hardcore word. Too close to a forever relationship for his liking.

When he deemed her ready, he pulled his fingers from her
silken heat, covered her body and settled his throbbing cock at the entrance of
her pussy.

“Ready?”

“More ready than you know.”

“Remember, don’t let go of the headboard. I’d hate to have
to waste time to search for something to tie your hands with.”

“Not a chance.”

“Good.” He framed her face with his hands, mashed his lips
to hers and thrust forward.

“Umpf!” Her eyes flew wide.

He broke the kiss. “Hurt?”

“Yes. No.”

“Which?” A rhetorical question since he’d already felt the
initial tensing of her body a split second before her ensuing shudder of
pleasure.

“Yes, it hurt. But in a good way. I’ve never felt so full.”
She wriggled. “So stretched.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He kissed the corners of her mouth.

“I suppose I will.”

The dreamy look on her face necessitated another kiss. This
one full-mouthed, tongues engaged.

Pierce partially withdrew, reentering in a slow,
enjoy-every-silky-millimeter glide. There was nothing to compare to being
balls-deep inside a beautiful, wet and more than willing woman. Especially one
whose familiar chocolate orbs sparkled up at you in wonder. Pierce didn’t move,
wanting to suspend this magical moment. For some unknown reason needing to imprint
it in his memory. No matter what the future held, no matter how things ended
between them, this extraordinary moment, when they’d joined their bodies for
the first time, would be forever unique. Unable to be erased or taken away from
him.

God, Heather wanted to stay attached to him in this sensual
way forever. The look of pleasure in his eyes. The heat of his body covering
hers. It was everything she’d ever dreamed of and so very much more. A wondrous
moment she’d never forget, whether he would or not. For the first time in her
life, she felt complete. She’d found a piece of herself she hadn’t even been
aware was missing.

He thrust inside her again, so high he bottomed out,
pressing against her cervix.

She bit her lip to muffle an ear-splitting appreciative
moan.

“Don’t you dare hold back, sweet brat. Scream. Moan. Swear.
I love all the uninhibited noises you make. It’s a major turn-on.”

She nodded, the only acknowledgement she was capable of as
he lowered his body to kiss her with highly skilled, tunneling penetrations of
his tongue. A welcomed invasion. A mimic of what his wonderful cock was doing
to her aching pussy. There wasn’t a doubt he was pleasuring her and then some.

Just when she thought he’d reached his max, he surged again.
The pressure in her belly intensified.

“Fuck!” She sucked in a quick breath.

It hurt. It felt so damn good.

She wanted him to quit. Wanted him to give her more.
Everything he had. Could she take it? She damn sure was going to give it her
all. Needed it more than flowers needed water and sun.

Nothing in her experience had ever been so glorious. She
marveled at the fullness. The stretch. The sensual pain. The varying textures
of his cock as it glided past the taut, inflamed entrance of her pussy, through
the swollen sensitized tissues of her drenched channel. If she didn’t know
better, she’d think someone had slipped her a sex drug, making her hyperaware
of the man hovering above her. His bulging biceps as his dream-inducing arms
took his muscle-packed weight. His thick thighs, spreading hers to the max. The
hair on those solid thighs, brushing over her more tender flesh. The sheen of
sweat on his precious face as he tirelessly labored to bring her to what she
knew would be a cataclysmic climax. The coveted moment she’d hung all of her
hope on.

“Don’t you dare stop, Pierce.” She strained up to meet his
slow measured strokes.

“Not an issue, brat. You feel so fucking incredible, I doubt
I could stop now if the entire building fell in.” He accentuated the decree
with a powerful upstroke that moved her up the bed a notch.

“Damn it!” She tightened her hold on the wrought-iron,
grateful she’d had the foresight to invest in a sturdy bedframe.

He leaned down to nip a protruding nipple.

Her expletive
Shit!
turned into an open-mouthed groan
when he licked, then gently sucked the abused peak.

His warm breath surged over her chest before he raised his
head to stare into her eyes. “I want to fuck you into oblivion. A private
paradise where all that matters is you, me and the deliciously erotic things
I’ll do to your beautiful body.” He picked up the pace of his strokes.

“I’m already there.” Her whole body broke out in a sweat.
Became an uncontrolled writhing mass of sensation. “Pierce. Pierce, I’m going
to—”

“Yeah, baby. I know.” He switched his grip, sliding his
hands beneath her back to cup her shoulders. “Give me that sweet cream.” He
pulled almost all the way out and drove home. “Come!”

“Yes!” The one-word command was the equivalent of the shot
of a pistol at the start of a race, sending her headlong to the finish line.
Her grip slipped, her hands flailing for several seconds before they landed on
his wide back with a slap, her nails anchoring in a solid slab of muscle.
Pierce didn’t make a sound. Even if he had uttered a complaint, she doubted it
could be heard over all the wailing filling the room. “Oh God. Oh God!” She
fought for breath.

The orgasm rolled through her body, wave after crashing wave
of unimaginable pleasure. Her body clenched, trembled. She felt so out of
control. An unanchored balloon in strong winds.

As her orgasm spiraled down, the hands at her shoulders
clenched. The cock inside her swelled, then throbbed in a glorious rhythm of
release that miraculously tripped another orgasm. Not as powerful as the first,
but no less mind-shattering.

Her nails dug deeper.

Hot fluid pumped into her clenching pussy. She screamed.

“No. No more.” She thrashed her head. “Pierce, I can’t. No
more. Please,” she pleaded around irregular pants.

“Shhh. It’s okay, brat. I’ve got you.” He didn’t move.
Remained wedged deep inside her as the pulsing of his cock slowed. Thrummed to
a stop. “Do you know how astonishing you are?” He distributed a series of
feathery kisses over her cheeks, lips, nose, temples, neck. Anywhere he could
reach.

She cherished every single contact.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated softly.

Body still trembling, her breathing slowed.

He rose up.

“No.” She clutched him tighter and wrapped her legs around
the backs of his thighs.

“I’m not going far, love. Just taking some of my weight off
you. I must be getting heavy.”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

He placed a soft kiss to her dry lips.

She felt his smile before he raised his head slightly.
“Thirsty?”

She nodded, tried to drum up some spit. “Yes.” Dry
swallowed. “But I need you to hold me for a bit. That was beyond amazing. I’ve
never felt this way before” She swallowed again. “Not with anyone.”

He kissed her. “I know, sweetheart. Me either.”

Stunned, she went completely lax. “Wait. What are you
saying?”

“That I’m not taking care of you very well. I’m probably
crushing you and you sound like you need a drink of water.”

One quick hard press of his lips on hers and he was up and
off the bed.

“Close your eyes. Relax. Be back to clean you up,” he called
over his shoulder as he strode toward the door of the connecting bathroom.

Heather stared at his fine ass until it disappeared behind
the closed door.

She’d be the first to admit he’d given her the best damn
orgasm she’d ever had in her entire life. Admittedly over-the-moon
mind-blowing. But she didn’t think it had affected her hearing.

Or had it?

Pierce laid his palms on the tiled counter surrounding the
bathroom sink, leaned his head against the plate glass mirror spanning the
entire wall above it and released a groan.

What the fuck!

What in hell was wrong with him? Where was all that control
he was envied for? Not once. Not with any woman. No matter how good in the sack
had he ever made such a monumental slip, given a female a reason to think they
were
special
. Not that Heather wasn’t special. She was damn special.
Just not in
that
way in reference to him. He’d had good sex with plenty
of women. Great sex with a few. But not once had the word
never
come
into play on his part, intimating the
best
.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

What was that old saying about things said in the heat of
passion? He was allowed one mistake in all the relationships he’d had. Wasn’t
he?

* * * * *

He was rested from an hour-long nap, an empty wine bottle on
the floor and a miraculous reprieve from the third degree he’d expected regarding
his dumb-ass statement earlier. Pierce smiled up at the woman kneeling over
him.

“My turn, big boy.” One of Heather’s silky eyebrows arched
in seductive challenge.

His dick turned to the consistency of tempered steel.

God help him, why did the smallest gesture from this woman
turn him on? He definitely needed to get a grip.

“On your back. Hands above your head. It’s time for you to
hang
on
for a change.”

If she only knew the gift he was granting her by
relinquishing control. It had been a long time since he’d allowed that to
happen. So long, in fact, he could barely remember. It definitely happened in
his young, inexperienced years.

Pierce suppressed a grin. “You will be gentle with me, won’t
you?” he asked in a pseudo-vulnerable voice that produced a tinkle of feminine
laughter.

“Oh, for sure. You can trust me,” she said with a glint of
she-devil in her eyes as she leaned over to snatch up the plate of tiramisu
where it perched on top of a shallow bowl of melting ice cubes.

“Hey, I had plans for that.”

“Tough. So do I.” She looked pointedly between the headboard
and his hands.

He anchored his hands on two curves in the frame’s flowing
design, expelling an exaggerated put-upon sigh.

“Legs spread. And don’t you dare let go.” She scraped a
fingernail lightly over his thigh. “I’d hate to have to stop to search for
something to tie your hands with.” She mimicked his earlier warning.

He was about to issue a warning of his own along the lines
of not prodding an unleashed tiger when she scooted down between his legs on
her knees, balancing the plate in her hand and leaned over to lick him from the
base of his balls to the tip of his straining cock. Tickled her tongue around
the ridge of the head. Laved her way through the small slit at the top and
gathered a small pool of pre-cum.

“Damn it, witch.” His hips jerked. His knees followed,
tapping her arm and nearly upsetting the dessert in her hand.

The woman was coordinated, he’d give her that. And had a
damn talented tongue.

“Easy there,
big
guy. I had a much more interesting
place to lick this delectable confection from than the sheets. After the
torture you subjected me to, it’s only fair I get to return the favor.”

He held back a sinister grin. No use scaring her. She was
such a babe in the woods when it came to sexual torture. And he was the big bad
wolf. He’d let her have her fun. For now.

“Ready?” She dipped two fingers into the whipped topping of
the dessert, scooping up a generous portion.

“Do your worst, sweetcakes.”

The ends of her hair swayed when she shook her head. “Nope.
I plan to do my very, very best.” She dragged her fingers over the length of
his unbending cock, painting a cool trail of fluffy cream flecked with cocoa.
The mascarpone custard came next…a slow, meticulous coating of his balls.

He strained air through his teeth. “Holy shit, that’s cold.”

“Apparently.” She didn’t sound the least bit sympathetic. It
was clear his little brat had a wicked streak. A trait that turned him on
big-time.

“I guess I’ll have to coax the poor
little fellows
to
come back out and play.”