The Science of Loving (20 page)

I set my beer aside and fingered her earlobe, my knuckles brushing her neck as I deliberately removed her can from her death grip, setting it next to mine. Her eyes darted to my face then back to lap. Leaning in on all fours, I nuzzled her face, feeling my beard abrade her delicate skin. Shit. I meant to shave after we got back from the falls.

“Do you want me to go shave?” I murmured, making the offer a licentious threat. When she shook her lowered head, I walked my hands forward, forcing her onto her back, following her down to bite the crook of her neck, finally tasting her freshly washed skin. I circled an arm under her and her hands came up to grip me as I slid her down to the center of the mattress. “Comfortable?”

She nodded, nervously chewing her lip. I kissed her forehead, nose, chin.

“Not talking huh? You must’ve forgotten last night. That’s all right, I’m gonna remind you.” Pushing the sleeping bag away, I made my way down her body, raising her shirt to expose her vulnerable belly. “I kissed you here last night when I took off your pants.” I curled my thumbs over her hipbones, holding her still while I tickled her soft flesh with my teeth—
black panties, nice
—then I skimmed my hands down smooth legs. “You shaved for me?”

Nothing… I stilled.

“I’m not hearing you,” I growled.

“Yes,” she squeaked.

“That’s nice, sweetness.” I resumed seducing her, trailing my fingers down her legs, enjoying all that satiny skin. I slid her ankles apart, kissing back up to her thighs, savoring her spicy scent. “Yeah baby, I like that a lot.” She jumped when my teeth raked over her lace covered mound. “This is where I wanted to bite you last night; since we weren’t alone, I bit you here instead.”

I closed my teeth lightly right below her belly button and sucked, swirling my tongue on her skin—
yeah, sweetness, I’m gonna taste you just like that.

I crouched over her, only touching with my lips and tongue, nibbling and kissing up her body. I paused when I reached her face, looking into her wide doe eyes, then slowly lowered to kiss her reverently, drawing her tongue into my mouth. I didn’t eased up until she was breathless, my biceps clutched in her small hands
—better.

Tangling my fingers in her hair, I kissed her again, deeper. Finally letting her feel my weight as my lips moved to her jaw and down her neck. She caressed my head, and chills skittered down my spine as I grabbed behind her knee, pulling it up to my waist. I rocked my hips, grinding her into the groaning mattress, silently cursing the cloth barriers keeping us apart. When a gurgle caught in the back of her throat though she tried to suppress it, I buried a grin against her neck and tightened my fist in her curls—
resistance is futile, my lovely.

Apparently, all it took was a pair of firm hands and some lowly uttered phrases and I become a quivering pile of need. I was hot, yet shivering, my breasts felt swollen, and low things in me throbbed and ached. Between his voice and the lubricious slide of his body, I barely caught a moan trying to escape.

“Remember how my hands felt last night, restraining you?” His voice slid through me, velvety, explicit and darkly obscene. “Thoughts of you with your soft skin (kiss), and sweet scent (kiss), tortured me all day today. Memories of last night: How it felt holding you down (kiss), touching you while you writhed (kiss), feeling you come on my hand, haunted me.” He breathed hot words against my neck then raked raked my earlobe between his teeth.

His mouth was curved in a libidinous smile as he raised dark, smoky-grey eyes to mine. “Now it’s my turn.”
Oh, God
.
What was he thinking?

His hand slid under my shirt, trailing fire up my body, closing on my breast. He was staring at the movement under my shirt with cat like fascination, torturing my nipples with barely there touches until they were drawn up almost painfully tight. I closed my eyes.

“Look at me. I want to see your eyes while I’m touching you.”

The thought of him watching me was like a dash of cold water. I wanted darkness. It was my ally, hiding the disappointment in my lover’s eyes. I could pretend I was beautiful in the dark. He must've noticed a change in me because his hand left my breasts to trace over my face, my lips, the hold on my curls loosening.

“Shhhh… baby.” His smile gentled. I must've imagined that other one; the one so wicked, it filled me with delicious fear.

“How I treasure you.”

His voice was raw, filled with so much wonder and unexpected emotion that it caught me off guard. He’d spoken the truth last night; he would destroy me: Not with licentious touches and carnal promises, but with devastating reverence.

How I treasure you.

I was undone, pulled under by a wave of foreign emotion. I wanted—I needed to touch him in all the ways I'd dreamt about. I kissed his jaw, testing the roughness of his chin with my teeth. I grazed and nibbled down his throat, pushing at him until he tumbled onto his back. Then brushed kisses across his chest, my tongue teasing his coppery nipples to hardness. And when I used my teeth, he shuddered. Rolling and bucking under me like the sea as his fingers raked through my hair. I tested his ribs with my cheek; explored his ridged abdomen with my nose, following a thickening trail of dark hair to lick salty-sweet musk from the tip of his penis peeking from the waistband of his low riding shorts.

“Baby? Honey?” His fingers knotted painfully in my hair, pulling frantically, yanking me away. He looked chagrined. “You keep going like that and I’ll be finished before we even get started. Come sit right here.” He patted his abs then pulled me up, not giving me a choice.

“Loose the shirt.” He was using that dreadful, wonderful voice, and my shirt disappeared without a thought. His eyes roamed over me: Possessive, molten grey; halting where my panties met his skin, darkening to almost black. “Lean down so I can taste you.”

The cold light had reduced him to shadows and stark highlights, muting the colors twining up his arms. He closed his fingers on my waist as I leaned down bracing myself on warm skin, offering up my lips. His jaw tightened, tendons standing out on his neck as he ignored them, bringing his mouth a suspended nipple as he rolled me onto my back. He resumed his torture, sucking and biting while uncompromising fingers palpated my breasts until I pulsed and throbbed and clawed, searching for something solid to hang onto.

“Hush now. Be still. I don’t want to hurt you.” We were both breathing hard and he had my wrists pinned over my head. “God, next time I’m tying you down.”

I stilled. His eyes narrowed, a calculating gleam growing in their depths. His next words were delivered with sangfroid, serial killer calm. “If you don’t hold still, maybe I won’t wait till next time.”
Holy shit
.

God, now I couldn’t hold still if my life depended on it. I had to test him. I squirmed and twisted, my knees sliding against his sides until his grip turned bruising and his eyes, assessing.

“I’d like that. You at my mercy, held open for my touch, my taste, my cock. You like that idea too, don’t you, Angelina. Trapped, unable to move, unable to escape with absolutely no say over what I did to you,” he murmured. “Don’t you?”
Oh, God.

I nodded mutely, gazing at his beautiful, ruthless face with my heart hammering in my chest. I so wanted my fifty shades moment, wanted his threat to be real. Then he kissed me with a confusing tenderness completely at odds with the coldness in his voice and the intense hold on my wrists. “I’ll be right back.”

Oh. My. God! Shit, what was I thinking? I barely knew this guy.
Cold trepidation settled in the pit of my stomach now that he wasn't working me over with his evil, seductive charms.
What was he going to do?
This is why tequila is bad, bad, bad.

He returned quickly, but not quickly enough to prevent real fear from cooling my blood. There must've been something in my eyes, because he paused uncertainly, setting aside the items he’d fetched. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?” I nodded.

Overcome with embarrassment, I burrowed into the sleeping bags wishing I could take back the last several minutes
—God, I’m such a loser, could I appear any more desperate
—the mattress groaned as he tugged the cloth away. “Talk to me babe. I need words.”

“It’s just that I’ve never done anything like this.”
Or most of the things you’ve done to me already.
I yanked the bag back over my face, totally discomposed.

He chuckled. “You know, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. This isn’t something I’m normally into; we’re just goofing around.”

I peeked over my cloth shield. “No, it’s now or never. I’ll never be this brave again.”
Besides, after this weekend, it was unlikely I’d ever hear from him again,
my inner skank advised,
so I might as well go out with a bang.

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

I nodded.

He whipped the sleeping bag back, switching identities so fast it was startling. “Don’t cover yourself again,” he warned, turning grim. “Why don’t we start by getting rid of that last bit of lace.”

Pressing my knees together, bending them up, he divested me of my panties. Then he nicked the edge of a towel with a penknife, and the sound of tearing cloth made my heart pound. “To protect this beautiful skin,” he murmured, stroking my calf
—oh, my God. I can’t believe he’s really going to tie me up. Shit, I can’t believe I’m going to let him
—he wrapped torn strips of cloth around both my ankles and wrists, securing them with duct tape.

“Not too tight?”

I shook my head.

“Sweetness, I need you to answer me out loud so there’s no misunderstandings.”

“They’re not too tight,” I muttered, grateful the cool light camouflaged the redness dancing in my cheeks.

“Good girl,” he approved, his words, a rich caress. He held up a couple zip ties. “I’m glad I brought extras. I use these to secure the light strings on the canopy.” He loosely chained my right wrist and ankle together then did the same to my left. Cocking his head, he smoothed his palms over my clenched knees, considering. “Almost perfect.”

I watched with fearful fascination as he pulled out a strip of duct tape, folded it then pulled and folded again, and again, pausing occasionally to measure it against the width of the mattress. When he was satisfied, he worked the finished length underneath, catching me when I almost tumbled off the bed then fed the ends through the zip ties hanging from the cuffs, pulling my ankles widely apart.

I felt both vulnerable and ridiculous as he grinned down at me looking extremely pleased. “Well, now, isn’t this a fine sight.” An unwelcome image of a frog ready for dissection popped into my head, and I was overcome with the urge to start croaking, just to see the look on his face. I suppressed a jittery giggle; anxiety was obviously making me stupid.

“Comfy?” He waited patiently as I experimented, testing my restraints. Surprisingly, I was—well, except for having of my vagina on display. My hands were securely manacled and I couldn't close my legs. And, although I could lift my hips off the mattress, arching up from my shoulders, I couldn't get enough leverage to retreat or escape anything he might to do to me.

A falling sensation replaced my breath when he loomed, casting predatory shadows. He eased off his shorts then knelt beside me, toying with another strip of torn terrycloth as he observed me with hooded eyes. “Look at me,” he growled, and my heart surged.

Spreading his thighs wide, he smoothed a hand down his body, his long fingers following the dark path, absently combing through the black tangle while his cock jutted thick and heavy below. He dropped his hand lower, fondling himself.

“I want you to have a good look at what you’re gonna to get before I take your sight from you.”

I dragged my greedy eyes from his cock—there was no other word to describe it—other guys might have penis, or whatever, but he had a cock: Beautiful and peacock proud—
God, he’s so
beautiful, every harsh inch of him. And huge, so freaking huge
—all ripped muscle and leashed aggression
—Scary.

“I hope you like big men, sweetness.” My eyes dropped reflexively back to the hand still moving rhythmically between his legs; the blunt knob playing hide and seek as he lazily palmed himself. “Think you can handle all this? I guess we’ll find out soon enough ‘cause you’re getting this cock, all of it, and you’re gonna take every fucking inch.”
Holy shit, he’s good at this
—I'd never been more terrified and turned on in my life.

He stopped fondling himself and rose up on his knees. His cock damply kissing the side of my breast as he tied the strip of cloth behind my head, adjusting it over my eyes until there was only a crack of light at the bottom. The mattress shifted then I felt him at my knees. “God, I could look at you all night.” I was glad I couldn’t see him. He had a perfect view of my sex in all its glory, glistening wetly from a thatch of black curls—
shit. Tequila really did make me stupid.