Caught Up in You Page 22

Author: Roni Loren


“Too warm?” he asked.


“God, no,” she breathed. “It’s . . .”


Then his mouth was on her, stealing her words. His tongue glided over the side of her breast, following the trail of chocolate until his lips locked around a nipple. The softness of his mouth mixing with the abrasive grit of sugar in the chocolate was almost too much to take at once. She moaned into the touch, and he sucked hard, bringing her nipple to an aching point. Her clit throbbed in time with each suck, her ankles tugging at the bindings as her thighs automatically tried to close and provide pressure for the insistent need there.


Wyatt eased back a bit, flicking her once more with the tip of his tongue. “So the question is, love, do you respond to the soft and sensual approach . . .” He reached out and circled her nipple oh so gently. “Or do you prefer a little bite?”


His thumb and forefinger clamped onto her, pinching. Her back arched off the table, a hot boom of need rippling outward from his touch. “Fuck.”


He chuckled, a darkly pleasant sound. “Well, that answers that. Guess it’s a good thing Jace talked me into buying some brutal little clamps for our trip.”


She shivered, and Wyatt cupped her other breast, bringing his mouth down again—sucking and laving, cleaning every drop of confection off her. The warm chocolate he’d painted on her belly dripped down her sides, making it feel like she had more than one hot tongue licking at her. Even the sticky, wet sounds of chocolate-covered lips against skin were driving her to the brink of desperation. She wriggled beneath him, the need coiling and pulsing in her, energy demanding to be let out.


He gave her thigh a sharp little smack while grazing her nipple with his teeth. Stay still. He didn’t have to say it; she got the message. Her fingers gripped the table harder, and moisture coated her sex, her own scent drifting up to her nose and mixing with the orange from the chocolate.


The house phone rang, startling her for a moment, but Wyatt lifted his head, looking down at her. “Ignore it. All your focus on me and what you’re feeling.”


“Yes, sir.”


The phone continued to ring as he straightened and grabbed the bowl again. Before she knew it, he was in between her spread thighs, looking down at her with unabashed hunger. He lifted the whisk and drizzled the chocolate over her inner thighs and over her freshly waxed mound. The warmth alone reminded her of how it’d felt to have him come on her last night, his semen sliding down and over her back. It’d been one of the sexiest things she’d ever experienced.


He touched the lips of her sex, a gentle caress. “You’re so pink and swollen, love. I can’t wait to taste every inch of you. Would you like that?”


“Yes, sir,” she gasped. “Please.”


He grabbed her leg and drew his tongue up her thigh, licking off the chocolate and making her quiver. “I will. As soon as I get you all cleaned off. As much as I love your cooking, when I eat this pretty pussy of yours, I don’t want to taste anything but you.”


She whimpered at that, the pulsing in her clit becoming like a bass drum reverberating through her body.


Then he was doing exactly what he promised, tasting and dragging his tongue along every inch of her inner thighs, laving it off her mound, taking his time and driving her to a panting, begging mess. Unable to keep ahold of the table, her hand balled and pounded in a steady rhythm against the table, the energy having to go somewhere.


Wyatt paused in his tortuous treatment, his voice gritty with his own restraint. His thumb grazed over her clit, a gentle stroke, but it sent sparks through her nonetheless. “Touch your tits for me, Kelsey. And don’t be shy. Let me see just what you like.”


She raised her head to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark with intention as he hovered there between her thighs, looking up the length of her body. She held his eye contact and brought her hands to her breasts, cupping and sliding her hands over her wet, sticky skin. She knew how to do this for effect, to put on the dancer show, but she had no desire to fake it with Wyatt. So instead she touched where she needed and how she wanted, pinching and plucking at her nipples until they were pulsing in time with her clit. Then, lifting her head higher and arching her back, she grabbed her breast and did something she’d only ever tried in private. She dragged the tip of her tongue over her own nipple, tasting the chocolaty remnants. Wyatt’s groan echoed off the high ceilings of the kitchen.


“You are the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He held her thighs wide, his grip tight and his voice lowering. “You keep this up, and I’m not going to want to let you go at the end of this trip. I’ll be cuffing you to my bed so I can keep you.”


Her eyes squeezed shut and her hand fell away from her breast as startled alarm went through her. No. He wasn’t supposed to say things like that. He wasn’t supposed to make this more than it was. But before she could react further or respond to Wyatt’s declaration, he lowered his head and buried his face between her legs, his lips and tongue hitting her exactly where she needed.


She bucked against him, moaning, as he lit up her nervous system with his tongue. Thoughts emptied out of her head. All that was left was the mind-bending ecstasy he was giving her with his relentless, sensual ministrations. Breaking the rules, she reached down and threaded her fingers in his silky dark hair, her hips now rocking in rhythm with him, riding the pleasure. His nose nuzzled her clit as his tongue delved inside her fully, in and out in an erotic slide. Fucking her with his mouth.


She couldn’t hold it back or stop the pressure from building. And when he returned his full attention to her clit and buried his fingers inside her, everything burst through her like a flash of light. The table rattled beneath her as a shout tore from her throat and her body rode the waves of her orgasm.


He held her against his mouth, not letting up until her first peak had passed and another was building on its heels. Then when she was about to go over again, he rose up, grabbing at her thighs and yanking her ass to the edge of the table. Before she could take another breath, he slipped on the condom and pushed inside her, his cock thick and hot, stretching her without mercy.


“Again,” he demanded, thrusting into her with delicious brutality. “Come for me again. I want to feel you.”


She didn’t need the order. Her body was already charging up the next mountain. She wasn’t even sure the first orgasm had ever stopped. Her nails cut crescents into her palms and she cried out again, pleasure pulsing through her and her sex clasping around Wyatt.


He came along with her, and the world felt like it was spinning off course beneath her as he held on to her tight.


He’d said he might not want her to leave.


He wasn’t supposed to say things like that.


He wasn’t supposed to make her feel this way.


No, no, no . . .


CHAPTER FOURTEEN


Wyatt scanned through a report on his laptop and tried to make sense of the week’s numbers, something under normal circumstances he could do in his sleep. But this was the third time he’d been through the same report since the company jet had taken off, and he still hadn’t processed any of the information. His attention kept straying to the woman playing possum in the seat across the aisle from him. Kelsey had reclined her chair fully and had turned her face away, claiming she was tired from getting up so early.


But no one slept with a white-knuckled grip and breathing that shallow.


She’d admitted to him before getting on the plane that she’d never flown before and that she was nervous. He’d offered her a glass of wine to help her relax, but she’d quickly declined it. Now she was clearly going the try-to-tough-it-out-in-silence mode.


God, he was a mindless idiot. This morning in the kitchen he’d made the egregious error of speaking before thinking, which was something he thought he’d trained out of himself. But apparently when he was in the midst of fucking a beautiful woman on his kitchen table, his filter went to shit. He’d voiced his in-the-heat-of-the-moment desire to cuff her to his bed and keep her.


Fucking brilliant.


File that under Things You Should Never Ever Say To a Woman Whose Been Held Fucking Captive. He’d wanted to beat his head against the wall when he’d realized what he said. Stupid, stupid, stupid.


And it’d sent Kelsey into retreat mode as soon as she’d floated down from her orgasm. He’d tried to apologize, but she’d waved him off as if it hadn’t mattered. Sure.


Now, instead of allowing him to help her through her fear of flying, she’d shut him out with faux sleeping. He needed to fix this fast. Otherwise, they’d never pull off this sham. He needed her fully into this and feeling safe with him if they had any chance at this working. And beyond that, he hated feeling like he’d scared her in some way.


He tapped a few keys on his keyboard and kept his eyes on the screen. “I know you’re awake over there, so I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.”


She didn’t move.


“What I said in the kitchen was so out of line I can’t even begin to apologize. It was off the cuff, and I didn’t mean to frighten you.”


She remained still for a long moment, and he wondered if she was going to keep up the act. But finally she shifted infinitesimally, keeping her eyes closed, but letting him know she’d heard him. “It didn’t scare me like you think. Davis never said anything like that to me. He kidnapped me because he wanted the information I had. His obsession was with my sister. When he raped me, he told me how repulsed he was by me and blamed me for tempting him with my whorish body. He wouldn’t even touch me without wearing surgical gloves because I was so dirty. The silver lining is that it meant he wore condoms.”


Wyatt sucked in such a harsh breath, it felt as if his ribs would crack. Christ. The things she’d gone through . . .


She turned her head toward him, her expression tired. “He didn’t want to keep me, he wanted to hurt me, kill me. I know you’re not like him. You’re the opposite. When you dominate me, you . . . cherish.”


He did. Because he knew she was the most beautiful, precious thing he’d ever had the privilege of touching, but he didn’t say that aloud. In his gut he knew that wouldn’t be well received right now. Any attempt at tenderness or sympathy in this moment and she’d shut down. “Then what was it that upset you this morning?”


She shook her head, a sadness there. “Because we agreed this is temporary. What you said . . .”


Ah. He met her eyes. Was it possible she was more commitment phobic than him? He didn’t think that could ever be the case with a woman. But after what Kelsey had been through, how could she possibly trust anyone with her emotions? She was a survivor, and survivors learned how to protect their vulnerabilities at all costs. His heart broke for her. Being so jaded and world weary at twenty-five was its own tragedy. But at least this was territory he could handle. “I like you, Kelsey. I enjoy being around you.”


She flinched like he’d pinched her. And it confirmed exactly how averse she was to the idea of this turning into something emotionally driven. He had to make it clear that he wasn’t there to sell her that bill of goods—even if it risked him sounding harsh. She’d appreciate that more than coddling.


“But this arrangement we have is about two things for me: my business and a little fun. In that order. This is not me trying to manipulate you into a relationship, and it’s not me trying to convince you into some master/slave setup beyond our training. I told you I don’t have room in my life for either.”


Her expression remained wary.


“We made this agreement because I need your help and you need mine. A very nice side benefit is that I get to have you in my bed and under my tutelage for a little while. I consider that a great privilege and don’t take that lightly.” He closed his laptop screen and turned toward her. “But that’s all it is. Anything I say in the heat of the moment is simply dirty talk and errant thoughts.” He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it. “You don’t have to run from me, love. I’m not trying to catch you.”

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