The Donovan Dynasty: Bind Part 27

The sensation made his b.a.l.l.s draw up.

He braced his hands on either side of her and pulled his c.o.c.k out slightly, enough to allow him a moment to regain control.

She'd closed her eyes but she still kept her legs where he'd ordered. He shortened his strokes, seeking to arouse her again. "You're so wet."

"You're so big. So hot," she responded.

He locked his jaw to hold on, to prolong their lovemaking, but when she lifted herself higher, drawing him in deeper with each thrust, he pistoned his hips.

"Let me have it," she said, opening her eyes to look at him.

He thrust his c.o.c.k in rapid succession, building the friction. He gritted his teeth as the pressure built. Finally, he couldn't hold back. He went still then groaned as he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed in hot, satisfying spurts.

"So, so wanted that," she whispered.

It took all of his mental effort to keep from collapsing on top of her. Instead, he lifted himself off and rolled to his side, then pulled her immediately into his arms. "Are you too uncomfortable for me to hold you for a second?"

"I'd like it."

As if she'd done it a dozen times, she rested her head on his chest.

He trailed the back of his hand up and down the side of her face. "You continue to amaze me, Lara." The way she interacted with him made him want to give her more.

"That was pretty s.e.xy, Sir."

"You were pretty s.e.xy, sub." And she had been. Beyond anything he'd experienced before. It was Lara, he knew, but something more. It hadn't been this good for him before because he'd never had these kinds of feelings for anyone else. The realization shocked him as much as it made him uncomfortable. Shoving it aside, he said, "Let's get you out of those cuffs."

"They make me pretty helpless."

He pulled a pillow close to them then moved her head onto it. After sitting next to her, he reached for her shoulders.

She dug her heels into the mattress to help him.

He didn't have the heart to tell her that was unnecessary. He settled for, "I've got you."

Supporting her weight with his upper body, he reached around her to release the restraints. When she was free, he rubbed her wrists. "How was that?"

"The cuffs or the s.e.x?"

"Either. Both."

"If you were angling for a compliment... You can stay naked around me all the time, Mr. Donovan."

He grinned.

"And you're really, really good in bed." She brought her arms around in front of her, moving slowly as she stretched her shoulders.

"My question was really about the handcuffs," he clarified.

"I may be starting to understand what you were talking about the other day...the freedom that comes from being bound."

"Go on."

"You're the one who told me it would happen," she protested.

"But I want to hear about it from your perspective."

"Since I couldn't touch you, it was as if...I don't know. I had no choice other than to let go. It allows me to get out of my mind more. I wasn't thinking much, just enjoying all the sensations." She paused for a second as if to sort through her thoughts. "I'm not sure that makes sense. Touching you, holding you would be a whole different experience. I guess being bound gives me permission to enjoy it more. I liked it. But it doesn't mean I don't want my hands all over you."

"I promise you'll have plenty of opportunity for that." And he had a few ideas along those lines. "Let me draw you a bath. May help with those kinks."

As he entered the bathroom, she said, "d.a.m.n. Nice a.s.s."

He turned back to face her and said, "I feel the same about yours. Especially when it's red."

After he'd disposed of the condom, he turned the faucet on full blast.

A few minutes later, she joined him in the bathroom. Her hair was mussed, and she yawned. He couldn't wait to pull her against him as they slept.

She grabbed a clip and secured her hair. Then, instead of waiting for the tub to finish filling, she climbed in. She sank down and sighed. "If you can't find me, try looking here," she said. "I may never get out."

Lara closed her eyes, and he gazed at her. She still wore the necklace, and he liked the way it nestled against her skin.

Who was he fooling? He liked everything about her, from the way she tipped back her head, to her sun-bronzed shoulders, to the way her b.r.e.a.s.t.s looked with their dusky, peaked nipples.

He let her soak in peace while he showered.

When he'd finished, she was soaping her body.

He kept an eye on her while he dried off. A few stubborn tendrils of hair had escaped to curl against her cheekbones. A few others lay against her nape. He realized he liked having her in his s.p.a.ce and watching her savor the bath.

He walked over, picked up a sponge and soaked it in the water. He squeezed it out just inches over her body, rinsing the soap from her skin.

"Be very careful," she warned him. "I'm this close"-she held her thumb and index finger about an inch apart-"this close to getting spoiled."

She sat up, and he ran the sponge over her shoulders, down her back. "Getting closer," she told him. "You know, if the whole deal with you owning a moving company doesn't work out, you can apply for a position as my personal a.s.sistant."

"I'll keep that in mind." He put the sponge back on the shelf.

"Thank you." Her voice had a soft husk.

"Always," he replied. Since the water had started to chill, he offered her a towel.

Lara stepped out and he wrapped it around her.

He went into the closet to put on a pair of shorts then went back into the bedroom and waited for her.

A few minutes later, wearing a pastel pink s.h.i.+rt that barely covered her b.u.t.t, she joined him.

"I've told you I would prefer you come to bed naked."

"I..." Color drained from her face and she reached for the hem. "I thought it was just for that one night."

"Leave it on." He pulled back the covers on her side of the bed. "I'm not sure I can endure the temptation." The truth was, he'd desire her no matter what.

He turned off the light then pulled her close, spooning her. Her bare legs pressed against him. "That thing you're wearing. Is it called a no-sleep s.h.i.+rt?"

"In case you were wondering, I don't have any panties on."

"Keep up that kind of talk and I'll have to put you in a chast.i.ty belt for your own protection."

She wriggled provocatively.

f.u.c.k. It was going to be a h.e.l.l of a long night and an interesting future.

Chapter Nine.

In gentle waves, awareness crept in, and Lara spent a few moments in that blissful, unnamed s.p.a.ce between awake and asleep.

She stretched, then curled back into herself when she noticed some small aches.

That realization brought her back to consciousness and she opened her eyes. She was in Connor's bed, but she exhaled when she saw that he was gone. His pillow had a small indentation, and the covers were stamped with his spicy, masculine scent. She listened carefully, but there was no indication he was anywhere in the suite.

She forced herself up onto her elbows. The effort caused her a twinge of pain in her abdominal muscles, and she suddenly recalled the way he'd forced her to hold her legs up while he'd licked her p.u.s.s.y.

Her heart pounded and memories rushed in. The session with the single tail, shopping together, conversation, his sensual spanking and, G.o.d, the s.e.x...

Even though she tried to put a stop to them, the visions persisted, as if they were on a slideshow. She recalled the hot way he'd f.u.c.ked her, holding nothing back. Just as quickly, though, he was capable of tenderness. He'd drawn her a bath, even rinsed her off before pulling her against him in bed. She'd never met a more complex, confounding man.

It was impossible to fathom she was actually thinking about getting married to him. Though the union wouldn't last, she was recognizing that it might be impossible for her to keep her emotions under control. Getting entangled with a man who had his feelings walled off was nothing short of insane.

Unable to shake the feeling that she'd set something in motion that she had no idea how to stop, she tossed back the covers and climbed out of bed, determined to find coffee before being friendly to the day.

She heard music from down the hall, indicating he was probably working out.

Despite her own best intentions, she was drawn toward the exercise s.p.a.ce.

For a moment, he was unaware of her, and she stood in the doorway, watching him. Seventies rock music pulsed through the s.p.a.ce and he pulled the handle on the rowing machine in keeping with the tempo. He stared at the television, even though the sound was muted.

He didn't have a s.h.i.+rt on, and she saw a sheen of perspiration on his upper body. It was his shorts, though, that arrested her attention. They were compression skins, and she'd never known a man to wear them unless they were layered under something else. The black material hugged his legs and his genitals. Her heart raced so fast that she wondered if watching him work out would count toward her daily cardio goal.

Suddenly he looked over, and she was a bit embarra.s.sed to be caught staring.

"Morning," he said, his smooth pulls never faltering. "I'm almost done here."

"No hurry," she said. "The music drew me."

"Sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't." Or maybe he had, because she'd been aware of his absence.

"I made a pot of coffee for you."

"Okay, that's final. I will marry you," she said.

He grinned.

Right now, she wasn't sure which was more important, watching him or grabbing a cup of coffee.

He focused his steel-gray eyes on her. Silent promise radiated from them, simmering and pulsing even across the distance.

Her stomach plunging in antic.i.p.ation, she escaped to the kitchen.

He'd thoughtfully set out a couple of mugs, and she filled one from the thermal carafe. Instead of carrying it to the table or the living room, she simply leaned against the counter while she took the first restorative sips. There'd be time to move after the caffeine hit her bloodstream.

A couple of minutes later, he joined her. He had a towel draped over his shoulders, and he was still wearing those l.u.s.t-inducing shorts.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Never better," she admitted. It had been a long time since she'd slept the night through. Much as she was loath to admit it, his presence had helped her. Well, that and the exhaustion that had clobbered her after they'd had s.e.x. It wasn't just the physical exertion, she knew. It was the way he pushed her, emotionally, mentally, demanding trust, taking her places that she'd never been.

"Is it okay if I go near the coffeepot?" he asked. "I promise you a refill."

"Am I that scary?"

"Your refill comes before I take any," he said by way of answer.

She looked into her cup. "It's almost empty."

"There's enough for both of us," he promised.

He grabbed the carafe, and Lara moved away. As ridiculous as it seemed, there was something about starting the day together that made her feel more vulnerable.

True to his word, he topped off her mug before pouring his own.

He leaned against the stove, across from her. They were close, but not touching, and she was grateful for the distance.

"How are you doing this morning?"

"A little tender. Aware that I may need to hire a personal trainer to get me in shape to have s.e.x with you."

"Yeah. You'll want to be prepared for the acrobatics."