She forced air through her nostrils and they flared when he lodged himself in the back of her throat and remained there several long seconds. But he always seemed to know precisely when she’d had enough and was at her limit. He eased back, granting her the freedom to breathe and to swallow and steady herself.

Then he was back inside her mouth. Stroking. Thrusting. Fucking. All too soon he angled her head further back and tilted her mouth upwards as he pulled at his erection.

Hot semen splattered over her mouth and cheek but most he guided past her lips, over her tongue, filling her mouth. Then he slid back inside, slower, longer strokes now, forcing her to swallow his release.

When he pulled away, she was breathless, his taste on her tongue, her body burning for more.

He wiped the semen from her lips with his thumb and then walked away. A second later, she was lowered onto the plush rug below her on the floor. He turned her on her side so she wasn’t facedown and then he walked quietly away, leaving her bound, awaiting his attentions.

CHAPTER 23

The room was quiet. She had no idea where he’d went or even how long he’d been gone. She awaited the discomfort that would surely come from being bound in such a position, but in truth, she was comfortable on the soft rug.

What made her tense wasn’t discomfort. It was anticipation of when he’d return and how he’d take his pleasure this time.

When the footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor, a thrill rushed through her blood and hummed through her veins. Her body jerked a moment as she rose once more into the air and was suspended from the ceiling.

She spun in a slow, lazy circle before he put his hand on her leg to stop her progress.

“I wish you could see yourself as I see you.”

The first words slid over her skin like silk.

“Beautiful. Vulnerable. Open. Mine.”

The last word sent a tremble through her muscles.

His.

She loved the way it sounded. Loved the primal savagery that accompanied such a possessive statement. She was his possession. His woman. His to do with as he liked. Such power made her throat clutch.

He stepped between her splayed thighs. She was bound in such a way that her pussy was bared, thighs spread wide and legs doubled back and tied so she was unable to move even an inch.

He smoothed one hand over the curve of her ass, squeezing and caressing the plump flesh.

“Relax.”

The order was terse. He expected obedience. He was a patient man, but when he issued a command, he wanted immediate results.

She forced every muscle in her body to go limp.

She felt the probe of a large, blunt tip at her anal opening. She stretched around it before he pulled away and eased the pathway with lubricant. Then he pushed forward again and she tensed out of reflex.

He immediately stepped back and before she could even imagine what he meant to do, fire cracked over her ass, taking her breath away.

A crop. Just one pop, but it was enough to remind her of the consequences of inattention, no matter how brief.

Again she forced herself to relax and he began again, working the tip of the plug into her behind. He was gentle and in no hurry. He took his time until she was adequately stretched enough to push in the remainder of the plug.

She flinched and reared up, inadvertently causing herself to swing outward. Cole caught her, but instead of issuing another reprimand, he leaned down and kissed the center of her back.

“Shhh, darling. It will pass. Breathe and try to relax. Give it some time. I won’t rush you.”

His words more than anything calmed her and made her stop fighting the burn of the plug’s invasion. It was a large plug, larger than any she’d used in the past. But then he wasn’t a small man and if he planned to use her in that way, she’d need as much preparation as possible if he wasn’t going to hurt her in the process.

Sometimes she wanted the pain. She wanted to be taken without regard or consideration of her comfort. She wanted to be used, wanted to provide the ultimate pleasure for the man who owned her. But tonight, more than most, she felt more vulnerable, and while she wanted the hard, ruthless edges, she knew her limits weren’t quite as capable of being pushed as they normally were.

The gentleness mixed in with his dominance was what she most needed and wanted right now. He seemed so in tune with her emotions. Lucas had always told her a good dominant knew his submissive better than she knew even herself. He was right, and he and Cole both certainly seem to anticipate her needs before she was even able to articulate them to herself.

“All right now?” Cole asked as he caressed the small of her back.

She nodded, watching her hair bob below her as she hung from the ropes Cole had so intricately wrapped her in.

He stepped closer, running both hands over her ass before moving them lower to the backs of her thighs at the very top above where the rope was coiled around her legs. His fingers dug into her flesh and then she felt the hard probe of his cock.

In an instant he yanked her back at the same time he pushed forward. He was balls deep into her pussy, and she let out a hoarse yell at the shock of his invasion.

She was small, so much smaller now with the plug stuffed into her ass. Cole wasn’t a small man, but he felt enormous now inside her, stretching her, forcing her to accommodate him.

With her suspended by the ropes, he was able to move her freely, pulling her to meet every thrust. Then he held her immobile and began driving into her until her entire body shook with the force of his possession.

He curled his fingers around the ropes crossing her back and held on as he plunged into her over and over. Then he caught the ends of her hair and pulled until her head came up. He wrapped his fingers in the strands and continued to power into her.

She moaned when his hand drifted over the top of the plug buried in her ass. He toyed with the end, sending wicked sensations through her body. Then he began to ease it out, all the while making long, hard strokes with his cock.

Sweat broke out on her forehead and she bit her bottom lip to prevent herself from tumbling into oblivion. She wanted release. Needed to come so badly that she was afraid at the slightest touch, she’d break apart.

Then the plug slipped free and just as quickly, Cole withdrew from her pussy and then slid deep into her ass.

“Come, Ren,” he said in a harsh voice that told her just how close he was to his own release.

But she’d already begun to unravel the moment the bite of pain mixed with the heady pleasure of his possession had overtaken her. Her orgasm wasn’t a soft, ebbing tide but rather it was a tsunami that crashed over her at light speed.

She had no awareness other than sharp, unrelenting pleasure that seemed to become more explosive with each passing second.

The loud smack of flesh meeting flesh and her own staggered gasps filled her ears until it was all a roar she couldn’t distinguish.

The next thing she became aware of was being held in Cole’s arms. The rope was gone and he was gently rocking her back and forth, her head tucked beneath his chin.

He kissed her in between whispers, though she had no idea what he was saying. His hands slipped up and down her body, caressing and soothing. They were on the bed and it bewildered her that so much time had passed without her knowledge.

Without even realizing it, she wound her arms around Cole’s neck and turned her face further into his neck. He shifted her in his arms so she’d be more comfortable and then held her just as tightly.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

He stroked her hair and for a moment he didn’t speak. When he did, his voice cracked just a bit. Almost as if he’d had to take the time to compose himself to answer.

“I missed you too, darling Ren. So very much. I can’t tell you how much joy it brings me to have you back in my arms.”

She kissed his neck, inhaled his masculine scent, let it surround her and dance through her nostrils.

“I can’t let you go again,” he said in a voice so low she almost couldn’t hear him. “I won’t let you go.”

CHAPTER 24

Cole was awake early, as was his habit, but this morning he didn’t hurry to get out of bed. Today he awoke to a warm, soft body draped across his chest. Ren was sprawled over him, one leg curled over his and inserted between his knees. One arm was flung over his belly and her cheek rested against his chest.

He had his arms full of everything he’d ever wanted and he had no desire to end the moment. So he lay there, his arm wrapped around her body, stroking through her hair, listening to her breathe.

And he realized he’d never been happier than right here, right now. A month ago he would have said he was content. Satisfied. Or maybe it was that he was resigned.

He’d thought of Ren less and less as the years wore on. She had been relegated to his past. A part of a painful mistake he was forced to admit he’d made. Only when he’d seen her again, had he realized just how much he missed her presence in his life. How much he wanted her back. There was no possible way he could see someone ten years later and have that kind of reaction to if he wasn’t still seriously hung up on her.

Ten years was a damn long time. A lifetime for most. People did a hell of a lot of changing in a decade. He’d certainly changed. So had Ren. And yet in many ways they hadn’t.

The saying went that you couldn’t go back, but he could damn well go forward. With her.

He tilted his head down so he could kiss her forehead. She stirred and stretched sleepily before snuggling deeper into his embrace. He kissed her again simply because he couldn’t resist.

Her eyelids fluttered open and she settled her unfocused gaze on him.

“Mornin’,” she murmured.

“Morning.”

He wanted to turn her over and slide into the satiny clasp of her body. Wanted it more than he wanted to breathe. But he’d been rough on her the night before. He’d taken her many times and had used her hard. She was likely tender and he in no way wanted to cause her discomfort.

She pushed up on one elbow, her hair falling like a curtain onto his shoulder and over his chest. “I need to work this morning,” she said almost apologetically.

“Of course. I won’t interfere in your writing. I’ll come get you for lunch. Lucas said you have a bad habit of forgetting to eat.”

This time she didn’t seem to mind the mention of the other man in her life. He hoped in time she would become numb to hearing Lucas’s name.

She twisted her lips into a rueful smile. “Unfortunately he’s right. I tend to get caught up in things and let time get away from me. I’ve fallen asleep at my desk more than once.”

“Well, you have a few hours of work time before I haul you out for lunch.”

She grinned and leaned down to kiss him. “Deal.”

It felt odd to walk into the spacious room Cole had allocated as her work area. She was used to the study Lucas had set up for her. She was comfortable there. Knew where everything was. The furniture suited her. She even loved her desk.

Cole had certainly gone the extra mile to make her comfortable and he’d been exceedingly generous, but it was still new and unfamiliar.

Someone had unpacked all her things and had even arranged them, or had at least attempted the task. She began rearranging, needing the comfort of knowing things were where they should be and in order.

The first hour she spent putting her art supplies in order. By then she was itching to start creating so she settled at the desk and pulled out the leather-bound journal that had the first draft of her writing and her sketches.

Her process was likely more complicated than most, but it suited her and it gave her a measure of comfort. She always did preliminary sketches and the rough draft writing in the journal. When she was satisfied that she had things as she wanted, she then made hard copies that she’d eventually turn in to her publisher.

For each book she bought a different journal. She loved the feel of paper bound in leather. The pages had been faux weathered to give it a worn, aged look. And the cover was leather so worn and soft that she loved to caress it with her fingertips.

She was a very tactile person. She loved touch. Needed it. Lucas—and now Cole—gave her what she needed. They were openly affectionate with her. They seemed to need to touch her as much as she needed to be touched. Not every man she’d been with had been cognizant of her needs or perhaps they simply didn’t care to meet them.

But she found she suffered when she was denied close, personal contact. Which was contradictory given how closely she guarded her personal space and only trusted a few to get close enough to ever touch her.

She loved comfortable things, though. Shoes, furniture, journals. She surrounded herself with things that felt good and appealed to her senses.

But above all she needed and desired structure and routine.

She caressed the cover of the journal before opening it to the last page where she’d drawn the last sketch. Her pencils were in a cup to her right, colors in order of light to dark. As she reached for one to touch up a few lines in the picture, her cell phone signaled an incoming text.

Excitement surged through her. Lucas wasn’t much on texting. He much preferred direct communication, but she’d hoped that he’d at least contact her during the two weeks she was with Cole. Surely he would at least make sure she was happy.