His to Take (21 page)

Joaquin had more than a way with words in bed. He’d probably done this a few hundred
times. Bailey felt herself both falling under his spell and mentally flailing. How
did she answer him?

“I took something else off. Now it’s your turn. Your jeans would look better on the
floor.”

Where had that voice come from? She’d sounded almost seductive.

He gave her a hard stare. “Somewhere along the way, you’ve gotten the idea that sex
with me is an egalitarian activity. Let me assure you otherwise.”

“You think you’re going to run this show?”

“There’s no
think
about it, baby girl. Since you and I have come here, I’ve had more than a conversation
or two with Thorpe and Sean. I’ve realized a few things about myself.”

Callie’s assurances that Joaquin had all the earmarks of a Dom rushed back to her.
“Oh.”

“That bother you? Because if it does, we need to stop now and have a long talk.”

She could stop this train wreck with a little white lie. No exposing her small breasts
or her needy soul to a man who’d probably crush her in a single night.

Even knowing he would probably hurt her sooner or later, Bailey just shook her head.
“It turns me on.”

Relief slid across his face. “Good. I can tell that wasn’t easy for you to admit.”

“When I was a senior in high school, someone dared me to swallow straight Tabasco
sauce. That was easier.”

He laughed. “You’re an unpredictable little thing. I like it. I was expecting you
to be refined. Totally polite in bed. The real you is way sexier.”

Joaquin pressed their chests together. Bare abdomens met as he kissed his way up her
neck and consumed her lips again. At his first touch, he sent her reeling. That dizzying
slide into desire dragged her under even deeper, to a place where focus and restraint
burned away. She grabbed his steely shoulders and clung as she opened to him completely.

Just as he penetrated her mouth, he dragged his fingers up her rib cage and paused
under her breast. Her nipple beaded painfully in anticipation. He raised his head,
fixed utterly on her.

“Tell me to touch you,” he barked.

He wanted to be in control, but he’d promised her that he wouldn’t do anything until
she gave him a green light. For a moment, Bailey felt a sense of power that balanced
the scales a bit. It probably wouldn’t last long; she fully believed he’d take all
her control, then leave her whimpering and panting and totally sated.

“I’m not sure I’m ready,” she admitted softly.

He downshifted immediately, skimming his palm back down to her waist. “When was your
last lover?”

So far in the past, she was embarrassed to admit it. “A few years ago.”

“Years?” Joaquin let out a stunned breath, then caressed the side of her face. “Don’t
be nervous. I love everything I’ve seen so far. I have no doubt you’ll make me sweat
when I see the rest. Can you trust me on that?”

When he put it like that? Bailey nodded.

“Good. We’re supposed to have a safe word. It’s something you can say to stop the
action if I play too hard with you, but you can also use it if you’re feeling uncomfortable
or self-conscious. Would that help you?”

“Totally. Thanks.”

“How about . . . if we stay with traffic lights. You say ‘red,’ and I’ll stop touching
you entirely until we talk it out. Now, will you remove that damn scrap of lace over
your nipples before I lose my ever-loving mind?”

So masculine, so determined. And so something the female in her couldn’t resist. Bailey
did her best to shelve her worries. “Do it for me?”

“Oh, fuck yeah. Sit up.” He tugged her upright and rose above her, crouched over her
body, their chests nearly brushing.

His fingers prowled into her hair again, tightening slowly until he tugged, forcing
her to arch her neck just under his lips. His breathing picked up speed as he swooped
down and covered her lips again, diving in and tasting every recess.

Now that he had her where he wanted her, the hand he’d anchored in her hair skated
down her back, making her tingle. His other hand curled around her shoulder until
both met at the back of her bra strap.

Vaguely, she realized he must possess a lot of core strength to hold this position
above her without leaning on her or bracing himself on the mattress below. But as
soon as the thought formed, he’d unhooked the two little wire fasteners across her
back and she was free.

Joaquin didn’t bother taking the bra off. He inched back, pushed the cups up, then
lunged down, latching onto her left nipple and sucking it as deep as he could.

The contact was a lightning strike to her clit.

His fingers bit into her spine. He sucked in a breath as he all but inhaled her breast
past his lips. The suction jumbled her thoughts and blew her mind.

Bailey tunneled her fingers in his thick hair and pulled him closer. She surrounded
her fingers with the thickness and gasped. Breathing became irrelevant when he switched
to the other nipple, took a playful bite with his teeth, and swept it into the hot
oven of his mouth.

Quickly, she realized that the nip of his teeth both made her tingle and prepared
her sensitive flesh to take more sensation. She let loose a ragged moan. Her one attempt
at sex in yards of taffeta in the back of a moving vehicle hadn’t at all prepared
her for Joaquin.

“These are . . .” He shoved her back against the pillows and braced his forearms up
her back. His fingers curled around the front of her shoulders, positioning her exactly
how he wanted her before he returned to the first nipple. “So fucking incredible.
They’re even harder than they were a minute ago. I’m not going to let up on these
for a long while.”

And he meant that, taking Bailey along for the ride until her nipples throbbed, fire
laced her veins, and her sex ached.

“Joaquin!” She sounded like she was begging because she was.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

Bailey didn’t know. Harder. More. Something . . . She couldn’t get a word out, just
panted and fisted his hair.

He gave her a guttural growl. “Give me an answer.”

“I don’t know. I need . . .”

“Want me to give you what you need?” he asked as he transferred his lips to her other
nipple again, this time pinching the first in a relentless press.

She yelped, yet it felt so good. She wasn’t just drowning in pleasure; it was a riptide
with a vicious undertow taking her farther and farther down.

“Yes. Please. Now.”

“I’m going to make this so fucking good.” The sharp edge of his teeth scraped her
nipple again. “After I make you suffer a little.”

Suffer?
She hadn’t asked for that. “What?”

“You told me earlier that you were in the mood to make me wait. I feel exactly the
same.”

Before she could protest again, he dragged her bra strap down her arm, grabbed her
hand, and shoved it over her head. Edging up her body, he grabbed something just above
her. A second later, she felt soft but sturdy fabric grip her wrist. A clicking sound
resounded in her ears.

“Cuffs?” The thought both terrified her and made her swoon.

“I want you totally at my mercy.”

Somehow, she doubted he’d have much. He’d overwhelmed her in nothing flat. She couldn’t
wait for more.

“Say yes to me.” His hazel eyes bore into her, commanding her every bit as much as
his dark voice.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Before she could even blink, he yanked the other strap down her free arm, then slung
the lacy garment over one of the bedposts. She lay before him in nothing more than
a small, sheer pair of panties and a nervous smile as he restrained her other wrist
to the bed with a sure click.

Bailey’s heart leapt into her throat. Was she ready for this? Could she really handle
him? Joaquin played like a fantasy in her head, but reality . . .

“Relax,” he murmured. “I’m going to be all over you. There won’t be an inch on your
body that I haven’t touched when we’re done. But I won’t hurt you.”

Physically, she wasn’t worried. Emotionally? Was she that girl who couldn’t sleep
with a guy without caring more than a little? Prom hadn’t counted really. She’d had
a huge crush on Ryan and she’d been slightly tipsy. Buying into the fantasy that they
were some dream, meant-to-be couple while she’d been trussed up in white and he’d
worn a tuxedo had been awfully easy. Giving herself to Joaquin was something she’d
chosen while stone-cold sober. Not for a moment did she imagine they had a future.
Tonight, she could give in to the pleasure, give herself a reason to smile when winter
turned the skies cold, and enjoy being touched by a man who knew his way around a
woman. It was sex, pure and simple.

“I know.”

His gaze caressed her, reassuring and rewarding at once. Then his stare skittered
down her body, caressing every trembling swell and every shadowy dip. He lingered
on the stab of her nipples, still straight and swollen, all but begging. Joaquin dragged
his fingertips down her skin in a light caress designed to make her shiver. Into his
touch, she arched.

He cupped her breast, his palm swallowing her flesh. With a slow slide, he brushed
his thumb over the tip. Bailey’s breath hitched. Her whole body tensed.

“Sensitive nipples. I love that. Boobs are great, but the point of them is the nipples—literally.
I can’t wait to torture these and drench your little panties. Unless . . . Are you
already wet, baby girl?”

With an inquiring brow raised at her, his fingers began the inevitable slide down
her belly. The dim lighting had hidden the fact that he’d aroused the hell out of
her—until now. All he had to do was get his fingers over that silk and he’d know how
much he turned her on.

“Wait!”

He paused, his palm hovering just over her navel. “If you’re scared or upset, we’ll
figure it out. If you’re hiding from me, that’s not going to fly. Do we have a problem?”

“I-I . . .” She blew out a breath. Bailey didn’t understand the panic washing through
her. Wasn’t the point for him to arouse her so she could get wet and they could have
sex? “No. Not a problem.”

“Perfect. Tell me to feel your panties.”

The low rumble of his voice, coupled with his mesmerizing gaze, compelled her. Letting
him know that he’d aroused her gave him power. But she’d had underwhelming sex once.
Now she wanted to be turned inside out.

Bailey swallowed, gathering her courage. “Feel them. T-touch me.”

Something in his expression gentled for an instant before his eyes narrowed and the
predator in him came out to play. His fingertips made contact with her overheated
skin again. She jolted at his touch. Every time he put a hand anywhere on her, she
felt him all through her body. Why? How could he do that to her?

None of that mattered as his touch slid down, down, easing over the lace waistband
of her panties, then inched even lower. Finally, he grazed the silken fabric, now
thoroughly drenched by her arousal.

He applied more pressure with a low, appreciative moan. “That’s wet. So sweet. I can’t
wait to put my mouth right here . . .” He rubbed a little circle over her clit. “And
you’re hard, too. You’re ready to come, aren’t you?”

Bailey arched into his touch, hoping to deepen the pressure.

Instead, he eased off. “Answer the question.”

With a mindless whimper, she pulled at the cuffs, tried to lift her hips—anything.
He withdrew completely. “Bailey?”

“Yes. I want to.”

“Tell me in a complete sentence.”

“You’re making me wait,” she accused.

He nodded. “Just like I’m making sure I know exactly what you’re willing to let me
do.”

If she hadn’t been so turned on, Bailey knew she’d be mortified. But just the promise
of his fingers dancing over her sensitive bundle of nerves again was all she needed
to push past her embarrassment. “Please make me come.”

“Such sweet begging. I’ll definitely consider it. Soon.”

His words barely registered before he rolled on top of her and captured her mouth
in a demanding press, spreading her lips wide with his own, without patience or apology.
With the kiss, he seemed to take her entire body. She felt suspended by a thickening
line of desire. It held her afloat, against him, breath held, waiting . . .

Bailey lost herself in the skillful slide of his lips, the urgent surge of his tongue.
She curled her fingers into fists, wishing she could touch him, bring him closer—something
that would ease the ache now throbbing deep behind her clit.

Joaquin tore his mouth away, breathing heavily as he stared down into her eyes. “I
don’t know why the fuck you get to me this way. I wasn’t meant to touch you. I never
took you from your life with the intent to hustle you into bed.”

To most, she would probably have no reason to believe him. But she did.

“I never thought I’d trust you,” she admitted. “Then you were honest with me.”

He grimaced. “I was harsh. I’m sorry about that.”

“Make it better?” she asked breathlessly.

“It’s on.”

The words had barely cleared his mouth before he clasped his lips around her nipple.
Easing to her side, he didn’t let go, just drew her in more deeply. She groaned through
the suction, her legs shifting restlessly, parting.

Joaquin didn’t have to be tempted or coaxed. He glided his fingers unerringly back
to her clit as he nibbled at the hard crest of her breast again. The double-punch
stole her breath. Her sex gushed with moisture, more than ready to ease his path deep
inside her.

The teasing circles of his fingers didn’t speed up. He didn’t press harder. Instead,
his touch was a never ending taunt, a burning pleasure that built toward an incendiary
explosion. The little catches of her breath seemed to excite him more. The erection
he pressed to her thigh only grew thicker, harder. Damn, she wanted that.

Under his touch, the throbbing rushed up, crowding her senses. A surge of euphoria
momentarily robbed her sanity. Bailey cried out.