‘You think?’
He presses a button on the control panel, the elevator gliding to a stop. One glance at the illuminated buttons shows we weren’t on our way to the ground floor, but rather heading up.To his suite.
‘Sofia and I have, or rather, had an understanding. No strings attached and no getting involved. I apologize if that sounds unfeeling, but that is how things stood. For both of us.’
My eyebrows creep toward my hairline; incredulity and a non-verbal enquiry into his use of past tense.
‘We are no longer involved.’
‘So it’s over, your friends with benefits deal?’
‘I never said she and I were friends.’
He touches the panel again and the elevator begins to move.
At his suite, I allow him to take my hand as we cross the threshold, when suddenly, he pushes his hands into my hair and my body back against the closed door.
‘Tell me you don’t want me,’ he dares, eyes ablaze. ‘Tell me I’m wrong.’
I place my hands against his chest and push him away a little; I want to see his face. ‘I’m not sure I want to be that kind of friend,’ I reply solemnly.
He doesn’t speak, his features giving little away. But then, as he blinks, I can almost see a storm brewing there. My stomach does a little flip in response. And not anoh, fuck he’s crosskind of flip, but more of aguh, fuck, he’s sexykind of thing. His fingers tighten in my hair and like a marionette with cut strings, my knees begin to give. I don’t have to worry about falling as he presses himself against me, forcing a needy sort of exhale from my throat. But I don’t get it; my reactions are utterly irrational. The man is angry and I’m turned on. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I know I could push him away, step out of his arms knowing he’d be a perfect gentleman. But as he forces my head back so he can better see into my eyes, I know I’m where I want to be: under his hands and the influence of his amber-coloured gaze.
‘You have to trust me.’
It’s not a request, liquorice scented breath feathering across my face.
My palms against the hardness of his chest, I can feel his heart beating solidly beneath his skin. His eyes never waver as he reaches beneath the hem of my dress, pulling my now naked thighs hard against his. It’s a touch my body seems to recognise as I whimper or moan, I’m not sure which. The strangeness in Kai’s expression shifts, the storm receding, replaced by fire as he presses his mouth against mine. Hot and urgent kisses, I meet his intensity as hard fingers press into my flesh. Grasping my dress, he breaks contact for just a moment, pulling it over my waist and further up over my head.
My breath catches as he spins me by the shoulder, pushing my body flush with the cool surface of the door.
‘Mihtajik.’ At my ear, his voice is harsh and rasping. ‘I need you.’
My body trembles against the cold door, sensations and emotions combining, driving me higher, my needs meeting his. Kai’s forehead falls to my shoulder, feather light fingers drawing the straps of my bra down my arms.
‘And I think you need this.’ Lips and teeth trail across my shoulder. My knees weaken again and I moan loudly as he dips lower, drawing his body flush with mine once more. Hip to hip, he supports and pinions me as I quiver against the cold of the door.
‘Lift your hands.’ Not waiting, he takes them in his, forcing my palms flat against the wood. My heart and pulse pounds, my skin tightening in anticipation. ‘I need to try something. Trust me,’ he whispers.
I can barely think, let alone speak, but somehow I manage to ask hoarsely, ‘Should I trust you?’ I want to; the charming, laughing Kai of earlier I trust, the one that teases and winds me up. The secret-filled Kai, the one holding me up against the door...should I?
‘You will.’
There’s conviction but also warning in his words as he raises my hands higher. One palm against the door, he lays the other on top, skin to skin. His fingers glide away before I feel fabric against my wrists, binding. Excited, suddenly wet and now trembling, I close my eyes, afraid the sight of being bound could be my undoing.
‘Turn, kitten,’ he whispers, my hands still in his. ‘Open your eyes. See how good we look, how we fit together.’
My insides ignite at his words, his kisses and coaxing tongue softer than before but passionate still. His mouth trails my neck and jaw, my hands still restrained and held in his before they slip away, skimming down the sensitive underside of my arms and across my ribs. He teases and moulds my breast in one palm, his mouth lowering to the other, the twinge of teeth causing me to hiss between his sucking and licking touch. My body bows and I cry out, overcome by the mixture of hot liquid pleasure and his now biting touch. I thrust my hips forward, my arms still above my head and rattling against the door. I’m wanton and bewildered as pleasure and pain unite, but I don’t need to think. Just feel.
The metallic clink of his zipper, the sound of ripping foil, and my insides begin to pulse. His knees dip, hips rolling into mine and all thought is lost. Gripping the back of my knee, he lays it around his thigh, stroking his smooth head against my entrance until it glistens between us. I push myself forward against him, my body in charge, driven by needs I don’t care to understand.
He enters me hard then, lifting me from the floor in one fluid movement. I cry out as I’m impaled. Filled. Stretched.
‘You look so good, bound.’ His voice is deep, husky, and strained with sex as his hips flex and pump. His hands hold my arse, spearing me deeply, my body weight adding an unexpected and delectable pressure.
‘Give in,’ he growls. ‘Give up.’ Thrusting into me, he holds me with his eyes, with his hands, as a hungry arousal licks its way through my body, building in intensity, my breathing increasing with it. I arch against the door, writhing, my bound hands thrashing against the wood. I cry out his name as he presses into me, pushing me higher and higher until there’s no place to go but fall, my fingers grasping for contact with the wood as I scrabble and scratch as though to prevent my descent.
I shatter. Peak. Climax hard.
