Temptation’s Edge (14 page)

Because he
had
to, suddenly, he whispered to her, “You’ve turned my head but good, my girl. If I’m to be perfectly honest with myself—something I know damn well I don’t always do—it happened almost right away.

“You’re absolutely the kind of woman a man can have an evening of fun with, whether sex or dungeon play or both. I hardly judge you for that. I’ve never seen anything wrong in sex for the sake of sex. The pleasures of the flesh are one of the things that makes life worth living. I think you understand that as well as I do. I don’t understand all the rules people put on how and when it’s acceptable to indulge.” He paused, checked her loose features carefully, listened to her even, shallow breathing to make sure she was still asleep before he went on. “My only rule, in the end, is that no one gets hurt. Not in terms of the pain play I prefer—and there’s a difference between hurting someone for pleasure and doing damage to them.”

Then leave the girl alone.

He took in a long breath, held it in his lungs until it burned.

“I
will
hurt you, damn it. That’s certain, if I don’t walk away soon enough. Even a girl as tough as you, as strong as you, can be hurt. Damaged. I can’t fucking stand the idea of doing that to you. Not you. But I can’t tell you all this to your face. Which makes me a fucking coward, doesn’t it?”

He breathed out a long sigh. He had to be honest with her. To make sure she understood what he was and was not capable of.
Even if she was just in it for the sex, the BDSM play. He owed it to her to be clear. He owed it to himself to keep her safe.

To keep her safe from
him
.

He ran an agitated hand over his chin, rubbing the stubble there.

They just needed to talk, despite the fact that he really didn’t want to. To have it all out on the table. They didn’t have to stop what they were doing. As long as he told her…

She moaned, her long lashes fluttering open, then her brilliant blue eyes were staring up at him.

“Hey,” she said, her voice a little rough.

“Hey yourself.” Had she heard his mutterings? He didn’t think so. “How do you feel?”

“Sore. But really wonderful.”

She smiled, wiggled in his lap, this warm, naked girl under the blanket. Nice. Making him go hard all over again, his mental meanderings taking a backseat.

He grinned down at her. “You’re still high on the endorphins.”

“Yes. I like it. No crash this time. Or, not so far.”

“Are you hungry?”

She shook her head, and he reached up and unpinned her hair, watched it fall down around her shoulders, ran a hand through it. Like fucking silk.

“What do you need?” he asked her.

“Nothing, right now. What do
you
need?”

“Ah, don’t tempt me, girl.”

“I mean to.”

She squirmed some more, her naked sex settling right over his growing erection.

“Did I say you could do that?”

“Not yet.”

She was grinning, an impish sort of grin. He knew she wasn’t
completely out of subspace, but he liked this playfulness. Then her face sobered and she dropped the blanket, baring her gorgeous breasts. She cupped them in her hands, lifting them.

She said, her voice very low, “I’m asking again, Connor. What do you need?”

He groaned. His cock pulsed.

“Come on, then, and suck me. Right here. In front of all these people.”

She slid down to her knees before him, unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock, held it in her hot little hand. She glanced up at him and he nodded.

“Do it, Mischa. Now.”

She bent, her hair falling across his thighs, and he had one moment to wish he was feeling it on his naked skin. Then her mouth closed over the head of his cock and his mind emptied.

“Ah…”

She let her tongue swirl over the head of his cock, slip into the opening, something he loved and few women ever thought to do. Then she curled her tongue around the tip again, again and again. She was working only the swollen head, her fingers light on the rigid shaft, driving him crazy. Crazier still when she pulled away, blew a soft, hot breath onto the tip, then enveloped him with her mouth once more.

Pleasure surged into him, his balls pulling tight. He wanted to pump up into her hot, wet mouth, to fuck her mouth. But he also wanted to see what she might do. To let her torture him a little.

She kept using her tongue on him, swirling, dipping. When she finally slid her mouth all the way down the length of him, all at once, he groaned aloud.

“Ah, Christ, that’s good.”

She took him deep into her throat, paused, took him deeper. Then she began to move.

He pushed her hair from her face, held it back so he could watch her pretty mouth sliding up and down on his cock. Desire was like fire in his veins, building, building. Pleasure was even hotter, all driven by her lips and tongue. So damn wet, her mouth.

She began to suck.

“Ah…”

He could feel the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat, and she kept stroking the underside with her tongue even as she sucked him hard. So hard he was on that keen edge of pain. Fucking gorgeous, the way this woman gave head. Fucking perfect. The sight of her plush red lips taking him in…he could barely stand it. Could barely stand not to thrust right into her, to choke her a little with his cock, something he loved. But he knew if he did it now he’d come too soon.

To calm himself he glanced up, looked around the room, caught sight of the people watching them. A couple at the play station next to them, the dom standing next to his girl, who was on a spanking bench. The dom caught his eye, gave a small approving nod, and Connor’s excitement spiraled. He looked further, found a threesome—a man and two women—doing nothing but standing there to watch. The women were smiling.

He couldn’t help himself now. He looked back at Mischa’s pale blonde head, grasped her hair in his hands, pushed deep into her throat. She took it, swallowing him down.

“Ah, that’s perfect, darlin’. Yes…”

He was going to come soon. And she damn well
was
perfect: her wet, sucking mouth, her gorgeous hair, the way she worked his cock. The fact that she had no inhibitions about sucking him off in front of the crowd.

He pulled her hair tight enough to hurt and there was a quiet, muffled moan from her. Then he was doing it, fucking her mouth in hard, punishing thrusts. And right as he was about to come,
she reached into his jeans and pinched a small bit of skin at the base of his sac between her fingers, sending him hurtling over the edge.

“Christ…Fuck, Mischa! Fuck…”

He was coming in ripples; it wouldn’t stop. And she drank him in, swallowing his come down her lovely throat, sucking him to the end.

When his body calmed he let go of his grip on her hair. She pulled back, his still-hard cock slipping from her red lips. She looked up at him, her eyes the bluest he’d ever seen.

Christ, this woman.

Mine.

For now, maybe. Only for now.

But
now
was fucking perfect. He couldn’t think of anything else.

Connor was parking at his place after getting her dressed, bundling her into his Hummer. She didn’t remember much about the short drive—nothing more than feeling incredibly relaxed. Sated but still excited, needing more. She hadn’t been sure where they were going until she’d asked him, and he’d told her he didn’t think she was ready to be back at Dylan’s place alone.

She didn’t think so, either. She was aware that she was still floating, that she hadn’t really come down yet. And that she wasn’t ready for him to be done with her. She’d been too pleased at his response to her. Too taken with the sense of power she’d had with his cock in her mouth and him groaning, his fingers buried in her hair.

She was still feeling it now, how pleasure equalized them. She’d had some sense of it before, watching his face as he came inside her. But tonight she felt it so much more. As though he’d
let down some walls in letting her take over, set the pace, bring him to climax by
her
actions, by what
she
chose to do to him.

He got out of the car, came around to open her door and helped her out.

“Let’s get you upstairs.”

He kept an arm at her waist, as he always did. She loved it. And that part of her that hated to admit how much she enjoyed his sense of protectiveness was growing more and more quiet the more she was with him.

He helped her up the stairs. Her legs felt a bit shaky, but in a good way. She couldn’t explain to herself what that meant, only that she felt damn good.

He opened the door and they moved inside.

“Are you cold?” he asked. “I’ll turn up the heat. You’re hardly dressed under that coat.”

She started to slip out of it. “I’m warm enough.”

“Some tea, then?”

She smiled. “Is it the Irish in you that offers a girl tea?”

“Don’t you drink tea?”

“I do.”

“Well then, Irish or not…” He shrugged as he accepted her coat and hung it in a small hall closet. “The kitchen is this way.”

He seemed a little out of sorts, suddenly. She wasn’t sure why. Or maybe she really was coming down now and she wasn’t seeing things clearly.

“I’d actually love some tea,” she said to his retreating back. “Oh, this kitchen is great.”

It had obviously been redone recently. The walls were spare white, long rectangles of sleek pale green subway tiles on the counters and on the backsplash behind the stove. The appliances were all black, the curtains at the window white with a wide black border. Very masculine.

“I’m glad you like it. I made Alec help me set tiles over the summer.”

He smiled as he spoke, and she relaxed again. Maybe that tense moment had been her imagination after all.

“Here, sit down.”

He guided her to a small built-in nook with a white finished table and black padded benches. She watched as he busied himself around the kitchen: turning on an electric teakettle, setting a pair of black-and-white plaid napkins on the table, a white sugar bowl. The kettle whistled when it boiled, and he poured, bringing a pair of black mugs back to the table.

He sat down across from her and she found herself wishing he’d squeezed onto the small bench seat next to her. She glanced at him as he spooned sugar into his cup, then placed her hands around her tea mug. She was being ridiculous. He was right there. He’d invited her into his apartment. Everything was fine. This was just a little bottoming out. She was fine.

“How are you feeling? Come down yet?”

“I think so.”

“That’s good. Good.” He looked down, brought his cup to his mouth and sipped. “Shit! Burned my mouth.”

He wiped his lips with one sleeve, grimaced.

“Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Fine.”

Wasn’t that what she’d been telling herself a few moments ago? What was going on here?

“Connor? Is something wrong?”

“No, of course not. We had a great night, didn’t we?”

“I thought so.”

“I think the same.” He paused, and her stomach sank for some reason. “I just think we should talk.”

“About what?”

“You know I’m enjoying spending time with you. I don’t want you to question that.”

“But?”

“There’s no ‘but’ as far as that’s concerned. I just want to be honest about my intentions.”

She almost laughed. “Your intentions? Connor, no one is standing over you with a shotgun. When did I strike you as the kind of woman who was worried about anyone’s intentions? I know we’re not heading into a relationship. I wouldn’t even call this dating.”

“Well, we’re seeing each other.”

Where was he trying to go with this?

“Yes. So?”

“I believe clarity, transparency, is the best way to go. I don’t want you to have any unrealistic expectations.”

“Is this the kiss-off talk?”

“The what?”

Her heart was a hammer in her chest, in her ears.

“You know. The talk where you basically tell me that you’ve had a great time, I’m a good fuck, but it’s time to kiss off.” She got to her feet, her blood boiling. “Because if it is you can save your breath. I have no desire to be with anyone who isn’t into me. In fact, I hardly
need
to do that.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t. Mischa, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Isn’t it?”

And why did it matter so damn much? She’d known him less than a week!

It was his turn to get to his feet. He towered over her as he reached to the other side of the table, dragging her closer.

She smacked his hand away. “Don’t manhandle me.”

“I was under the impression you enjoyed that.”

“How dare you.” She was fuming now. “How dare you use that against me!”

“Mischa…Shit, I don’t mean it that way. Fuck.”

He let her go and she took a step back. Pushed her hair from her face.

“Maybe you don’t. But Connor, what the fuck is going on here? Because I am not one of those girls you need to have a ‘talk’ with. I’m not going to ask you where we stand or where we’re going. I thought that was clear from the beginning. I have a life in San Francisco. I have my business, my friends, my writing. I’m not looking for anything else. I’m happy. With my
life
. And I’ve been happy to fuck you, to play at your kink.”

His tone was low. “I think we’ve been doing more than playing at it.”

“Yes. Okay. Maybe so. But it doesn’t mean…that I’m going to want more from you.”

God, she was a liar. She wanted more from him already. Even if she didn’t know what it was, exactly. Hell, she didn’t have a clue. She wasn’t sure what the tears stinging her eyes were about—that he was angry, that she didn’t want to care.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry, Mischa. This is not the time…You’re barely down from subspace, if you even truly are yet. I should have kept my mouth shut until tomorrow, at least.” He paused, scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I can’t believe…I never lose control. I never lose it.”

“Is that what this is, Connor? Because I don’t like it one bit.” A small rage shimmered through her, bit into her stomach. “I don’t know why I thought you would behave better than I’ve come to expect of the average man.”