Cuff Master (12 page)

“Sure, ask anything you need to.”

“I told you about thinking my mom spoke to me the night she
died.”

“Yes, I remember.” Morgan set her half-full bottle on the
table next to Ethan’s and extended her free hand and he placed his hand in her
palm.

“Do you think it was her? Was it my imagination or
coincidence about the timing?”

“There’s no definite answer. Yes, I believe she reached out
to you.”

“Why didn’t my dad talk to me? What if he thought I didn’t
love him enough or loved her more?”

“You were incredibly close to your mother, Ethan. It doesn’t
mean you didn’t love your dad or that he didn’t love you. I get the sense that
your parents loved all their sons equally. When you got the call about the
accident, what was your first thought?”

“I was afraid they’d suffered. I was told the damage to the
car was violent.”

“My god, that’s awful. When my dad died, he contacted me to
let me know he was at peace. Maybe your mom came to you to reassure you that
neither she nor your father suffered. Isn’t she the one you went to for a
scraped knee or when you were scared?”

“Yes, always. Guess I was a mama’s boy.”

“You were a boy who loved his mom. Sometimes the middle
child gets lost. Phalen can be larger than life and a force to be reckoned
with. There’s a darkness about him that scares most mortals. I’d guess that
darkness came from the horror he’d seen in war. Cassie is the light to his
darkness, calming him, centering him.”

“Go on, this is fascinating.”

“I’d imagine while growing up he wanted his younger brothers
to know he was king of the hill, daring one of you to attempt knocking him off.
Taran was the charmer who got away with all sorts of troublemaking. “

Ethan grinned. “Nailed them perfectly, honey.”

“Don’t you see? You found yourself with your mom’s guidance.
You’re still every bit of a dominant Maddox. And that came from your papa.
You’re just more centered and even-tempered, similar to your mom. Between us, I
bet she knew exactly how to put her sons in their places when necessary.”

“She did,” he admitted, looking a little wistful. “She had
to. Taran was hell on wheels. Phalen was in all sorts of trouble because he
wanted everyone to notice him.”

“And you? What trouble did you get into when you got a
little older, Detective?”

“Girls. For some reason, they loved me. Mom thought it was
unbecoming of a lady to ask a young man out, but they were constantly traipsing
in and out of the house or calling at all hours of the day or night. One crept
into my window after midnight.”

“Goodness, what happened?”

“I kicked her ass out, gently of course. I’d only talked to
her twice in high school. Not only that, I’d asked Mary Smith to the prom. I
wasn’t going to hurt her feelings or two-time her.”

“That’s why the girls loved you, Ethan. You’re trustworthy.
I’m betting you’re cuddly too.”

“Jesus, woman, I’m not a teddy bear. Always remember, I’m
more of a grizzly than a child’s plaything.”

“To me, you’re special. And I’m not afraid of a little ole’
grizzly bear.”

“That a dare? Care to find out how hard I bite when I claim
what’s mine?”

All at once, the wanting and seven months of waiting for
this moment collided deep in the soul of her pussy. She wanted sex,
soon…no…now.

Unsure how the tide turned, Morgan brought his left hand
across the table to lift them up to her mouth.

“Yes, Ethan, I’d like that very much,” she said, watching
his gray eyes darken to molten pewter.

His nostrils flared. His face flushed crimson. Then she
turned her head and nipped his fingertip, hard enough to leave a mark. “I bite
hard myself, see?”

Ethan snatched his hand back, rose from the bench and damn
near leapt over the table to stand before her. “Up. Now.”

That’s all he said. Two words got her standing before she
blinked.

The next thing she knew, the ground dropped out from under
her feet as he swept her up into his strong embrace and right over his broad,
broad shoulder, clamping her in place with his arm across the back of her
knees.

Whoa, the man might have the perfect ass, a trim waist and
sculpted muscle, but his shoulders were gigantic. And boy oh boy was he tall.
It was a long way from where she hung to the floor.

“The dishes!” she pointed out, yelping a little as he
stalked by two curious cats to reach the stairs. She tried pelting his gorgeous
butt with her fists and all it got her was a slap on the derrière with his free
hand!

It stung enough to make her gasp, setting off a lightning
storm of heat that spread from his big hand still squeezing her ass to her
clitoris.

“They’ll keep. You, my sweet Morgan, are about to find out
what it means to be mine.”

With little preamble, he rushed up the stairs without
pausing to catch his breath or showing any sign that she might be a little too
heavy. She was trim but tall!

“What does it mean?” she asked as they crested the stairs.

“It means I’ve a voracious sexual appetite and you’re about
to feed it. You prepared for that?”

“Yes. I’m ready for you.”

Ethan stomped on. Even though he’d turned Neanderthal in the
blink of an eye, it was exciting to be the recipient of unrestrained passion.
He was wrong to see himself as a mama’s boy.

He was all man, Alpha and Morgan’s Dom. Being with him was
her purpose in life.

Ethan carried her into the bedroom, pausing. “Cats nearby?”
he asked impatiently.

“Downstairs,” she answered, finding it endearing that he’d
make certain Samson and Delilah weren’t in any danger before he kicked the
bedroom door closed.

With the kitties safely barred from the room, Ethan
continued his path to the bed. Again he stopped and turned. “Can you reach into
the bedside drawer there?”

Morgan pushed herself up a bit awkwardly but felt confident
that he wouldn’t let her fall. Seeing the drawer, she opened it and looked
inside.

A big box of condoms resided in the drawer next to a paperback,
Ethan’s wallet, badge and a small safe. She didn’t ask why the safe was there.
It was probably where he’d stored his department-issued handgun.

“Morgan, condoms, grab as many as you can.” His breathing
was heavy and his voice dipped so low and hoarse, it sent shocking tingles of
delight up and down her spine and zinging to her clit.

“Sorry,” she murmured. She’d never heard him so impatient
before. Then again, she’d never been so turned-on by a man in her life.

She loved this dangerous side of Ethan. He’d never really
hurt her, but he sure knew how to make her think he was a big bad bear.
Reaching out for the box, she grabbed the whole thing, opened it quickly and
took out a strip of three.

“Is three enough?” she asked.

“It’s a start.” A start, had he really said that? “Drop them
on the table.” The bossiness in his tone was unmistakable. To do anything else
wasn’t an option because Morgan wanted to obey his order.

As fast and furious as the last few minutes had been,
somewhere in that time Morgan discovered that if she were to balk or say slow
down, Ethan wouldn’t hesitate to follow her wishes.

The sense of power that gave her helped to free her mind.
She didn’t want to slow down.

Putting the strip and the box down, she waited to see what
was next. “Blood’s rushing to my head. Could you take me off your shoulder,
please?”

In an instant, Ethan safely maneuvered her off his shoulder.
Feeling as though she was on the downside of a roller coaster, she enjoyed the
rush as he caught her close and lowered her to the bed with a gentleness that
belied the grizzly bear ferociousness.

Amazed, Morgan stared up at him. He was so beautifully
handsome, raw and sexy.

He leaned down over her, his mouth a whisper away from hers
as he reached behind her head to unfasten her ponytail, and then he was kissing
her. Gently at first, he nibbled, taunted, licked and sucked, teasing and
thrilling her with his slowness.

Morgan sighed. Ethan groaned.

Gentleness evaporated behind full-fledged need. His tongue
thrust between her lips, searching out hers and claiming her mouth as his. In
and out, his tongue thrust, twirled and withdrew, drawing her into an intimate
dance.

He smelled good and tasted delicious, with a slight edge due
to the bite of Guinness. He was clean and male and more intoxicating than ale.

And he must have placed her on the mattress exactly the way
he needed in order to land with his legs between her spread thighs. Their
groins met. The heat and pulsing fullness of his cock rubbed against her mound,
pressing, demanding, rubbing some more.

The tension that’d been building within her all evening grew
tighter, feeling as though someone or something was striking a harp. The more
Ethan ground his hips, the more she thrust back, the more the chords hummed.

Ethan drew back some and stood. It was then that she noticed
her legs were hanging off the side of the bed. She propped herself up on her
elbows to enable herself to watch as he unbuttoned the top button of his jeans.

“Come to me, big boy,” she heard herself taunt as he slowly
drew down the zipper.

Glimpsing the white boxers he wore and his purplish smooth
cock head poking out from above the waistband, she didn’t even realize she
licked her lips. Uncertain yet how long his cock was, she had a pretty good
idea.

“All in good time, Morgan,” he promised.

With an efficient shove, the jeans and boxers were down to
his knees. His cock fell forward, huge, rampant and pointed right out at her
from a nest of blond hair and full healthy testicles. Along with inches was
girth! Gracious, she’d never fit her fingers around him.

“My god,” she whispered, truly awed by the most beautiful
cock she’d ever seen. Not even the nude models she’d seen in magazines could
compete with Ethan Maddox.

He was circumcised, which didn’t surprise her. What surprised
her was the intricate pair of police-style handcuffs tattooed on the inside of
his right hip. The ink work was amazing, detailed with silver ink and outlined
in black to make it look authentic.

“Wow, Ethan,” she said, wanting so badly to touch the cuffs.
“How did you make silver ink?”

“Gray and white,” he answered, shoving his jeans the rest of
the way down his legs to his feet and stepping out of them. “All the ink in
Maddox tat shops is handmade.”

“That’s a talent.”

“Thanks. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to get
you naked. Assuming, you’re okay?”

He ever so gently tapped her bandage to make sure her head
was fine. She was better than fine. She was loved.

“If you don’t fuck me soon, I’m going to jump your bones and
say to hell with the consequences, Sir,” she said, intentionally taunting him
to show who was boss. He was, but she had the right to make demands of her own.

Again his nostrils flared. His mouth lifted in a momentarily
vicious-looking sneer. Her bear returned in full force. Catching her shoulders,
he jerked her forward until she was sitting up.

Gone was the nice guy who’d taken care of her for two days.
Gone was the one who’d made her dinner. In his place was a man who took hold of
her sweater, tugged and ripped it right down the front.

“Ethan!” she screeched, stunned when fabric went flying.

He was a bit more patient with her skirt. But thankfully, he
didn’t slow down or apologize. He didn’t have to.

Together they worked to unhook the back of her black B-cup
bra. His eyes narrowed as he smoothed the lacy straps down her elbows,
revealing her rounded breasts tipped with dark rosy areolas and tight nipples.

She wasn’t overly big or too small. Yet she’d always felt
feminine and filled out her pretty bras rather nicely. The way Ethan stared
down at her made her smile.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he
complimented, his hands trembling some when he pushed the straps the rest of
the way down her arms.

Morgan shook the bra off. Ethan dragged the matching black
panties down her long legs, casting them to the floor.

“Don’t move, gorgeous,” he warned, sinking down to the floor
on his knees.

Unsure what was happening, she started as he caressed his
hands up her knees to her inner thighs and spread her legs wide. His gaze lowered
to the center of her being, taking in the sight of her pussy, open and waiting
for him to fill.

“Let’s see what I can do to get you off,” he said, leaning
in and taking a deep breath.

Spreading her open even wider, he maneuvered her legs up and
over his shoulders and sank forward as she fell back on the bed and propped
herself on her elbows.

Ethan’s tongue, warm, wet and insistent, painted her pulsing
clit with consummate gentleness. Oh god, it felt so good, so indescribably good
that all she could do was open herself up to him as much as possible and ride
his tongue with subtle jacks of her hips.

“Fuck yes!” she cursed and didn’t care if she offended
someone. Nothing had ever felt so forbidden or wonderful. He kept at her,
nibbling, licking and suckling.

Having Ethan gently ravish her clitoris was wonderful. The
chord of need low in her belly grew tighter and tighter, vibrating to the point
that it threatened to snap in half. For a moment, Morgan thought she might
snap.

Ethan somehow sneaked his hand between her legs, smoothing
his big fingers through her trim pubic hairs and tickling her some, enhancing
the sensation of his touch and his tongue playing her the way a musician
strummed a harp.

“Give me your hand, honey,” he implored, having to draw back
slightly to speak.

“Don’t stop,” she pled, collapsing to the bed completely and
giving him her hand.

Tightening his fingers around hers, he drew her hand down
her flat belly straight to her clitoris. “Rub with me,” he urged, shifting to
tongue her tight vaginal opening.