He took a few bites here and there along the way, but surprisingly, he wasn’t that hungry. Watching her experience the world through her palate was enough for him.

  He had expected that maybe one or two of the courses wouldn’t be to her liking, but she loved everything. Just like she had tonight at Serve. Once Cassidy made up her mind, she was in. All in.

  “Last course, my brave woman,” he said with a touch of pride in his tone. He took a generous spoonful of the Bistro’s signature dessert and fed it to her.

  “Jesus, you’re killing me,” she said as she rolled the flavors through her mouth. “I’m getting vanilla…some kind of tart fruit and, if I’m not mistaken, something almost…floral? Whatever it is, it’s soooo good.”

  “Well, it’s not dark chocolate with hazelnut—my favorite—but not bad,” he teased.

  Listening to her practically moaning over each bite, watching her swipe the corner of her mouth with her little pink tongue, was undoing him.

  “Fuck, Cass…I can’t…I need a taste of you…now.” He thrust his hands into her silky, golden hair and fisted it close to her scalp. She let out a whimper just as he slammed his mouth onto hers, tasting her and France all together.

  She ripped the blindfold off and crawled right into his lap. He loosened the grasp he had on her as she straddled him, her arms going around him, cradling his head in her hold.

  “I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly. “But I just couldn’t not see you anymore.” Then she assaulted his mouth with all the fervor he had just given her. He clutched her to him as she rubbed herself against his lengthening cock. He was getting harder with every touch and taste of her.

  “We’re going back home,” he said. “Now.”

  He placed a few hundred-dollar bills on the table and practically carried her out of the restaurant and onto the back of his bike.

  “Tonight was the most fun I’ve had in my entire life,” she confessed, looking up at him through her lashes. Not as a flirty young girl ploy to grab his attention, but as woman shy when it came to sharing how she felt. He might be introducing Cass to sides of herself through sex and cuisine, but he knew right then and there that he could spend the rest of his time on Earth trying and never discover all her shades and flavors.

  “Night’s not done yet. We’ve got a lot more to taste.”

  She smiled as she climbed onto the back of his bike. He fucking loved seeing her there.

  “C’mere,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and brought her forehead to rest on his chest.

  “I barely know you and you’re already under my skin,” he grumbled. He cradled her head in both his large hands and lifted her face to his.

  He expected to still find her smiling, but instead her brows were furrowed, pointed into a small V.

  “Hey, what’s that look all about?” he quietly asked her.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing,” she countered. “Because when you tell me I’m under your skin, instead of seeing a man happy to have found something he didn’t even know he was looking for, I see pain in his eyes that I’ve only seen in people mired in grief.”

  He just stared into her bright, green eyes. She was assessing him, but not like an interrogator. More like someone who truly cared about him.

  If she only knew the truth, she’d run. She’d run like hell.

  “When you look at me,” he said. “What do you see?”

  “A brave man who served as a Marine, trained to kill in order to protect. A man whose primary purpose is the security and safety of others.”

  “Don’t make me out to be something bigger than life,” he countered. “Don’t fall in love with a man like me.”

  He started to let go of her body from where it was tucked against his, but she strengthened her grip.

  “Look at me,” she urged, placing her palm on his chest. The heat from her body warmed him. “What is it that haunts you?” Slowly, he opened his eyes, and she sucked in a breath. “Is it PTSD from when you were in Afghanistan?”

  He shook his head. “Worse, if you can believe it.”

  “Something with your family?”

  He paused, taking her in, assessing. Then, he gave the briefest nod.

  “Okay,” she answered. “Are you ready to tell me what it is?”

  He pressed his lips together. Hard. As if the secret would fall out if he didn’t physically restrain himself.

  She could have pushed, but she didn’t. “You tell me when you’re ready, okay?”

  He nodded again, but this time his face seemed more relaxed.

  “It’s enough for now,” she continued. After a beat, she added, “You’re more than enough.”

  His eyes searched every nuance of her expression. Was she real? He couldn’t help but feel she was about to disappear in a puff of smoke. Then he honed his longing gaze on her lips and kissed her.

  That was when he realized that this was what he needed. Not for the same reasons as her, but he needed the fire and passion of their bodies together all the same. He’d lost the ability to connect with anyone unless it was through sex. And he knew they both needed to be in his ropes again, right now, in order to connect. To make him feel whole.

  Chapter Eight

  Cassidy held her arms tight around him as he wove in and out of traffic as if the laws of New York and the laws of physics didn’t apply to him. Was he rushing them back to his home as a way to avoid the emotions of their earlier conversation? Or was he doing it to finally fuck her, the way they both needed?

  By the time they were in his house and going into his playroom, she honestly didn’t care what his reasons were anymore. All she knew was she wanted this man inside her more than her next breath. She had never experienced desire like this before. Never. And that notion both thrilled and scared the shit of her.

  He closed the door to the playroom then walked around her and pulled his shirt off. He balled the shirt in his hands and tossed it across the room. In one sweep, he pulled off his jeans and kicked them aside.

  He stood naked in front of her. Gorgeous. Virile.

  Goddamn, he’s magnificent.

  His cock was already erect—long and thick, darker than the rest of the skin on his sculpted body.

  “Now this time, it’s going to feel as if I’m giving all the orders,” he told her. “In time, once I learn what you respond to, you’ll be part of the dialogue. Got it?”

  “Yeah,” she answered, the air already rising and falling erratically from her lungs.

  “Stay exactly where you are,” he instructed, his voice calm, steady, but with a timbre underneath hinting that he was holding onto his control by a thread. He circled her, and her pulse quickened.

  It was as if he was stalking his prey. Her.

  “Unbutton your blouse.”

  Her eyes darted to the windows.

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Windows are tinted, babe. No one can see in.”

  “Oh, uh…okay,” she answered. Her hands fluttered to the clasp, her fingers shaking. The silk fabric left her shoulders, and she looked again to him for his instruction.

  “Now the pants, but put the heels back on once they’re off.”

  Again she did what she was told, and soon she wasn’t wearing anything.

  After closing the cabinet, he walked behind her. Not being able to see him—and the fact that he was so quiet—heightened her anticipation. Then she felt his heat along her back and on the slight dip of her buttocks not covered by underwear. His breath caressed her behind her ear, the back of her neck.

  He spoke in a low, rough tone. “In this room, I need you to let go.”

  She swallowed. “Let go of what?”

  “Let go of power. Let go of control. Allow me to guide you. But know that you can’t escape into yourself. Or into me. In this room, you can’t hide from what you want. Nod if you understand.”

  She did. Then he bound each of her wrists with his ropes and hoisted them up and through the wooden rings hanging from the ceiling. The sensation of being stretched out, exposed, was a bit unnerving. Being unable to use her hands made her heartbeat race. He’d insisted this didn’t mean giving up control—on the contrary, it was supposed to make her feel more in control than ever. But in the moment, she couldn’t help but feel momentarily off-balance, like she was using a new muscle. Her pulse thrummed in her neck, and small beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

  “Are you comfortable, Cassidy?”

  The pad of his middle finger went right for her aching, swollen clit. He rubbed the tip of her nub in luscious, lazy circles while he pressed his erection into her from behind.

  She moaned, and her head lolled back and rested on his chest. He used his free hand to hold the weight of one of her breasts, and she became more lush and liquid as he rolled one of her nipples in between his fingers.

  He rubbed his cock in between her cheeks, and she moaned even louder.

  “Get ready,” he said.

  There was something about his manner, the way he spoke, that tipped her off that he’d begun the scene. She was new to this world, but she’d read enough erotic romances to understand that another side of David had emerged now.

  Did he expect her to be playful and flirty? Or willful and demanding? She’d always prided herself in knowing how to read people and situations quickly. Those skills had been essential as she’d grown up, never knowing what she’d be walking into every time she opened her bedroom door. But David wasn’t giving anything away.

  A few days ago, she’d have felt terrified to go off script. To fly blind. But with him, she felt safe, so she decided to just wing it.

  “What do you want to do to me?” she said. “I’m the one all tied up. Looks like the choice of what to do is yours.”

  “This isn’t about what I want,” he said, a bit more harshly than she expected. Then, as if sensing her surprise at his tone, he gave a brief kiss on her shoulder. “Let this be about you, okay?”

  She knew most women would adore a lover only focusing on them, but something felt a bit off about what he said. Wasn’t this supposed to be a reciprocated exchange? Sharing each other?

  He widened her legs and pressed his hot body against hers. It was almost scalding to the touch. He was all worked up over her. She just stared at him and took in his body’s warmth, his thinly veiled ferocity, his uncoiling passion. His hands trailed down her arms, to the edges of her sensitive breasts.

  He stopped there and, with the most delicate touch, traced her nipples with the tips of his rough fingers. She harshly sucked in the air, and her core contracted with the sensation. He breathed heavy, deeply, and the green of his eyes glittered brightly with his arousal. He appeared as if he was barely holding it together, which was why she was surprised by his light touches.

  “You’re holding back,” she accused—no malice, only desire for him to open up to her the way he’d gotten her to open up to him. “I’m not made of glass.”

  His jaw clenched, and a muscle ticked in his neck. “I know that, baby, but I also know pain’s not your thing. I want this to be good for you.”

  “It already is. Play with me how you want. I’ll tell you when something doesn’t work. I have a voice.”

  He took in a breath and gave a nod as her words soaked into him. “Yes, you do.”

  “Give me you,” she said. “All of you. That’s what I want. Everything you’ve got. I promise you, I won’t break.”

  A flash of emotion went across his face, then he brought his mouth onto hers. He fisted her hair in one hand and grabbed her by the throat with the other. He held her there, his firm grip impossible for her to escape, but she didn’t want to.

  He took her mouth and sucked on her tongue, then moved his hands down to grasp her ass and rub his steel erection between her legs. He released her mouth only to bring his tongue down the column of her throat, and then bit hard into the curve of her shoulder, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough that she figured she’d have a bruise for at least several days.

  He lifted his head to view his work on her. “Fuck, that’s beautiful,” he muttered softly. “I love seeing my mark on you.”

  She didn’t say it out loud, but Cassidy really liked the idea of bearing his mark on her skin, too. Like a brand. Like being owned. She loved the thought of going to work tomorrow knowing it was still there, underneath her clothes where no one could see.

  He sucked on her hard nipples, and she thrust her breasts into his mouth. Each time he pulled on them with his lips and teeth, a bolt of electric arousal pulsed through her sex and made her keen for release. But even in his frenzied state, he took his time.

  He worked his way down her body, then got on his knees so that his face was lined up with her awaiting cleft. He dove his mouth between her legs and went at her like a man denied his favorite meal for too long. She’d never seen someone so turned on by giving a woman pleasure, and that helped her let go of any conscious thought.

  Soon she was all sensation. No logic, no analysis, no reason. All she cared about was the way that tongue of his licked magically at her clit.

  Then he stopped and she cried out, bereft over the loss of his mouth on her. He wove another seat for her out of the rope, like he had before at the demo.

  Once he was done, he stood up and began spinning her in circles. The ropes twisted on the wide and strong wooden ring above her head. He alternated between spinning and pushing the swing back and forth. It was like a wild ride, and she let out a squeal from the center of her being, a place and a feeling inside her she’d long forgotten.

  And then he stopped her again and began exploring her body with his hands, his lips, and his tongue. He did this over and over again, until she begged him to stop. Her head was swimming, her equilibrium shattered.

  He brought his fingers inside her. “You ready for me? You want me inside?”

  She closed her eyes because the room was still circling around her, but it was his whisper in her ear that helped her center herself.

  “I don’t want you, I need you inside me.”

  She opened her eyes just in time to see the most satisfied smile play across his face.

  “That’s good because I’m going to take you now, Cassidy, and I’m going to give you all of me. And I’m going to make it so you’ll never want another man between your legs again.”

  He dug out a condom from his bag and sheathed himself fast. Then he grabbed her by the hips and drove himself deep inside her.

  His head fell back, and a sound somewhere between a growl and a moan escaped him. Without losing a beat, he used the momentum of the swing to thrust into her hard. Her eyes rolled back, and she reveled in being filled so completely by him.

  He leaned into her body, kissed her swollen lips, and fisted her hair in his hands. He wasn’t using the swing to drive himself into her anymore. Instead, he held her in place, tight, their bodies slick with sweat. He rotated his hips while plunging deep, and he massaged her clit with every turn and thrust of his body.

  She started to tremor, her legs shaking as her orgasm built, as her moans turned into desperate pleas.

  “David, it’s too much! I can’t—I’m gonna—”

  “That’s it,” he said. “Give into it.”

  Her eyes were heavy-lidded, barely open, but she returned his gaze. Her orgasm was growing. Fast. Intense.

  She was afraid it was too big, more than anything she’d ever experienced. She could tell he was almost there, too, and she needed him to come with her. To complete their union. She looked into his face, sweat glistening on his forehead, his eyes squeezed shut as he barreled into her.

  He practically roared as he released into her, pummeling at lightning speed. She soon followed and plunged off the cliff with him. Just before tunneling into an abyss of graceful abandon, she sunk her teeth right into the corded muscle between his neck and shoulder. Leaving her own mark. Branding him to her. She licked the bite, lost in the explosion of dark and light, air and breath that swirled around them.

  He broke away from her and threw the used condom into a nearby trashcan, and grabbed a blanket and a knife. He came back over, laid out the blanket underneath her, and then took hold of her body in one arm while cutting the suspending rope with the other. Once the rope was cut, her weight went into him, and he collapsed onto the blanket and cradled her in his arms.

  They were both heaving, trying to catch their breath. Soon after, though, he removed all the ropes around her, grabbed some lotion, and started rubbing her all over. She eyed some marks on her ankles, but they weren’t deep.

  “Those will fade by tomorrow,” he promised.

  Then he put the lotion down and brought her close to him, using his arms and legs to wrap himself around her. She rotated her body so her back fitted to his front, and he quickly melded into her frame.

  Part of her was luxuriating in the most mind-blowing sex of her life. She loved the smell of him, the mixture of their sex and sweat. There was something about him that was so masculine and virile, yet he was vulnerable, too, shown by his desire to cuddle her afterwards.

  The other part of her wanted to bolt. Not because she wasn’t into him, but because she was.

  He’d told her he wasn’t boyfriend material. And she accepted that. She didn’t believe it was a good idea to try to change a person. You had to accept people for who they were, not who they could be.

  David wasn’t her boyfriend, and he never would be. He was her lover, and taking him simply as that without obsessing over turning him into something more was what had helped her embrace her desires without worrying if they would sour the chance for a relationship.

  The whirlwind in her head stopped as soon as he took hold of her chin and turned her to face him. He kissed her, and she instantly melted into him, wanting to dissolve into his body and soul.

  “You have a great laugh,” he said between kisses. “You sounded like a kid, laughing deep from the belly.”

  She’d felt like a kid when he was spinning and pushing her, like on a playground swing. It brought back an old memory for her.

 

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