Page 11 of With this Ring (Mastered #7)

She couldn’t speak.

“Petal?”

How could she confess the truth? That she ached to be in his arms and snuggle against his strength, and more, that she wanted to be beside him, beneath him.

But a very real sense of self-preservation urged her to remain silent. Giving in to temptation with him a second time would only lead to heartbreak.

Three years ago, when he’d walked away from her without a backward glance, she’d been shattered, and she wasn’t sure she’d recovered.

After him, she’d made really bad choices with Toby that she was still recovering from.

How much worse would the devastation be if she surrendered to her emotional and physical needs again?

Despite the warmth, she shivered.

“Petal?”

In the fireplace, a log cracked, making her jump. “I…”

Waiting, he arched a single, dark eyebrow.

Her admission lodged in her throat as she struggled against the desire threatening her resolve.

“Are you going to sleep with me?” he asked again.

She was mad. But resisting him, and her own desires, was impossible. “With you.” She met his inscrutable gaze. Taking a deep breath, she quietly admitted, “But you won’t need to tie me up.”

“Fuck.” His curse was soft with repressed need.

In an instant, he was across the room, standing in front of her.

A muscle worked in his jaw as he regarded her. “Damn it, Sasha…” He reached out and traced her cheekbone with a fingertip.

Instinctively, she turned toward him.

“Tell me,” he urged.

Her heart thundered as he gently captured her face in his hands.

His gaze was intense, searching.

Like their last time together, his eyes were filled with desire. Unmistakable, raw desire.

She swallowed hard.

Here, with him, she was safe from the real world and its outside dangers. At least for now.

“Petal—”

“Take me to bed, Gregorio,” she whispered. “And I’m suddenly no longer tired.” Bravely, she met his gaze. “I want you. If you want me.”

“Jesus. Fucking hell, Petal.” His eyes darkened, making him even more formidable. “How can you wonder that?”

Her heart went into a freefall.

“Forgetting you—the way you taste, the way you respond—has been impossible.” His confession was gruff, filled with emotion.

Her mouth parted slightly. Do you mean that?

“You were my sister-in-law. I don’t want to fuck up your family life.”

She nodded, sharing the same fear. Yet… This attraction, this consuming need, was undeniable, despite the potential consequences. “No one has to know.” She wished her voice weren’t so wobbly.

“You deserve someone better than me.”

“That’s not true.” Sasha studied his face, memorizing his features. “You’re amazing.” One of the few people she’d ever been able to count on. “I want this.” Then she added, “You.”

For a moment, as if warring with himself, he frowned.

Finally, with a sigh, he managed, “I’ll protect you.”

“Thank you.” She was grateful he was thinking clearly because birth control would never have occurred to her.

“You know the Den’s safe word.”

“Halt,” she told him.

“Do you want a separate one for you and me?”

“That one is fine.”

“I will always honor it.”

Wildly, maybe recklessly, she wanted to know where this went. If she stopped playing with him now, she’d never know how it ended.

“Just so we’re clear”—he leaned in a little closer—“if we do this, there’s no turning back. You’re mine.”

She shuddered.

This was the Gregorio she recognized. Terrifying. Thrilling.

He offered a hand, and she slid hers against his much larger, stronger one, rife with calluses from hard, dangerous work.

After he’d helped her up, he continued to draw her toward him.

Then, purposefully, he leaned forward to capture her lips in a savage kiss—this time an explosion of sensation that deepened her need. He touched an emotional place in her that no one else had or could.

She’d never be able to get enough.

When he finally eased back, she couldn’t breathe, and she couldn’t look away from him.

Before she could think, he swept her up in his arms, wincing a little as he did.

“Are you okay?” she asked as he rolled her slightly toward him.

“Fine.”

Though she was skeptical, she looped her arm around his neck.

“The years I’ve dreamed of this…” Purposefully, he strode toward the bedroom as firelight cast its shadows around them.

“But you’re injured!”

“Never so badly that I can’t hold you.” After he crossed the threshold, he stopped, and his gaze locked with hers. “Nervous, Petal?”

Beyond words . “Should I be?”

“Yeah.”

Always the truth. Because of that, a shiver danced through her.

He lowered her slowly, sliding her down his body, the hardness of his cock unmistakable between them.

The knowledge that he craved her as much as she did him gave her a euphoric buzz.

But instead of releasing her right away, he held her waist. Slowly, intentionally, he leaned forward.

Possessing, demanding, tasting of hunger and fire, he took her mouth again.

She melted under his relentless, sensual onslaught, and she responded with equal urgency, threading her fingers into his hair.

She moaned, her body melting into his, craving the sensation of skin on skin.

Impossibly, he pulled her even closer, and he eased one hand down her back to cup her rear. His erection, hard and ready, pressed against her abdomen.

It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

He broke away, ending the kiss, leaving her emotionally bereft.

“Soon,” he vowed.

Every motion economical, he turned back the blankets before facing her to strip off his T-shirt.

She gasped at the sight of the gauze taped to his abdomen. “You are hurt.”

“A scratch. Nothing more.”

This time…a lie.

“Hazard of the job.” He shrugged.

His job—one of the reasons her sister had hated her relationship with him.

“You know how it is.” Studying her, he added, “You’ve had more than a few of your own.”

But not in the last few years.

Gently, Sasha placed a palm on his chest. “We don’t have to—”

“This won’t stop me from fucking you the way you deserve. The way I want.” Gregorio’s voice held a deep, gravelly rumble that sent shivers down her spine, holding hints of danger and control, intimidating as well as seducing her. “I promise you that.”

He ensnared her wrist and lowered her hand to her side. “Finish undressing me.”

“I…”

Rather than arguing, he raised an eyebrow in quiet expectation.

Dominant demand.

This man tilted her world off balance. She’d never dealt with anyone like him, and she wasn’t quite sure how to behave.

This close, she became more aware of his scent, cedarwood and wild, moonlit nights.

She allowed her gaze to wander over his battle-scarred upper body, taking in his broad shoulders and the way his honed muscles rippled with each movement.

A perfect smattering of hair dusted his chest, trailing downward to disappear tantalizingly into his waistband.

Sasha licked her dry lips.

For a flash of time, he’d been hers, but that suddenly seemed like an eternity ago, and he was once more a stranger who both intrigued and intimidated her.

“Waiting for something, Petal?” He considered her. “Or perhaps you’ve changed your mind?”

“No.” With determination, she shook her head. “Not at all. I just…”

He waited.

“I don’t know what to do. This is all…”

“New?” His lips twitched with a smile. “So tonight was your first visit to a BDSM club.”

Caught. At least she hadn’t lied out loud.

He drew a thumbnail across her upper lip.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Petal. I’ll tell you what to do. And you’ll be perfect.”

She wished she could believe it was easy.

“I can’t tell you how much it pleases me that no other man has dominated you.”

And he’d done that before, hadn’t he? At the wedding. Now she knew for sure that he’d been exerting sensual control over her.

“Start with my boots.” He sat on the side of the bed and nodded toward the floor.

The words were a command. Not a question.

Maybe she should be grateful for his guidance.

Heat rushing through her, she knelt.

This evening, she’d seen a lot of things at the Den, but she’d never imagined she’d be in this subservient position in front of any man.

Still… She didn’t hate it. The startling thought shocked her.

“Get on with it, unless you want to earn a spanking.”

Mouth open, she glanced up at him. “You don’t mean that.”

He clamped his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t I?”

Hoping he was joking, she removed his sturdy motorcycle boots, her hands shaking the whole time.

God help her. This felt natural—the way things should be.

Moments later, she tucked the socks inside the footwear and slid them out of the way.

“Good girl.”

She sucked in a deep breath and looked up at him.

“You like that, don’t you?” He captured a lock of her hair and wound it around his hand. “Being my good girl.”

No.

Yes.

Impossibly, she did.

Like the first time they were together, he forced her to explore parts of her personality she never knew existed.

“Admit it.”

“I…” With uncertainty, she licked her lower lip. “You know I do.”

Triumph and possession in his eyes, he released his grip and stood, bringing her face within inches of his crotch.

What was she supposed to do now?

“Remove my pants.”

Again, it seemed as if he’d read her mind.

Sasha reached for the mattress to steady herself as she rose, but he held onto her upper arms, forcing her to remain in position.

“Did I tell you to stand?”

“Uhm.” Her stomach plummeted. “No.”

“But I did issue a direct command, did I not?” His words were filled with deadly quiet.

“You did,” she whispered.

“I told you to remove my pants. Now give me the response I want to hear.”

Her pulse fluttered.

Into the thick, sizzling night air, she softly complied. “Yes, Gregorio.”

“Yes, Sir,” he corrected.

How could she?

How could she not?

“Yes, Sir.” The honorific undid her, melting her insides.

“Fuck . I love the sound of that word on your tongue.”

The purr of approval in his voice spiked her adrenaline. At this moment, she was under his control, yet simultaneously, she was stepping into her own power.

Fingers shaking, she fumbled with his belt buckle.