Rachel woke up in a strange bed, reached out for Chase, and found the sheets cool. She blinked her eyes open to confirm what her other senses told her, that she was alone. An unexpected pang of uncertainty hit her and she sat up, pulling the covers with her. From her upright position, she could see out of the open loft to the wall of windows on that side of the A-frame cabin that looked out over the Hood Canal, now illuminated by the nearly full moon. The view made her catch her breath. Water and the wooded landscape on the far side of it made a stunning panorama. In the full light of day, it would be even more striking.
The sound of a door opening and closing downstairs was followed by heavy footsteps and a thudding noise as Chase dumped an armload of logs into the woodbox by the fireplace. Well, that explained where he'd gone. He must've wanted to make sure there was enough wood to keep the fire going through the night.
She heard the rhythmic steps that told her Chase was climbing the stairs to her and felt her wavering uncertainty clutch into self-conscious shyness. She started to remember everything they'd said and done, and by the time Chase came into view, her face was burning as hot as the fireplace.
He stopped short at the sight of her, sitting up with the covers clutched to her chest and her cheeks flaming. "Hey."
He was dressed in jeans and a sweater. Whatever shoes he'd worn out to get firewood had been left downstairs since he wore only socks. He looked masculine and imposing
and far too attractive. While she probably looked as though her hair had been slept in, since it had, and she wore nothing but blankets.
Rachel opened her mouth wordlessly and then closed it again, unable to form any sort of response. Not knowing what else to do, she fell back and pulled the covers over her head.
"Rachel." Chase came closer and tugged at the covers. She held on and burrowed into the pillow, wondering where her inner wild woman had gone. The Rachel who had acted out her fantasies with pure abandon had disappeared and left the Rachel who always did the responsible thing to hold the bag, apparently.
"Rachel. Come out of there."
"No."
"You're embarrassed."
"You think?" Her voice came out in a half shriek. "Oh, my God. You did—and I liked—and I said—." The words tumbled over one another incoherently, and she gave up.
"Rachel." He pulled at the covers again and she let go, recognizing the futility of hiding under them forever. He drew them down to her waist and looked at her bared breasts. "Nice."
Rachel shook her hair forward to cover them. Chase slid one hand under the screening fall of hair and found her nipple, tweaking it. "Are we playing hide-and-seek? Bet I can find something else interesting hiding in here."
Before she could block him, he threw the covers all the way back with his free hand. He cupped and squeezed her breast while his other hand wedged in between her thighs
and burrowed forward until his thumb nudged her clit. "Just like I thought. Very interesting." His thumb rubbed up and down over the sensitive bud, and Rachel jumped.
"Open your legs for me, Rachel."
"Chase, I can't. I feel so stupid."
"You feel sexy to me, not stupid." Chase found her opening with one fingertip and probed inside her.
She groaned. "You're trying to make me feel better about this."
"That, and I like looking at you naked almost as much as I like touching you. Open your legs for me, Rachel. Let me see your pretty pussy. Or do I have to spank you again?"
She made a strangled sound and let her knees move apart, not all the way, but complying enough to show him what he wanted to see.
"Watch, Rachel. See how beautiful you are, how sexy."
His thumb circled her clit as he slowly buried his finger inside her, drew it back out, and plunged it in again. Rachel watched him do it, feeling exposed and unsure and turned on despite it. He pinched her nipples in turns, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get her attention, and she felt the response in her womb as everything tightened. Her sex clenched around his finger as it penetrated her.
"I could do this for hours." Chase pushed a second and then a third finger inside her, wiggling them until she squirmed into his hand in reaction.
"Your hand would probably cramp," she muttered. She was enjoying it in spite of herself, in spite of her mental discomfort, and half hoped he'd keep going. It was starting to feel really interesting. She realized with a jolt that he could
coax her into orgasm without much more trouble, when she'd been hiding under the blankets from him minutes before.
"You won't last long enough for that." Chase gave her a knowing look, and Rachel felt her cheeks burn with renewed embarrassment. "Want to come again?"
She must've taken too long to answer him while she thought it over, making him think she needed to be convinced, because he lowered his head to her breast and sucked hard at her nipple while his fingers continued to play her sex. It felt too good. Rachel dropped her head back and let her legs fall open all the way. "Yes."
"That's the right answer," he said, letting her nipple slide out of his mouth. "I like making my pretty naked captive come."
Making her come again was something he could do all too easily, she realized. He'd seduced her from hiding under the covers to lying naked and splayed open for him while he played her body like a master. And he'd done it so quickly, arousing her all over again so completely. That unnerved her, but it felt too good to want to stop.
You deserve this, just this once
, she told herself, pushing aside the fear that said she was losing control and losing herself to the fantasy.
"Ask me to make you come, Rachel."
She drew in a shuddering breath. "Make me come, Chase. Please."
Chase felt his blood rush from the picture she made. Rachel with her hair sleep-tousled, her nipples swollen from his attention, her sex soft and wet and giving as he worked her with his hand. This aroused, sensual woman was such a contrast to the controlled, cool image she presented to the world.
She was still clinging to a vestige of self-control as anxiously as she'd clung to the blankets, but he was going to rip it away from her and send her skidding into erotic abandon. He wouldn't stop until he'd erased every vestige of the anxiety that had sent her burrowing under the blankets with pleasure. She wasn't hiding just from him, she was hiding from herself, from who she was and what she wanted. While she belonged to him, he wasn't going to allow that.
"Touch your breasts, Rachel."
"What?" She blinked at him, as if unsure she'd heard him right.
"Put your hands on your breasts. Roll your nipples between your fingers. Show me how sexy your pretty tits are,
how hot it makes you when they're stimulated." He pressed lightly against her clit as he continued to pump her with his fingers.
She put her hands to her breasts, her movements hesitant. Her fingertips brushed over her nipples, and she gave him an uncertain look.
"Yes. Just like that." He leaned forward and nipped at the curve of one breast. "Do you masturbate, Rachel?"
"Well . . . you know. I have a vibrator." She cupped her hands over her breasts and looked down, her hair falling forward.
"Are you more comfortable with your body when you're alone? Do you touch yourself when you get yourself off, or do you just let the vibrator touch you?"
"Um. Pretty much, well, it's not like I spend a lot of time practicing my technique." She shot him a disgruntled look, and Chase grinned back, pleased to have gotten a rise out of her.
"Practice now. I'm ordering you to. You're my captive, you have no choice. Play with your pretty breasts, Rachel. Feel how soft they are, how smooth, how hard your little nipples are."
Chase felt her inner muscles grip his invading fingers, felt her lubrication increasing, and knew that whatever mental barrier she'd run into, physically she was having no problems.
It had been a mistake to let her wake up alone. She had no experience with playing these kinds of games, and her own lack of inhibitions had surprised her. He should have predicted that she'd react by trying to pull back from him. He didn't intend to let her.
Rachel touched herself at his command, exploring her breasts, the curves, cupping and lifting them, squeezing. She rolled her distended nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, and he saw her eyes widen with pleasure and surprise. Her self-consciousness gave way to natural grace, her hands falling into a rhythm that mirrored his as he took her with his fingers. Her breath came faster and her back arched as she rocked into his hand. "Chase . . ."
"You want to come all over my fingers, don't you, pretty Rachel?"
"Yes." She pinched her nipples hard and moved her hips with increased urgency. "God. Chase."
"Just Chase is good enough."
She let out a surprised laugh that turned into a moan as he bent his head and tongued her clit while keeping up the tempo of his thrusting fingers. She nearly came off the bed, and he felt a primitive surge of satisfaction at the strength of her response.
Chase flicked his tongue over the tight bud of her clit again and again, determined to drive her further than she thought she could go. He felt her writhing and shuddering, heard her gasps and moans, and knew she was right on the brink. He withdrew one finger from her. It was coated with natural lubrication that he rubbed over the puckered rose of her anus once before sliding the tip of it into the tight opening.
"Chase," Rachel wailed. He felt her sex spasm, clamping down tight on his fingers. "More."
He sucked her clit hard, plunged his finger fully into her ass, and twisted the fingers buried in her until she broke and bucked wildly, coming apart for him, coming in a rush.
She fell back panting, legs splayed. Chase felt a wave of fierce, possessive satisfaction at the sight of her sprawling boneless in the aftermath of pleasure he'd given her. She deserved it. She'd given him everything he'd asked for without restraint. He'd demanded that she give herself to him, and she had. The completeness of her surrender made his neatly ordered world tilt on its axis.
He kissed the delicate skin of her belly and felt it quiver under his mouth. "Be right back," he murmured against her stomach. "Don't move."
"Couldn't if I wanted to," she said, waving a limp hand at him.
Chase used the adjoining bathroom to clean up, then stoppered the tub and let it fill while he rejoined Rachel in the bedroom. She hadn't moved, as ordered. He leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Feeling better now?"
"Well. More relaxed physically, anyway." She looked up at him. "Mentally? Emotionally? Hard to say."
"What upset you?" He sat beside her, his hip bumping up against hers, and took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb in lazy patterns on her palm.
"I don't know. It's not that we don't know each other. That actually makes it easier. I think it's because, well, I'm not like this."
Chase fought to keep a straight face. "Who bought the whipped cream? Who picked out the neon latex rainbow?"
Rachel bit her lip. "I
wanted
to be like this. I wanted to be the kind of woman who had fun sex, who did something unexpected."
"I have news for you." Chase lifted her hand to his lips
and planted a kiss in the center of her palm. "You are like this."
She shook her head. "I'm not. I'm boring, Chase. This naked handcuffs thing is not me."
"Yes, it is. Who you are in bed is who you are, Rachel. If this wasn't you, you wouldn't have had a good time." He placed her hand against his chest, cupping his over it to keep it there, and studied her for a minute while he considered his next words. How could she be so blind to something that was so clear to him? "Maybe your self-image needs a little readjusting."
She frowned, doubt and disbelief plain on her face. "That would take a lot of readjusting."
"I'm up for it." He kissed her because he wanted to and because he could, then stood and tugged her up by her hand. "Come on."
He led her into the bathroom and watched as she climbed into the tub. Part of him wanted to get naked and join her in there. That part was half-hard and straining against his zipper. Better to think with his head than his dick if he wanted to keep the ground he'd just regained, though. Instinct told him this was not the time to push.
"Relax and soak. When you're ready, there's a robe hanging behind the door. Put it on and come join me downstairs."
"I could just get dressed." She gave him an uncertain look. "You are."
"I got dressed because I had to go outside for wood." Chase leaned forward and feathered a row of kisses along her forehead and then placed one on the tip of her nose. "I
don't want you to get dressed, Rachel. I don't want you to leave yet. Do you trust me?"
"Yes," she answered without hesitation. A surge of relief caught him by surprise, and he realized her answer was much more important to him than he'd expected. He wanted her trust, wanted her, and not just for a weekend. Which meant he'd have to show her what he wanted and hope it was enough to convince her they had something real when he told her the truth.
"Come downstairs when you're done in here, and leave your clothes where they are."