Chapter Fourteen

Owen found what he was looking for in his bag. Then he brought it back to the bed. Rose’s eyes widened.

“I know a way to help you relax,” he said.

“I can’t,” she said immediately. “Absolutely not.”

“Because?” he asked.

“Because I can’t!”

“Why not?”

He had to know. Why was she so hell bent on denying herself?

“Do you trust me?” he asked gently when she didn’t answer.

“I do,” she said without hesitation. “Definitely. It’s just that this is different for me.” She smiled. “But maybe different is good.”

He smiled right back at her. “Different is exactly what you need.”

He guessed that she still had the two restraints. She could have gotten rid of them, but he didn’t think so. There was too much curiosity, too much intrigue around them—no matter how much she tried to deny it.

But two wasn’t enough. Not for what he wanted to do for her. Not for the fantasies that had been keeping him awake at night, his dick hard as a hammer in his pumping fist. He held the two new restraints that he’d bought and asked where the other ones were.

She pointed under the bed and bit her lip as she gave him a delicious grin. Fuck, yes.

All this teasing and build up was torture for his cock, which just wanted to be inside her already.

But every move, every moan, every cry was going to be so much sweeter if he waited until she was completely out of her mind. No more wondering and worrying, convincing herself she was somehow not good enough, not sexy enough, not fun enough to have what she wanted. Until she knew with every cell in her body that this was what she wanted—that what she wanted was him.

He didn’t need to have known Rose when she was with that asshole Jason to bet his family’s whole company on the fact that that prick had never made her pant. Made her beg. Made her need.

If Rose thought she was tame…it was only because no man had made her wild. Owen was going to change that. Starting now.

When he had everything ready, he stripped down as she watched and then climbed back on top of her, hovering above her with his thighs on either side of her waist. She ran her hands up his legs. His cock was standing straight up, and she went to touch it, to stroke it like she’d done before.

It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to push her hands away.

“Not yet,” he whispered and drew her arms up over her head, pulling off her shirt and slipping off her bra as he went.

He looped one end of each restraint over the poles at either end of the headboard. They weren’t trying to hide these from anyone, so they didn’t need to go under the bed. Before he slid her wrists inside, he kissed each one, bringing his lips to the soft skin of her arms. Perfection.

She lay there underneath him, her arms spread and bound, looking up at him with wide, skittish eyes. He saw nervousness there, the uncertainty at doing something new.

But he also saw excitement, the way the nerves mingled with something else to make it thrilling. To make it more.

“You look incredible,” he murmured, bending down to kiss her lips. She tugged against the restraints—a reflex to touch him, to respond the way she normally would. But it was that much hotter that she couldn’t.

“I guess I’d better be careful,” she said as she pulled on the restraints. Testing. Teasing.

“The whole point is to not be careful,” he said.

“Because you fixed the bed?” She practically snorted in his face.

He picked up the next restraint and dragged the leather feather-light over her breasts. Her nipples puckered and hardened even more at the touch.

“I fucking hope we break it,” he said. “Prove me wrong.”

He loved the way she resisted and begged for it at the same time, the struggle taking place inside her and across the sheets.

“There’s more?” she asked, eyes wide as he drew the leather down her body. When he got to the waist of her jeans, he kept going all the way down, removing her pants and underwear until she was completely naked before him. He trailed the leather, teasing, down her thighs, raising goose bumps in its wake.

“I never do anything halfway.”

She moved like she was going to sit up, but the wrist restraints held her in place. Fuck. It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, watching her reach for him and realize she couldn’t. She was at his mercy, spread out and beautiful. His cock was so hard that it hurt.

He traced the restraint the rest of the way down her leg. He looped it around her ankle, again kissing the delicate skin before tethering her to the bed, tightening the strap until it held.

When both her legs were bound, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. She formed an X across the bed, her arms and legs spread wide, hair tumbling every which way. He licked his lips and began stroking his cock. Just a little. Enough to take the edge off. He moaned as he watched her naked body squirm, testing her new limits.

“You can’t do this to me.” She tugged on the restraints.

“I thought you were begging for it,” he teased her.

“But I want to touch you.” She bit her lip, pouting. He leaned over and kissed her frown.

“Then it’s too bad that you’re mine for tonight.”

He knew she wasn’t afraid of what he might do but of what she might do. How she might let herself give in.

He threw his leg over her and straddled her again, his balls resting on her stomach, his cock standing straight up. No matter his position of power, he bent down and kissed her lips softly, tenderly. His way of letting her know.

The restraints didn’t change anything. It was still him holding her, kissing her. This was all about how out of this world he was going to make her feel.

He brought himself over her face. “Do you still want to suck my cock?” he asked.

Her tongue darted out quickly, and it made his cock jump to see that perfect pink. Then she opened her mouth for him, and it was all he needed. She may have been bound, but that gesture—it was all her own. It was every sign of what she wanted him to do.

He thrust his dick into her open mouth, pushing it over her slippery tongue, back, back, into the warmth of her throat. In and out he brought his cock, letting her tongue dance over him, swirl the tip, and take him deep again. He painted her lips with his precum, mesmerized by the sight of her greedy for him.

He wanted to explode into her mouth, watch her swallow every last drop. But it was too soon, and he had too many other plans for her. When he withdrew from her mouth, she whimpered, but it turned into a groan as he lay on top of her and kissed her, his cock pressing hard into her thigh.

She arched her hips up, but he still wasn’t going to fuck her. Not yet.

He kissed his way down her body, spending time on the sensitive side of her neck, sucking on her nipples as they tightened in his mouth. He got lower, kissing and nibbling the insides of her spread thighs, until he was finally…there.

With every flick of his tongue over her clit, she tugged on the restraints. But there was nowhere to go. Exactly how he wanted it.

He could feel the transition, the moment when she stopped fighting it and let herself give in. Her hips circled. Her thighs tightened. The leg restraints became a brace to give herself leverage, rather than something to struggle against.

Her moans became louder. Deeper. Closer together as her chest rose and fell, panting at his touch.

He slid a finger inside her, then another, teasing her g-spot as his tongue circled the sweetness of her clit. Had he ever loved tasting a woman the way he loved the taste of Rose?

“Owen,” she panted. Again, over and over, crying out his name.

“Don’t come yet,” he murmured into her warmth. He stroked the tender place inside and rolled her clit in his mouth. “Don’t you dare fucking come.”

“I need to,” she gasped, writhing against him.

“You can hold off.”

“I can’t, I can’t, I’m going to—”

“Not yet.”

“Owen, I—”

He withdrew his fingers and stopped licking her. She bucked in frustration against him, her hips still moving as she searched for her release.

“Not yet,” he told her again, holding her thighs open as she thrashed against her restraints.

“You’re the worst,” she said. But with a wicked grin, even in her frustration.

“I don’t know,” he mused. “I’m not sure you want it enough.”

“The worst man I’ve ever met,” she repeated.

He had to agree. “It’s so shitty when a guy wants to drive you wild instead of just getting off, rolling over, and falling asleep.”

“I’m beginning to see the merit of that kind of fuck,” she said with a whimper.

He laughed. Was there anything better than laughing in bed? Anything better than seeing Rose smile?

“I still don’t know if you’re ready yet.” He slid his hand up her thigh and slipped his thumb inside her. She was so slick, opening for him. She wasn’t the only one who groaned at his touch.

“Please,” she said, raising her hips to him.

“Please what?”

“Fuck me, Owen.” She looked down and held his eyes as she said it. Nothing bashful, nothing shy. Nothing fighting her desire.

It wasn’t just that she said it. It was the way she said it and everything in her body that screamed it louder than words ever could. It was time to give her what she wanted.

He couldn’t hold out anymore.

…

Rose squirmed in her restraints as Owen slid off her. She didn’t want him to leave her. But she couldn’t complain when she realized he’d only gone to grab the condom from the nightstand. He ripped it open and slid it on. His eyes never left her as he stroked himself, slow and firm, and walked back to the bed.

There was no getting away. The cuffs were snug around her wrists and ankles. No matter how much Owen teased her, no amount of thrashing would release her.

But it was pure pleasure to feel the restraints tighten as she pulled, knowing she was completely bound. Pure pleasure to see how it excited him to watch her fight it—in order to watch her give in.

And pure torture. She was starting to realize they were two sides of the same coin, a give and take, tension and release.

He’d driven her out of her mind, until she was a panting, quivering mess, lying there begging for more. But that wasn’t enough for him, was it? Because he still wouldn’t let her come, that bastard.

It didn’t make sense. Shouldn’t he have been racking up her orgasms like notches on his belt? I gave you yours, so now you’re mine?

But the more Owen kept telling her not to come, the harder it was to hold back. It was like he knew that if he went down on her just to get her off before he fucked her, her mind would have been whirling at a million miles an hour, thinking about everything but what felt good.

Thinking about how she looked, what he thought, if he was bored yet, if she was taking too long.

Not thinking about the flick of his tongue, the press of his fingers, the way he opened and opened her until she was nothing but a bundle of sensation radiating from the hot, electric center of her.

That he wanted her to not come, and then made it more and more impossible for her to comply…she didn’t know whether to wring his neck or kiss him deeper than she’d ever done before.

Not that she could really do either right now—or that she had a choice. She was lying there at his mercy. And she didn’t know which one of them was loving it more.

She’d never felt as vulnerable as she when he climbed on top of her. As vulnerable, open, or as naked in her desire. She didn’t recognize the woman who was bound like this, panting like this, begging for all those filthy things—telling him how she wanted his cock, wanted him fucking her, wanted him to come.

But it didn’t matter. She couldn’t stop. There was no point hiding how much she wanted him. No reason to remember why she might have felt like she was supposed to hide in the first place.

Because she wasn’t supposed to be so obvious in her desire? Or was it, also, that there’d never been someone she’d desired quite like this? Who’d made her feel quite like this.

She gasped when he pushed inside her. And she didn’t stop gasping. Whimpering. Begging as he thrust into her again and again.

She wished she could draw her arms around him and feel his strong shoulders, the muscles flexing as he propped himself up. She’d run her fingers through his hair, tease him at the nape of his neck, and draw him close.

She’d wrap her legs around him, tilting her hips up, taking him deeper, making contact over every inch of their skin.

But wasn’t that, too, the point of being bound? To realize how much she wanted? To touch him, taste him, feel him. To be as close as two people could get.

Yet all she could do was lie there with her legs and arms spread wide and feel it.

“You feel so fucking good,” Owen said, taking long, delicious strokes inside her.

“You’re making me insane.” She could barely get out the words, she was breathing so hard.

“Good,” he grunted. “I want to make you lose your goddamn mind.”

His pace quickened. Her own cries became sharper, louder, closer together. Like it was coming from somebody else, someone who could throw her head back and fuck with abandon. Not the perfect, cookie-cutter dream wife Jason had constructed, but someone she had never met before.

“Don’t you dare,” he groaned, his lips close to her ear. She was so close to coming. So close. He must have sensed it from her body, her cries. Everything in her tensed, pulled as tight as the cords strapping her limbs to the bed. Tight and vibrating and ready for release.

He didn’t slacken his pace. He didn’t change positions or ease up or do anything to pull her back from the brink. He’d been edging her for so long, she could no longer see the line between coming and not, the ledge she wasn’t supposed to go hurtling over. It was all a stream, a single thread connecting his body to hers, from her mounting pleasure to the one last thrust that sent her unraveling.

“Come for me,” he growled low in her ear, urging her on, telling her to take it. Come on his cock. Let go and come all over him.

Someone was screaming, panting. Someone’s body was coming and coming, wave after wave. But it wasn’t her because there was no her. There was only the pleasure coursing through her, the depth of her cries as she came.

“Come inside me,” she said as the waves kept coursing through her, and she couldn’t think about how she’d never said anything like those words before.

“Fuck, I love to hear you say that.”

His thrusts became quick and deep, his breathing heavy and hard. His every muscle tightened—and then he let go.

After he was finished, he lay on top of her for what felt like a long time, his heart thumping against her chest. He kissed the side of her neck with such tenderness, it was hard to believe he was the same person who’d said and done those things to her only moments before.

He reached down to pull off the condom then got up and threw it away. When he came back, he stood by the bed, looking at her. She was still strapped in, and she was sure she looked terrible—limbs spread, hair a bird’s nest, all of her exposed.

“What are you looking at?” She squirmed in her bonds.

“You.” He didn’t stop staring.

“Me, what?”

“You, being you. Being beautiful.”

“You going to untie me anytime soon?” she asked, avoiding how ridiculous he was being.

“I’m thinking about never. You look too good. But I guess I’ll be nice.”

“How generous of you.”

He took his time releasing her. First one hand, then the other. Kissing every part of her as he moved. He pressed her palm to his mouth. Traced his lips along the inside of her arm. Brought her hands to fall gently by her sides.

Then he moved his way down, kissing her softly. When he reached her ankles, he took off the straps and sat at the foot of the bed, drawing her feet onto his lap. He pressed his thumbs to the soles of her feet, rubbing them until she groaned with almost as much pleasure as she had when he was inside her.

“My God, that feels good.”

“You know how much I love to hear you say that, right?”

She blushed, shy again, as though the woman who’d just bellowed out her orgasm had already left the building and regular Old Rose was in her place again.

“Wearing heels all day is murder,” she said.

“You know what else is murder?” he asked.

“Wearing comfortable-looking boots and jeans to work?” She made a face.

He laughed. “Thankfully, that’s the one major perk. But no, I was thinking more like having a killer cardio workout without having eaten.”

“Killer?” She couldn’t help laughing.

“Forget the gym. You made me work,” he said.

“That’s because you were on top the whole time.” She grinned. Wickedly. “I just had to lie there.”

He sucked in a breath. “As if I could forget.” Then he winked at her. “I’ll have to make sure you get on top next time.”

She swallowed. She was completely relaxed. But even so, nerves and excitement bubbled up again. What am I doing, thinking about a next time? But she was too loose-limbed and comfortable to worry about the answer.

Gently, Owen took her feet off his lap and slid out of bed. “Don’t move.”

He headed for the fridge.

Some part of her was aware that she should probably object. At least get dressed, sit at the table, be more formal and put together about it.

Owen may have planned to stay for dinner, but that didn’t mean he was spending the night. Even if he did, that still didn’t mean this was anything more than the fruition—finally—of the officially sexy, officially toe-curling one-night stand New Rose had steeled herself to have.

But she stayed naked in bed and watched his naked butt move deliciously throughout her apartment as he brought her a glass of wine then went to grab plates.

I could get used to this.

She couldn’t tell if that was a good sign…or a very, very bad one.