Her eyes caper between mine as she rakes her teeth over her bottom lip. “Promise for what?”
While still clutching her chin, I station myself between her legs and snake my arm around her back to keep her close, as if the cuffs aren’t sufficient. “You need to promise that you’ll trust me and do what I say. Can you stop reacting rashly and be a good girl for me?”
Rena is a live wire, especially when she’s lost. Deep down, she wants to please. To be cherished. To be guided. All while being viewed as an equal.
That I can do.
A coy grin coasts up her cheeks. “Show me how, sailor. Being good doesn’t come naturally to me, but I want to be your good girl more than anything. I have a request though.”
Of course she does. I doubt she agrees to anything without negotiating.
I glide my fingers into her untamed locks, lowering my face until our noses are nearly brushing, our breaths mingling into one. “Request?”
A chill washes over her, goose bumps erupting on every visible glimpse of skin, but she doesn’t miss a beat. “Will you call my brothers and tell them about us? That thereisan us?”
That’s a test. Just hours ago, she was angry at the prospect of me calling them in a couple of days. But I’ve left her so vulnerable that she needs proof I won’t walk away. Unfortunately for her, evenwhen she comes to her senses and realizes this isn’t the best future for her, I won’t be letting her go. It’s too late for that.
“There is absolutely anus, and I will tell them,” I avow against her lips, my tongue darting out to lick the seam. “You’ll be my good girl and listen, and I’ll handle your brothers.” I fist her hair, wrenching her head back to expose her throat to me and nipping along the column as she swallows. “But I’m not calling them tonight.” A trail of kisses across the curve of her jaw. “You’ll need to trust me.” My teeth graze her earlobe. “Practice patience.”
“Why not now?” She practically pants that, but I hear the skepticism laced through it all the same.
I straighten, denying her what we’re both craving, and lift her leg, propping it on my thigh to unlace her boot as I explain. “For starters, it’s three in the morning—five in New Orleans. That’s far too early for this level of confrontation.” I pause, shuck that boot and sock off, and move to the other. “Plus, you came out here to figure things out. I’d like to help you do that before we involve anyone else.” Removing that one, I let my fingers skim over her calf as I finish, her pink-painted toes curling from the tickle. “And your brothers would most definitely spoil the mood for what I’m about to do to you.”
She soaks in my answer, her chest rising and falling, smashing into the forearm crossing her body and accentuating the swell of her breasts above her plunging neckline. “Well, I can’t argue with that logic. Are you keeping me cuffed for whatever that is? Gonna teach me a”—she waggles her brows—“lesson?”
I hum, considering. The cuffs could be fun. Although she can’t be comfortable, perched on the edge of the couch with her arms outstretched. Which is exactly what she deserves after playing me.
She’d enjoy the bondage element though. I’m not sure if that’s a pro or a con if I’m seeking punishment. Discipline isn’t really my style. I’d much prefer to spoil her, fulfill her every fantasy, have her seeing stars, screaming my name, and begging for more. Not that I’llbe clueing her into that immediately. A little suffering is warranted after what she pulled. Maybe I could marry the two.
Deciding not to answer, I yank her pants off in a single sweep. Her balance falters for a beat, but the restraints hold her steady. It leaves her in the black bodysuit, clinging to her graceful bends. Legs for days. Utterly magnificent.
“Fuck,” I hiss. “You’re never going out without me again.”
She puffs a disbelieving laugh. She thinks I’m joking. I am not even in the same vicinity as joking, but we’ll double back to that later.
Unable to restrain myself, I clutch her cheeks and crash my lips to hers, wild and frantic, spilling all the helplessness, desperation, and torment that swarmed me every time she was in peril into her. She meets my untamed offering with a matching dose of fervor, purring into my mouth and welcoming the demons with her willing and eager dance. And as my tongue tangles with hers, I know she senses it. The fraying thread I’m gripping. How she strengthens me and weakens me at once.
Her teeth sink into my lower lip as her hazels flit up to mine. “You going to kill anyone who looks at me?”
A challenge.
“Such a brat.” I chuckle, hauling her off the couch and positioning her chest against the column so she’s hugging it, which affords me a glorious backside view—the bodysuit and her panties are thongs. And her ass is round and plump and a sensational blank canvas.
Whisking her hair over to one shoulder, I mold my body to hers, slinking my fingers between her thighs and speaking low into her ear as she shivers from the contact. “No need. Anyone who dares to breathe the same air as you will know that you’re mine and run the other way.”
In response, her own air whooshes out of her, catching with a whistle a second later as I dust over the thin strip of fabric, drenched from her arousal. My girl likes to be owned, but she can’t help but push back. “Are you always so controlled?”
That sounds like a simple sentence, but it’s undoubtedly snark.
My retort arrives with a swift spank to that luscious ass, and she receives it with a tantalizing moan of approval.
“Oh God,” she whispers, her cheek melded to the wood pillar, breasts billowing over her top from the pressure.
“So eager to be marked,” I rasp into her ear. “You like that?”
She nods, huffing out a wispy, “Yeah.”
I knew she would, so I issue another to the opposite cheek as I answer her question. “Not controlled when it comes to you.”
