Page 72 of Beneath the Burn

Charlee focused on the tattoo equipment in her hands, scrubbing the shiny steel until it shone and tucking it into a box. If she glanced up, she knew she’d be ensnared once again by the heat of Jay’s gaze. She was also certain that one more shared look and her devotion to equipment care would be deserted for sex.

Hard, rough, painful sex. The promise radiated from his stiff posture. Oh, he had one leg draped over the arm of the chair, the other stretched out in front of him to accommodate a full-body slouch.

He wasn’t fooling her. Aggressive arousal emanated from him in the unmoving way he watched her, the slack of his parted lips, the minute press of his fingertips in the armrest, and the tell-tale stretch of his fly. Her fingers itched to slip out that top button and free him.

Boisterous laughter stumbled in from the patio. Everyone had congregated outside with beer and chips, their spirited mood wafting into the night sky.

“You have a magical way of bringing people back to life, Charlee.” His timbre was husky, his gaze burning her skin.

Too bad she couldn’t bring nineteen-year-old girls back to life. She gave herself a mental slap. Hadn’t she beaten herself up enough? “Nothing’s more magical than a six-inch double rainbow over your ass.” She packed up the last machine and bent to close up the box. “All done.”

Fingers curled around her hip and she jumped. Sneaky bastard. She turned to face him with a spurt of mischief pumping through her veins. Stretching her jaw, she let out a dramatic yawn and snapped it closed. “Race you to the bedroom.”

She spun. Through the living room, down the hall, around the bend, she pushed off the wall and threw open the double doors to his suite.

The slap of bare feet closed in behind her, kicking up her pulse. He slammed the doors and caught her in his sitting room. Arms around her waist, he doubled her over the back of the loveseat. She clawed at the leather, tried to plunge headfirst into the cushions, laughter tearing from her lungs. Ass in the air—

Ow, fuck. He bit her. His teeth clenched through her jeans and pinched the crease between her thigh and cheek. His hand followed with a smack that shimmied a twinge from her hip to her feet. Wowza, he meant business. Desire curled in her pussy and pulsated with a force that stole her breath.

His weight bore down on her, chest pressing against her back and lips fluttering over her ear. “Go to the bedroom. Remove your clothes. Face the foot post on my side of the bed, feet spread and arms above your head. You have two minutes.”

She nodded, voice strangled, a fever blooming over her skin.

One minute later, she stood in the commanded position, her yearning wet and clinging to her inner thigh. She shuddered, the footfalls behind her magnifying the tremors.

Soft fabric touched her cheek, and the room disappeared. He secured a blindfold around the back of her head with a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No, Sir.” Damn, she sounded breathy.

He chuckled and gripped her wrists where they stretched along the post above her head.

The click-click-click of felt-lined handcuffs filled her ears and restrained her hands. She tried to lower them and they didn’t budge. “There’s a hook in the bedpost?” Had it always been there? Why?

“Had an eye bolt installed yesterday.” He slapped her ass.

The smack was lighter this time, but the sting lingered without the protection of denim. Her clit awoke, pulsing. “Harder.”

His breath came out in heavy gusts, tangling in her hair and winding down her body. He ran his hands along her stretched arms and circled her breasts, lifting them.

Was he naked back there? Was his erection straining to reach her? “Move closer. I want to feel you.”

He shifted, and the disappointment of denim brushed the backs of her legs. But, oh God, the heat pouring off his bare chest mingled with hers and plastered her flesh. He slid down her body until his breath brushed the apex of her legs. The throb there was met with the warm stroke of his tongue.

He covered her pussy with his mouth, his licks deep and urgent. She raised herself toward him and ground against his face. His groan vibrated inside and out as his hands heated every inch of skin he could reach.

His warmth disappeared, replaced with the chill of the A/C vent somewhere above her. She remained still, tried to follow the rustling sound of his jeans.

Whack.

Pain fired over her ass. Holy fuck. Didn’t he say he didn’t need to hit her—

Crack. Crack.

Both thighs. Low and sharp. Damn it hurt good.

The hollow sound of wood clattered to the floor. The bamboo pole? The scratch of his zipper lowering produced a clench between her legs. The velvety head of his cock rubbed against her folds, and she pressed her ass against him, needy and impatient.

Leaning against her back, his body engulfing her from head to toe, he must have caught his weight with a hand on the bedpost. His lips skid over her shoulder, his breath hot and rushed, his free hand squeezing her breasts and lowering over her belly, between her thighs, and guiding him to her center. Right there. Oh God.

He pushed in, and the sure-fire stroke shot ripples through her womb.

“Aw fuck. Your pussy just lets me right in.” His hips moved into a pounding rhythm. In and out in driving circles, his pelvis slammed into her backside and her mound rubbed against the unforgiving wood post. “Jesus, you feel good.”

The absence of sight intensified the scratch in his voice and the burn of his lips on her neck. He kicked her feet farther apart and his hands were everywhere, yanking her hips against him, squeezing her breasts, tugging on her clit. His torso, taut and smooth, glided over her back, flexing against her, controlling her movements.

He pinched her clit, and she sucked in a breath. His teeth sunk into her shoulder, and he pinched harder. The pressure was overpowering, demanding, pulling her in until nothing existed but the mounting stimulation.

She clenched her inner walls, tried to hold back the orgasm, to suspend the sensation, to savor the moment.

His tongue flicked across her skin between the brace of his teeth and his thrusts rolled and bucked. When his breath caught, she lost her self-control, her release pouring over her in powerful waves. “Ahhh, Jesus. Oh fuck.” Her body tingled, slumping in the clutch of his.

He rocked once, twice, and rammed to the hilt, grinding as he moaned a delicious cacophony of noises.

Hands slid over hers, and the shackles released. The blindfold followed, and she squinted against the brightness of the room. He scooped her up, arms behind her back and thighs, and tumbled them into bed. He positioned her on her side, tucked her chest into his, her head under his chin, and caressed a palm up and down her back. “Okay?”

“Mmm. More than.” She angled her head back and fell into his heavy-lidded eyes. “You used the pole to keep me guessing, didn’t you?”

His smile softened the strong lines of his gorgeous face. “If the threat isn’t there, if I never hurt you, you won’t anticipate.”

Hurt . The way he whispered that word reminded her of what it cost him. “Thank you.” She stretched her neck and covered his mouth with hers.

He parted his lips and rolled his tongue with hers. Tilting her head, he deepened the kiss, shifting her to her back and blanketing her with his body. His hands raked her hair, jaw working and tongue stoking a low burning fire.

When he slowed to a gentle slide of lips, she touched his cheek, smiled. “Good lord, you know how to kiss.” His head jerked back, and his eyebrows crawled together. She guessed he’d never tried to please a woman before, never needed to. But, holy shit, he was good at it. “What’s wrong?”

He rolled them to their sides, face to face, and smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. “When I kissed you in my room in New York—” he smiled, traced the shell of her ear “—that was my first kiss.”

Her heart gave a thump. He had intimacy issues, but surely he’d kissed someone at some point. “Ever?”

He shifted close, so close their noses touched. “Ever.”