His to Keep (Beauty and the Brit) (18 page)

BOOK: His to Keep (Beauty and the Brit)
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Iain had been wreaking havoc on her nerves all day. She’d been on the edge of arousal since he’d instructed her to touch herself. Damp and hot and empty. After what they’d done and how her body had responded, she could only imagine how amazing it would feel once Iain was finally inside her.

So because of all that, running wasn’t even an option. Instead, she stayed put and did the opposite. Bending her legs in a seductive pose, she thrust her breasts upward. Her tits drew Iain’s attention, and his face grew tight with lust. Brynn felt sexy and beguiling. It was intoxicating.

After kicking off his shoes and toeing off his socks, Iain unbuttoned his trousers, letting them fall in a puddle at his feet, but he kept the black leather belt tight in his fist. When he removed the silk boxers, she got another view of that hard, long dick. Had it only been this afternoon when she’d sucked it and taken it deep in her mouth? Brynn bit her lip. She wanted to taste him again. In fact, she wanted to sample all of him. Because the rest of Iain’s body was every bit as compelling as his cock. His biceps were large. His thighs were well defined, too. Smooth skin, steely ropes of muscle, a delectable cock. In a word: lickable.

“Brynn.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “You keep looking at me like that, love, and it’ll be over too soon.”

Yeah, his accent was definitely thicker now. More evidence of his arousal. As if the eight inches staring her right in the face weren’t enough.

He took a step closer to the bed. “Stretch your arms above your head. I’m going to tie you up.”

Chapter 13

Brynn’s heart stuttered as she waited, struggling to breathe normally. This was what she’d always yearned for. To surrender completely to a man’s will while still feeling safe. Protected. But not just any man. Only Iain.

As he looped the belt around her wrists and wrapped it tight, his cock was right there, next to her lips. Brynn needed another taste. With the tip of her tongue, she licked across the broad head, dipping into the crevice.

Iain drew an audible breath. “I didn’t give you permission to do that, pet.” He took a half step back, just out of reach.

Nibbling her upper lip, she tilted her head, staring up into that beautiful face. “I wanted to taste you again.”

“Then ask for it.”

For once, Brynn didn’t feel embarrassed or shy. Even though she was submitting, she wasn’t powerless in this situation. Just the opposite. “Can I
please
suck your cock, Iain?”

He held himself still as his hands ceased their movements. Then the belt slackened around her wrists. “Open your mouth wider.”

He was permitting this, and he could take it away at any time. Her pussy pulsated almost to the point of pain. Her stomach muscles quivered as his gaze burned over her, so hot it was almost tangible. He may have been in control, but he wanted it as much as she did.

That afternoon’s interlude in the car had been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to Brynn, but this…this was even better. She was about to have sex with Iain Chapman, and that was nothing short of miraculous.

She opened as wide as she could, and Iain gave a shallow thrust of his hips, guiding his cock between her eager lips. While he wasn’t exactly gentle, he didn’t shove himself down her throat either.

Instead, Iain cradled the back of her head and leisurely fucked her mouth. As he slid in and out, Brynn slicked her tongue over the head every time he moved forward. Closing her eyes, she relaxed her throat, willed him to go deeper, but he remained steady. Brynn could get addicted to this—tasting Iain, sucking him dry.

When she moaned, he jerked free from her. She opened her eyes and glanced up at him.

“Enough of that, Brynnie.” He bent over her and readjusted the belt, wrapping it around her wrists before cinching it. His torso blocked out the bedside lamp. With his body cocooned around her, Brynn took a deep whiff of his chest. His arousal mixed with the heady aroma of his cologne. She wanted to wrap herself in that smell.

Before he straightened, Brynn swiped her tongue over his flat nipple. She gasped in surprise when he took a fistful of her hair and gave it a small tug. “Enough.”

Experimentally, she tried to pry her wrists apart, but they were tightly bound together, restricting her movement.

Iain used her hair as leverage and forced her head back. His eyes were dark in the muted light. “Trust me, love.”

The words calmed her and Brynn’s heart found its rhythm again.

“I’ll be right back.” He walked across the room to what she assumed was a closet. When he reemerged, he carried a blue-and-white striped tie in his hands. “I’m going to blindfold you.”

Brynn didn’t know what to think. Yes, she’d played these scenarios out in her fantasies, but this was the real deal.

“If you tell me to stop, I will,” he reminded her.

“Okay.” She lifted her head from the pillow and Iain placed the silk tie over her eyes and secured it behind her. Brynn flopped her head down and tried to adjust to the darkness. Her ears were now attuned to new noises—the click of the air-conditioning, Iain’s quiet movements.

When he lowered himself to the bed, Brynn’s breath became trapped in her throat. She flinched when Iain stroked his hand across her cheek, touched the corner of her lip, tapped his fingers over the hollow of her throat. Brynn swallowed that breath as his hand dipped lower—over her chest until finally, he cupped her breast.

“Stop,” she blurted out.

True to his word, Iain lifted his hand so that he no longer touched her. But she could feel it hovering. Still. Waiting. Heat radiated off his palm and leeched into her skin.

When Brynn inhaled, her nipple grazed Iain’s hand, but he didn’t move. Not being able to see his expression or anticipate his reaction—it was both maddening and tantalizing at the same time.

Brynn took another deep breath. Again, her nipple brushed his skin and hardened on contact, yet Iain remained immobile. For a third time, she pulled air into her lungs and held it. When she let it out, bit by bit, her breast tightened and became heavy, tingling with sensation as it dragged against him.

Brynn craved his touch. She needed to feel it again. “Go.”

As soon as the word left her mouth, Iain lowered his hand and captured her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. “Who’s in control, Brynn?”

Just hearing him say the words made her pussy clench. “You’re in total control.”

While toying with her breast, Iain leaned down and kissed her. Hard. His gentleness from earlier had dissipated, along with his patience. He wasn’t holding back now. His mouth was bruising, letting her know just exactly how close to the edge he was.

And Brynn liked it. She started to kiss him back, but he pulled away. Brynn opened her mouth to protest, to chide him for being a tease, when Iain crawled farther onto the bed and settled between her legs.

He slipped his fingers into the waistband of her panties. “Lift your bum.”

She hoisted her hips upward and Iain dragged the material down her ass, over her legs. Wrapping his hand around an ankle, he slid the silk off one foot, then the other. Now Brynn was completely naked. Constrained by Iain’s belt, her hands were useless. Blindfolded, she was at his mercy. Brynn had never been more vulnerable. She’d never been so aroused.

Iain placed his hands on her knees and parted them. Prying her legs open, he rubbed his stubble against her inner thigh. “Look how pretty your pussy is. Plump and pink. So very lovely.” He let go of one knee and using his fingers, spread her outer lips. “And wet.”

Brynn felt so light-headed, she was afraid she might pass out and miss all the good parts.

“What do you think, Brynn, should I lick you or finger you again?”

“Um, both?”

“Greedy girl.” Then he slid two fingers inside of her.

Brynn moaned as he pumped them in and out. With a torque of her hips, she met his next thrust, but as soon as she did, Iain withdrew his fingers.

“No moving, love. These are my rules.”

Panting, Brynn tried to remain still, but she felt empty without him—empty and aching. Still, she clung to silence, obeying him.

After a long minute, he said, “You’re going to hold still now.”

Brynn clenched her hands into fists. “Yes.”

“Good.”

He flicked her clit and Brynn fought a squirm. She bit her lower lip and willed herself to remain motionless.

Then, instead of continuing where he’d left off, he grasped her waist and glided his hands up to her breasts, gently squeezing the undersides, leaving her starved-for-
affection nipples alone. He continued to torture her.
Squeeze, then ease off.
He did it over and over. It was exasperating, and Brynn bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

Then, finally, Iain moved his hands up and pinched her nipples, pulling them, rolling them between his fingers.

Brynn let out a long moan. Yes, this was what she needed.

“You like that. Now, thank me nicely, Brynn.”

“Thank you, Iain.” The words were torn from her. She couldn’t take an even breath. She was a quivering mass of desire.

Lowering his head, he lapped his tongue over one swollen nipple, replacing his fingers with his mouth. That was good. So freaking good. Every time he licked at her breast, her clit throbbed. It was swollen too. Achy and heavy, her pussy begged for mercy.

Brynn fought against the tidal wave of desire coursing through her. Her sensory nerves were on overload. Her skin felt too tight, too sensitive. She couldn’t see a thing. Iain had instructed her not to move. Frustration filled every part of her.

She wanted to come again. Wanted his hand on her mound, his fingers buried deep inside of her. And it dawned on Brynn that he was in charge of her orgasm. Whether he penetrated her. Whether he left her like this—pent up, in sexual distress. But he wouldn’t, and that’s why she trusted him. All Brynn had to do was enjoy it.

In that moment, she stopped pulling against the belt and relaxed. She focused on the pleasure, the feel of his teeth scraping over her nipple. She became more vocal too, groaning loudly each time he suckled.

Time had no meaning. Brynn was lost to the mind-blowing, skin-tingling sensations. She didn’t know how long Iain worked her tits. Occasionally, he’d switch, covering the other one with his mouth. He’d move his hands over her ribs and dig his fingers into her hips. He wasn’t in a hurry. And Brynn couldn’t have moved him along if she tried—because he had the power right then, and she was his willing captive.

By the time Iain lifted his head, Brynn was past frustration. Her brain had shut off some time ago, and her body was ragged, exhausted, needy.

“You’ve got amazing tits, Brynn.” Using his tongue, Iain licked his way down the middle of her chest, over her stomach, over her mons. Brynn cried out as he swirled that talented tongue around her clit.

Carefully, he parted Brynn’s folds. “Beautiful,” he muttered. His warm breath danced along Brynn’s slit, slick with moisture. Even that felt exotic.

But Iain didn’t lick her, as she expected. Grasping her inner labia between his thumb and forefinger, he worried it, then tugged on it, as he had her nipple. She’d never felt anything like it. Pure pleasure.

Another loud groan escaped her. “Iain.” Each move of his fingers wound her tighter, higher. The storm from that afternoon grew inside her and gathered momentum. Brynn clenched her stomach muscles and tried really hard not to move, but she couldn’t help an involuntary jerk of her hips.

Iain didn’t chastise her. Or punish her. Instead, he rewarded her by lapping her clitoris, then pulling it between his lips. That combination of rubbing and sucking sent her over the edge.

Brynn’s orgasm rocked her hard, from the top of her spine down to her toes. “Iain.” No waves of pleasure this time—her entire body seized up as she came. It slammed into her all at once with a violent force that didn’t stop, didn’t subside. She tried to pull her hands apart as her muscles tightened, but the belt kept them in place.

It seemed to go on forever and Iain never let up, never gave her a breather, but continued at a steady pace. Brynn curled her fingers inward, digging her short nails into her palms as she rode it out.

Finally, with her clit continuing to twitch against his tongue, her muscles relaxed. She tried to catch her breath, but she was spent, still high but floating downward.

Iain gave her one more lick and released her labia. “I made you come again, Brynn Campbell.”

“At the risk of inflating your ego, that was amazeballs.”

He stretched his body over hers, his dick thick and heavy against her hip. “That’s possibly the oddest thing I’ve ever heard.” He kissed her lightly, his tongue following the seam of her lips.

Then Iain moved off the bed. With her eyes still covered, Brynn was tempted to doze off. Sated, her legs became limp and she briefly bent her elbows to relieve the stiffness in her arms. Her heart finally returned to its normal rhythm.

Brynn heard a drawer open, heard the crinkle of a foil wrapper. “Wait.”

He ceased moving.

“Can I watch you?” Brynn had that dopey, giddy feeling, like she’d slammed one shot too many.

“Watch me do what, love?”

“Touch yourself.”

“Don’t know if I can hold out if I do that.” He placed his hands on her face, then slipped the tie over her head.

Brynn blinked against the light and squinted her eyes. With her wrists still tied, she lowered her arms and sat up. “But you’re in control.” She smiled as she said it.

“You’re trying to do me in, aren’t you?”

“Please, Iain?” She hadn’t known she could pull off a seductive voice until that moment. Husky and pleading, that tone was all sex kitten. “Just a stroke or two?”

He looked as if he were about to say no, but then his eyes roamed over her face. “All right.”

Iain stood and faced the bed. “Come here so you can have a good, long look.”

Brynn rose to her knees and moved closer to the edge of the bed. “Will you show me how you do it? Tight grip or loose?”

Iain closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “Tight.” He grasped his dick at the base and stroked up to the tip, then back down. The tendons in his neck distended, his abs bunched together, but he held on to his self-control. Up and down, with even movements, he jerked himself. The tip became redder, the veins along the shaft more pronounced. Occasionally, he’d clench his ass and thrust his hips forward. It was beyond erotic. She longed to touch him like that, take him to the brink with
her
hand.

When he abruptly stopped, he stared down at her. His expression hardened, his lips thinned. “Enough of this. I’m going to shag you now, Brynn.” He rolled the condom over his stiff shaft. “Turn around, bend over, and keep your knees together.”

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