Unleashed: Volume 2 (Unleashed #2) (3 page)

And now maybe I’d
bring a loaf down to Declan? I’d seen his truck parked outside of
his cabin. Unusual for a Saturday night, he almost always went out.
But tonight he’d stayed home. Like me.

Before I could stop my
train of thought, I ran to my room and changed clothes. I didn’t
want to overdo it, so I just grabbed a t-shirt and short shorts. As
if I could wear anything that would make me not look ridiculously
obvious and lamely hopeful, knocking on his door on a Saturday night.

But obsession was a
powerful force and it clearly had me in its grip. It was Saturday
night, hot and sticky in late June, and I had to see him. Maybe he’d
have his shirt off? Dear God, I might not make it. I’d have a heart
attack. What an incredible way to go.

At the last minute, I
made a thermos of lemonade, too. So dumb, like I was asking him to go
on a church picnic. I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop my feet
from walking out the door.

My heart just about
beat out of my chest as I made my way in the darkness down to his
cabin. Daddy was out tonight playing poker with some neighbors. The
light was on in Declan’s cabin. His truck was still parked there
outside. Would we finally have a moment alone, just the two of us?

I heard the moaning a
few feet away from his front door. It was a woman and she was really
enjoying herself.

“Oh yeah!” she
yelled, breathy.

I didn’t hear
anything after that. Maybe he was watching TV?

I noticed that the door
was ajar. I guessed that was why I could hear things so loud and
clear. I inched toward the doorway, the light peeking through. Should
I knock?

Without thinking, I put
my hand to the door and pushed. It opened slowly, silently, and I saw
what was making all that noise.

Declan sat on the
couch, shirtless as I’d imagined. He didn’t have his pants on
either. He had his eyes closed, his head tilted back as a woman
kneeled between his legs and took his cock into her mouth.

“That’s it.” He
groaned in pleasure, bringing a hand to the back of her head.

She made a deep purring
noise, running her hands up and down his thighs as she sucked. “Mmm.”
She enjoyed herself as she took him in deep.

I stood, frozen to the
spot, banana bread in one hand, thermos of lemonade tucked under my
arm. My jaw must have dropped to the floor. But I didn’t move.

Eyes closed, Declan
leaned back with his throat stretched out and a dusting of stubble
across his strong jaw. His shoulders were so broad, so defined, his
chest a pure wall of muscle. He looked like raw, potent power with
his thick thighs spread. A groan came out of his throat.

He cupped the back of
the other girl’s head and pushed her down on his hard cock. All
male domination, in a deep, throaty voice he told her, “Suck it.”
The girl moaned, loving every second of it.

A shudder traveled up
through my body. My core tightened and heat pooled deep within, my
pussy starting to throb. I’d never seen anything so dirty, so
erotic.

Hand on her head, so
controlling, he said, “Yes, like that.”

I knew I should turn
and run but I couldn’t. I couldn’t move a muscle. I could see his
pulse throbbing in his neck, could see his outstretched hand fisting
in the couch pillow. His thighs corded with muscle, tense. Her head
bobbed up and down, working for him.

I bit my lip and looked
up. He was looking straight at me. Frozen, caught, I couldn’t move.
His eyes devoured me, scorching me with an intensity I’d never seen
before.

“I’m going to
come,” he growled, looking straight at me. I couldn’t stop a soft
moan from escaping my lips as he threw his head back and groaned
while his cock exploded come into the other girl’s mouth.

Then I ran. Holding my
ridiculous banana bread and my church picnic thermos of lemonade, I
ran as fast as my 18-year-old legs could carry me all the way back to
my house up on the hill. I pounded up the porch, slammed the front
door behind me and though we never did, I locked it tight. Throwing
my undelivered gifts to the floor, I ran up the stairs and down the
hall to my bedroom.

But then what did I do?
Did I bury my head in my hands and cry like a good girl, promising
myself that I was done for good with Declan? Did I learn my lesson?

No. I brought my
fevered hands down to my wet, throbbing pussy and discovered my own
needs. I’d never seen anything like that.

My fingers worked my
slick clit. I wanted to kneel between his legs. I wanted to take his
cock full in my mouth, have his hand fisted in my hair and forcing me
down on him. I moaned, my fingers moving faster. I wanted him to tilt
his head back and call out my name. I wanted his hot come shooting
down my throat.

It was the last thought
that put me over the edge, sending wave after crashing wave of orgasm
shuddering though my sweat-soaked body. I wanted him, I needed him. I
hated him.

Now

“Go stand behind the
couch,” he ordered, his dark eyes intense and unreadable. He stood
in the corner of his penthouse, the cool and collected businessman in
his dress shirt and crisp jeans. All of Billings lay below him
through the windows on one side. I stood on the other, half-naked and
awaiting his commands.

“What?” My head
felt foggy, flooded with desire so intense it didn’t leave room for
much else. He’d told me it was time to begin my training. What did
he mean? Why did I want to find out?

“Over to the back of
the couch. Put your hands under your ass and sit on them.”

“Declan?” I bit my
lip. Even as his words, his demeanor and his dominance made my sex
throb, I couldn’t fully shake the reluctance out of my head. This
wasn’t normal. This wasn’t how people behaved.

Pointing to the couch,
he repeated, “Your hands. Under your ass. Now.”

Shaking, my body took
over and I walked to the couch. I turned to face him. Then I placed
my hands behind me, palm-down on the back of the couch. And I sat on
them. The leather felt cool and unyielding. My skirt rode up so high
I could feel it against my upper thighs and even the base of my
bottom. With my hands secured behind me, I sat like he told me to
with my shoulders back and my back arched.

I felt exposed,
trapped, and slippery hot with need. I had to be a twisted, sick
woman to love this, but I did. And he knew it.

There was nothing I
could do to hide my arousal, my breasts straining toward him, begging
for his attention. I squirmed and panted and he could see how
desperate he made me.

He approached me,
striding slowly, his massive strength tightly controlled. He clenched
his jaw.

In a low voice, he
asked, “Did it turn you on, flirting with those men in the bar
tonight?” He reached out a finger, slow and deliberate, making a
circle first around one nipple, then around the next. I whimpered,
panting under his touch.

I couldn’t help it. I
had to touch him. I brought a hand out from behind me and reached up,
grabbing his huge shoulder and raking my nails across his muscles.

He pulled away, a stern
look on his face and an index finger up in admonishment. “No.”

Surprised, I looked up
into his eyes, my hand feeling so empty.

“You need to do as I
say, Kara.”

He’d told me to put
my hands under my ass. I bit my lip. He wanted me to obey his orders.
I wanted him to touch me. Reluctantly, I brought my hand back under
my bottom like he’d told me.

“Good girl,” he
praised me. “You’re mine for the week. You need to learn how to
behave. I’m in control here, do you understand?”

His voice coated me
thick and dark like velvet and I wondered if the sound of it alone
could make me come. I nodded, but couldn’t think to speak with his
hands back on my body, slowly caressing my waist, up again at my
breasts, brushing, circling, squeezing, coaxing. With the slightest,
briefest whisper, his fingers grazed my nipple.

“Oh!” I cried out,
unable to stop myself. I felt so vulnerable and exposed, unable to
move my hands under his commands.

Suddenly, he reached
out and tweaked my nipple, hard. I gasped, then moaned as he brought
his mouth down to it, sucking it, then circling it with his tongue.
All still through the barrier of the bra. I’d never hated a bra
more.

“You didn’t answer
me, Kara.” His breath hot against the wet fabric, he asked, “Did
it turn you on, flirting with those men in the bar?”

“Declan…” I
panted as he took his thumbs to my breasts, teasing me again, tracing
them lightly, outlining their swell. I felt agitated, embarrassed to
be called out for doing exactly what I had been doing. I had been
flirting, enjoying the male attention.

“I saw you strutting
around,” he continued. “Working it.”

“No!” I gasped,
ashamed. But I had been, thrusting out my tits, swaying my ass, using
my body to turn them on. Especially when I knew Declan was watching.

“No? You weren’t
being a tease, Kara?” He brought his hot mouth down again and bit
me, lightly on the soft mound of my breast, harder, his teeth on my
nipple.

I cried out, twisting
on my hands, arching into him, shocked and confused and desperately
wanting more. I had been teasing. And I’d wanted him to catch me
doing it, to see that I was sexy and desirable. But I felt guilty
about being caught. Good girls weren’t supposed to do that.

He drew back and
surveyed me, cupping my breasts lovingly. “I’ve always loved your
tits, Kara. So sensitive. So responsive.”

I was vaguely aware of
him taking one hand away, the sound of ice clinking against a glass.
I assumed he was taking a drink.

He brought an ice cube
directly onto my erect nipple. So cold, it made me gasp and
straighten up, my eyes wide now in surprise. He smiled, not pulling
away at all, and began to trace a path around my breast with the ice
cube. I still wore the bra, but it didn’t offer much coverage. He
plastered the lace to my trembling skin with the cold, dripping ice.

He reached down with
his free hand to my inner thigh. I parted my legs without being
asked. Declan gave a low, appreciative murmur. “That’s good,
Kara. Open for me.”

I moaned in response,
parting my legs more. He stroked my inner thigh and brought the cube
in slow circles around my nipple, making me think about how much I
needed direct contact. I tilted my head back, wantonly pressing my
breast up into the ice, seeking more sensation. I wanted to reach
out, pull him toward me, but I kept my hands pinned where I’d been
told.

“I like how much I
can see with this bra.” The wet lace pressed against my curves, my
nipples stiff and aching. He licked his lips. “But it has to go.
Take it off. Take everything off for me, Kara.”

He took a step back to
watch. I instantly longed for his touch, felt bereft without it.
Standing, breathless, I brought my shaking hands to the bottom of my
shirt. I could see the outline of his huge, hard cock straining
against his jeans. A soft moan escaped me and I licked my parted
lips.

“Take it off,” he
growled, growing impatient. Complying, I unclasped the bra and
dropped it to the ground, my breasts springing free for him to see. I
kicked off my boots. Slipping my thumbs inside the waistband of my
skirt, I looked up at him, suddenly shy.

“Now,” he
commanded. I slipped my skirt down my curves, stepping out of it to
stand absolutely naked. Slowly, biting my lip, I revealed myself
completely, my shaved-bare pussy juicy wet and on full display.

Declan watched me
intently, then reached a hand to his lower abdomen and undid the top
button of his jeans. I couldn’t take my eyes off that spot, where I
could see the outline of his giant shaft almost free now, straining.
I could see the tip of it, pushing out against his briefs, reaching
the top of his waistband. I wanted to reach out and touch it so
badly.

“Hands back where I
told you.” His voice came out in a harsh hiss.

“Yes,” I responded,
putting my hands back under my ass. I could feel my slit now,
pressing against my fingers. I wished I could have more room to touch
myself. With so much pressure building up inside me, I felt crazy,
clenched and quivering for release.

He stepped closer,
inches away again without touching me. I shook as he surveyed my
naked breasts, shivering as he brought just a few fingers up to
lightly brush my stomach, tantalizing me.

“I think you liked
being a cock tease tonight.”

“Declan!” I gasped.

“I saw you showing
off these tits. But they’re mine.” As if unable to stop himself
any longer, he bent with a growl. Bringing his mouth down onto one of
my breasts, his hand claimed the other. “Mine.” He licked and
sucked. Then he bit me, sharp but light, marking me as his own. I
moaned and twisted underneath his heat.

“Yes, Declan.” I
never wanted him to stop.

With a wicked gleam in
his eyes, he stopped and looked up at me. He brought a hand behind my
head and grasped my ponytail. With a tug, he raised my face so I’d
meet his gaze head-on. “Did you show off your tits tonight, Kara?
Tell me.”

“Yes, Declan,” I
confessed, squirming and slick on my hands, ashamed.

“You wanted those men
to look at you. To get hard.”

I twisted, still
keeping my hands under my ass. “Yes,” I gasped, guilty and so, so
wet.

“You got them hard,
you little cock tease,” he grit out between his teeth. “But you
belong to me.”

With a swift, strong
movement, he flipped me. “Lean over the couch.” My arms against
the back of the couch, I leaned down into the cushions, baring my ass
and my soaking pussy for him.

“Spread for me,” he
commanded. I opened my legs, squirming with embarrassment. I knew he
could see everything, how much I wanted him, drenched with need.