Nobody's Angel (17 page)

Marc sucked her tongue into his mouth, released her, then invaded her mouth again. When he pulled his tongue out to let her breathe, he captured her lower lip between his teeth and tugged, once again looking deep into her eyes. She released a breathless gasp. Not wanting to reveal whatever he was reading in her eyes any longer, she closed them. He bit her lip indicating his displeasure, not breaking the skin but hard enough to sting, bringing tears to her eyes. She opened her eyes again and he smiled in victory.

His hand skimmed teasingly down her jaw, over her blouse leaving a wake of gooseflesh, only to grasp her nipple through the fabric and roll it hard between his fingers, sending her hips jolting upward in response.

Angelina pulled away, panting, and stared into the deep green pools of his eyes. Her chin burned where his whiskers had abraded her skin. Chest heaving, she tried to regain control, as if she ever could have control in this man’s presence.

He released her and pulled away.

“Wow. How did you do that?”

He laughed. “Do what, pet?”

“Go all Dom like that. Take control.”
Turn me on more than I’ve ever been before
.

Gentle now, his thumb stroked her cheek, avoiding the area where Allen struck her. He brushed his thumb pad over her swollen lower lip, sending more jolts to her pussy. She realized his hand still held her head by the hair and her clit responded as if touched.

“Did you like that?”

Well, hell to the yes, I did. “I’m not submissive.”

“Answer the question.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She felt her face go hot and glanced away.

“Look at me.” He waited until she complied and she was powerless to do anything else. “Why does being submissive scare you so,
cara
?”

“I trusted someone once. He…broke that trust.”

“He wasn’t worthy of your trust. Will you trust me to help you break free from that memory?”

Trust him? A knot formed in her chest. Allen had ruined her for being able to trust any man again. Even someone she was attracted to, like Marc. Tears burned her eyelids.

“Look at me,
bella.
”

How many times had he called her beautiful? Maybe he just meant her face. She knew she had a pretty face because she’d been told so all her life. But her body wasn’t beautiful by any stretch.

So how could she trust Marc? Her brothers had told her since Papa died that men wanted one thing—sex—and they would say whatever they had to in order to get it. Was Marc just trying to get her into bed?

Oh, God! She realized where she was sitting with him. And how she’d nearly stripped him and had her way with him a moment ago. She wanted Marc. But not as Sir Marc or Master Marc or whatever a Dom was called in real life. She wanted him because she was attracted to him.

“Your mind is going a mile a minute. Look at me.”

His command sent butterflies in frenzied flight in her tummy and she met his gaze once more, with reluctance. Oh God, she didn’t want him to be displeased with her, but knew she couldn’t do what he asked. “I don’t know you well enough to trust you.”

He smiled, his moss-green eyes lighting up. “Good girl.” Puzzled by his unexpected response, she waited until he explained. “Trust has to be earned over time. We’re just getting to know each other. But we
have
developed some trust. You invited me into your home. You let me hold you in my lap—albeit with some token resistance.” He grinned, and she responded in kind.

She hadn’t really thought about it that way, but he was right. He hadn’t raised her hackles or her radar. Of course, neither had Allen. So, maybe her radar was on the fritz. Still, she’d learned to be cautious.

“I’d like to help you regain your ability to trust, whether it’s for Luke or someone else, if you’ll let me.”

Her heart thrummed against her chest. He didn’t promise anything in the future with him. Only tonight. “Just what did you have in mind?”

“A demonstration.”

He wanted her to be a guinea pig? Okay, this set a few warning bells off.

“I want to explore something with you tonight. I will not inflict any pain you do not agree to or break the trust you place in me.”

He paused as she considered his words and she bit the inside of her lower lip.
Well, she certainly wouldn’t agree to any pain whatsoever
.

“Do you remember how you flew apart for us in the living room?”

“How could I forget coming like that?”

“No, not
that
you came, but
how
you came?”

She creased her brow. “Sorry, I was too busy coming to overanalyze it.”

He smiled.

Her insides melted and she grinned back.

Then he grew serious again. He stroked her cheek, the one Allen hadn’t hit. When he smiled at her again, she felt her tummy turn to jelly.

“I believe you’re sexually submissive, pet.”

She grew stiff and pulled away from his hand. What was he talking about? No way! She fought the urge to run to the mirror to see if “SUBMISSIVE” was stamped across her forehead. She was an assertive business woman. She lived independently and was in charge of everything in her life. Hadn’t she even tackled Allen tonight, leaving him bloodied and achingly sore? No, definitely not submissive. How could he even think such a thing?

Besides, she’d already explored submission with Allen, and it was the worst sexual experience she’d ever had. Angelina pulled out of his arms and to her feet.

“I don’t need cuffs and floggers to get aroused. Last night, I came with Luke because I was stimulated out of my ever-loving mind.” She didn’t want to analyze the experience on the sofa now either. “It wouldn’t have been any different if I were restrained.”

“Oh, but you
were
restrained last night. Think back.”

Angelina had no idea what he was talking about. She definitely would have noticed if she’d been tied down. She tried to replay what had taken place in the living room. For one, she’d never been so responsive with anyone before in her life. Images flickered across her mind’s eye of having her arms placed above her head by Marc. Okay, sure, he’d ordered her to keep them there, but he hadn’t used ropes or cuffs or anything to restrain them. She could have moved them anytime she wanted to. In fact, she
had
moved them, to stop Luke at one point.

Then she remembered that Marc had sternly ordered her to return her hands behind her head and she’d complied without question, just as she complied to his orders a few minutes ago. When she’d tried to move her hips to get Luke to lick her clit where she’d wanted or nearly kicked him as a ticklish response, even Luke had restrained her by holding her thighs in a way that made it impossible for her to move. Was Luke a Dom, too? Her heart pounded at the implications. Did they run in packs or something?

“But Luke didn’t force me to give anything I didn’t want to give. He even stopped when I screamed for him to do so.”

Marc closed his eyes a moment and sighed. When he opened them again, he took on a patient demeanor, as if teaching a child. She should find that very offensive, shouldn’t she?

“Being submissive doesn’t mean you need or want to be taken by force. It might, but isn’t a requirement. The Dom/sub or Top/bottom relationship actually is an extremely consensual one. You would discuss what acts you will—and will not—be experiencing with your Dom or Top in advance of a scene. You’ll discuss the limits you’re willing to allow as a submissive.”

He paused. Waiting.

Submissive? She couldn’t get beyond that word. Bottom didn’t sound much better. Marc couldn’t be right. Could he? She looked back at him. He seemed to be waiting for her to catch up with him.

“Your sexual release can be heightened when you are with the right Dom.”

“I don’t want another Dom.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever had a real Dom. I think you were with someone who used BDSM to mask his abusive nature.”

She couldn’t explain to him what had happened with Allen, not only because of the embarrassment of putting herself in such a position, but because it would just add fuel to the fire. She had a feeling Marc was ready to beat Allen to a pulp. Knowledge of what happened in Denver would just put him over the top.

Marc seemed to come to some decision. “Go to the bathroom and wash your pussy, thoroughly dry yourself, then come back here and lie on the bed.”

Where was he going with this? If this was his idea of a great way to get this woman into bed, he wasn’t as sexy as she thought. He waited for her to move, rather than guiding or forcing her to do so.

Okay, fine. She’d humor him, then prove him wrong. She went to the bathroom and did as he’d ord…no, suggested, then came back into the bedroom and plopped onto the edge of the bed, sitting upright.

“I said lie down.”

His tone let her know he was displeased with her. Now why did that cause her stomach to knot? “Sorry.” Wanting to get beyond this silly demonstration, experiment, or whatever it was—and certainly
not
because she was submissive—she did as he instructed. Scooting to the middle of the bed, she reclined and waited for him to join her.

“Open for me,
cara
.”

Not knowing exactly what he wanted her to open, she gave him a quizzical expression until his gaze went pointedly to her legs, which tingled as if he’d touched them. She raised her knees with some hesitation, then her legs spread open for him, as if she no longer had control over them. How had he gotten her to obey so easily, with a few words and a glance?

Marc pulled the hem of her skirt up over her knees, her thighs, her hips. Heat suffused her face. She wasn’t used to being so exposed. His fingers touched her pussy as if inspecting her. “Good girl.”

She hated how her body responded to his praise as if she were a dog and he had just pet her on the top of the head for bringing him his newspaper or something. If she could wag her tail, she would. She stifled a giggle.

Before she could anticipate what would happen next, he lay down beside her—fully clothed, as she was. Well, more or less. Feeling exposed, she pulled her legs back together.

“I did not say you could move your legs, pet.”

Her heart pounded against her chest, and her knees fell open again as if pulled by invisible marionette strings. Okay, that was just weird. Why didn’t he make a move? She waited for him to touch her or to tell her where he wanted her to touch him, but he simply propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her, staring at her face. After a few moments of scrutiny, she began to squirm.

“You are such a beautiful woman.
Bellissima
.”

Angelina looked away, uncomfortable with his words. For whatever reason, Marc and Luke hadn’t noticed her added pounds or that she didn’t have…

“Do not contradict me, pet.”

Her gaze flew back to his, her heart pounding in her ears. He wasn’t happy with her now. “I didn’t say…”

“You didn’t have to speak. Your body is very expressive, especially your eyes.” His finger stroked her face from temple to chin. “If a man says you are beautiful,
cara
, what gives you the right to disagree with him?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Since we were at the bar Friday night, you have made faces every time Luke or I complimented your beauty, your body, your breasts. You have, in effect, called us liars.”

She propped herself up on her elbows. “No! I didn’t mean to…”

“Lie down, unless I tell you to move.”

Her stomach quivered at his firm tone and she plopped back down onto the mattress. He reached out and brushed the hair away from her face. “
Cara
, believe me when I say that a man could become lost in your eyes and never wish to be found again. Your gorgeous breasts fill my hand and are so damned responsive to my touch.” To demonstrate, he cupped her breast, brushing his thumb over her nipple, which sprang to life. “You have the most delicious curves,” he continued, letting his hand roam over her waist to her well-padded hip. “I could spend a lifetime worshiping your body and never grow tired.”

Tears burned the backs of her eyes. She couldn’t express how his words made her feel. Marc and Luke both appreciated her just the way she was, extra pounds and all. So what if they weren’t the norm in American culture. They both wanted her. A tear trickled from her eye and traced its way to her ear.

When Marc lowered his head toward hers, she closed her eyes, expecting his kiss. Instead, his tongue followed the path of her tear, as if to take her hurt away. He pulled back and she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. After scrutinizing her long enough to make her squirm again, he lowered his face toward hers once more and she closed her eyes, waiting for him to kiss her. Nothing. She opened her eyes and found he hovered just above her face, his gaze boring into hers.

“What is it you need,
cara
?” he whispered.

She forced her body to relax, even though he was invading her personal space—and not in a comfortable way. “Nothing. I just thought…you…” She wasn’t used to expressing her wants or needs. “I just thought you were going to kiss me.”

“What is it you need?” he repeated. “If you aren’t submissive, then tell me what you do need. What you want even.”

Well, for one thing, she didn’t want to be called a submissive. What was he trying to prove with this demonstration? Or had it even started? All they were doing was talking. Maybe he was waiting for her to take the initiative. Well, she could do that. Reaching up, she put her hand behind the back of his head and pulled him toward her again. Her tongue pressed against his closed mouth, trying to force him to open his lips to let her gain entrance. At first, he refused, just as her angel-man-wolf had done.

Eager to show him just how assertive she could be, she pressed harder until at last he opened for her. She entangled her tongue with his. After what seemed forever, his tongue answered hers, stroke for stroke. She fanned her fingertips down his neck and across his shoulders. His muscles strained against his shirt. What would he look like naked?

His hand returned to her breast, gently massaging the flesh through her blouse.
Pull my nipples again, Marc
. But he didn’t read her mind and she waited in vain. Hoping to show him the needs she couldn’t express verbally, she reached out and pinched his nipple, feeling the hard pebble through his shirt become even harder. Yet he continued to touch her breasts in an almost reverent way. This so was not what she wanted or needed.