Keep (Command #2) (10 page)

But he should have known this was a mistake — he’d made enough of them already. The hurt look on her face made him wish he were dead. He was so fucking selfish. He’d left her leaning against the wall where she could barely stand. He should have stayed on his knees and finished what he’d started, instead of thinking about himself. Maybe he could apologize and she’d forgive him mid-orgasm —

Her eyes narrowed to slits.
Scheiße
. That wasn’t going to happen.

“You think” — her voice hardened with every word like she was gathering strength — “that I need you for that?”

He didn’t understand, not until one of her shaky hands drifted down to her hip. Lower, and then she touched herself. His mouth hit the floor. Once again, he’d miscalculated. Underestimated her. Of course she didn’t need him. She’d spent her marriage being unfulfilled by her husband, so she’d taken matters into her own hands, so to speak. The darkest part of him was thrown into chaos. He wanted those to be his hands. He was supposed to bring her to ecstasy with his touch, not her own.

“Fuck,” he breathed, watching her rub herself. A woman who knew what she wanted was deeply erotic. Willing to get what she wanted. How could he stop her? He didn’t want that. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. Her icy blue eyes locked onto his and he could see everything. That she was terrified to do this in front of him, but her desire for power and control was greater. Her craving was greater. It almost collapsed his knees watching it, the most intimate act she could show him.

He murmured encouragement, making sure to soften the hard edge of the words so her American ears would know he was anything but angry. Words of power, of strength. He told her he was her slave, that she had rule over him, and everything he had was hers.

When her breath quickened, he jammed a hand inside his pants because he was too desperate and aching not to. She parted her lips and struggled to breathe as a tremble overtook her whole body… and just like that, it stopped. Like she was finished. She straightened and pushed her skirt down, ripping her eyes away from his. Guilty.

“No,” he said. “No.” He came to her and put his hands on her, wanting them everywhere. On her breasts. On her legs. Inside her again. “Was that supposed to be an orgasm?”

He silenced her protest with a kiss, one that he hoped was convincing. The need for her was overwhelming, and he was certain he’d die if she stopped him now. Instead, she shifted the angle of her head, increasing her kiss to an intensity she hadn’t given him before.

He did have to stop, only for a moment, as he yanked her shirt over her head and tossed it away. Her fingers raced at the buttons of his dress shirt, pushed it down his shoulders, freeing him. She was as anxious to have her skin on him as he was, and their hands met fumbling at her bra clasp.

Warm, soft skin pressed against his chest. Her breasts were amazing and tasted even better. She whimpered with pleasure when he flicked his tongue over a nipple and watched it peak to his command. The zipper of her skirt was easy enough, and it fell to her ankles, leaving her naked except for the sinful red shoes. There shouldn’t be any turning back now, but he’d been dumb enough to think that before.

“Kara,” he said, his voice as desperate as he felt. His mouth was on her neck, avoiding the place where the knife had drawn blood the night before. “You know what I want.”

Her lips trembled. “Then take it.” Like she was surrendering completely.

Fucking yes.

He didn’t mean to be rough when he threw her on the bed. He stood at the edge, looking down at her gorgeous body splayed across the sheets, her long legs that ended in those shoes. He didn’t want her to take them off, not ever. It took him no time to release his pants and step out of his underwear.

Heat and concern flooded her face when she saw him completely undressed.

“I can go slow,” he said. He’d do whatever she wanted. He drifted a hand down the curve of her body, pausing at her knee when he thought of something. “How did you do it with Paul? Him on top?”

The question startled her motionless. She nodded slowly, clearly anxious about why he was asking.

“Get on your hands and knees.” He didn’t mean to issue it as a command, although it sounded that way, forcing him to hold his breath. His intent wasn’t to control, but he couldn’t help it.

But she did as he asked, her whole body shaking. He grabbed a condom from his pants and rolled it on, trying to steady himself. For the first time ever he had a twinge of nervousness. More than a twinge — he was almost shaking as bad as she was. He used his fingertips to trace a line down her spine and gently guide her lower on the bed so she was where he needed her to be. So he could ever so slowly press himself into her.

She gasped at the invasion.

His hands fell to her waist to draw her slowly further onto him, and she reached back and grasped one of his wrists, perhaps signaling him to stop. But he couldn’t. His body and his desire for her wouldn’t let him.

“It’ll be worth it,” he said, almost like an apology, when he pushed all the way inside. The hand she used to support herself clenched the sheet into a white-knuckled fist. For a moment he couldn’t move, he couldn’t blink. The only thing to do was to listen to her struggle for breath through her clenched teeth. When she inhaled deeply, he drew his hips back and then gently urged them forward so they were utterly connected again. She was unbelievably tight, and just this small movement threatened to make him embarrass himself.

She made a soft noise that seemed to be pleasant surprise. Enjoyment.

He strengthened his hold on her, fighting the need to thrust. Every cell in him screamed for release, but it was much too soon for that. He pulled out almost completely and then eased inside once again. The hand on his wrist clamped tighter. Signaling pleasure.

“Yes,” she whispered.

That single word annihilated his control. He drove into her then, establishing a building rhythm that caused her to arch her back and moan. Thank god she didn’t speak a word of German because the words tumbled from his mouth, filthy, nasty things she’d blush to hear.

At some point he either crossed over into English, or else she grew tired of the German, because she rose up on her knees and turned her head to him.

“Would you shut up?”

That made him smile and also made him unbelievably hard. He took one hand off of her hip, using it to cup her breasts and he buried his face in the side of her neck to whisper more dirty things to her in German.

It must have been his hands on her, for her breathing changed instantly and she was trembling all over again, building towards the end.

“Shawn,” she gasped, “don’t stop.”

Nothing in the world could make him. He could hear the evil smile in his voice when he asked, “Why?”

“I’m going to…”

“Tell me.”

Her eyes fell closed under his power, her face full of pure concentration. “I’m going to come.”

She was about to bring him there, too. His hand crept away from her hip. She didn’t need his guidance any longer. His fingertips caressed her trembling belly, then down, further until he was touching the slick button of flesh that would send her over the edge.

“My hands are on you,” he said, “I’m so fucking hard inside you. I don’t want you to be quiet.”

She convulsed at his words, cried out loudly when her orgasm struck her powerfully. She was quaking in his arms when he drove into her a final time and found his own end, his hands clamping down on whatever was beneath them, her flesh. He seized and moaned, over and over again while holding her still.

When he released her, they collapsed forward on the bed, aftershocks from her orgasm causing her to shudder. When her breathing began to slow, he rose up on an elbow to kiss her, but came to a stop. “Did I hurt you?”

“Maybe a little at first, but I’m fine.”

“Then what’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, looking confused. “Why?”

“You can’t tell? You’re crying.”

Her hand flew up and confirmed what he’d just said. She wiped at the tears quickly as if horrified.

“I’m sorry, I don’t cry. Don’t….” She took a deep breath that seemed to even her out. “It’s a physical reaction. Don’t worry, it doesn’t mean anything.”

He didn’t believe her, but he could pretend, like she did.

-6-

While Shawn was in the bathroom, Kara kicked off her heels, climbed under the sheets, and pulled them tight around her. He’d shaken her to her core and she was still trembling to prove it. What had they done? What had he done to her?

When he finished, he came to the bed and yanked the sheet off, her skin instantly pebbling in the cold.

“No hiding,” he said.

“I’m not hiding.” Yet she searched for something else to cover up with. Just because they’d had sex didn’t mean she was comfortable being naked around him.

He gently pulled her up onto her knees facing him, her naked body pressed against his. Then he kissed her. Oh, god, how he kissed her. His mouth on hers made her bold, fearless, and hungry. It was passionate. It said that the fire between them hadn’t dwindled — it was building into more. Then he pushed her down on the bed with firm hands.

“What was that for?”

He grinned. “You don’t like it when I’m nice to you.” His appreciative eyes wandered over her naked skin and she felt a blush heat her face. He was just as confident without a stitch of clothing on as he was dressed, and he strolled over to the mini-bar, opening a bottle of red wine.

Since he couldn’t stop her, she pulled the sheet around her again. “For being the CEO of a beer company, you drink a lot of wine.”

“Would you like a glass? I’m sure the fridge is stocked with beer, but it’s probably not Budweiser.”

The muscles in his bicep flexed subtly when he uncorked the bottle and poured a glass. Holy crap, he was a beautiful man.

“I’d rather have the wine,” she said.

He poured a second and came back to her with a glass in each hand, extending one out, frowning at the sheet. The glass drew back when she reached for it. “I should mention this glass comes with strings.”

She paused. “You’re going to have me so wrapped up in your strings I’m not going to be able to move. What are they?”

He smirked. “That we get to do that again.”

“Now?”

The smirk froze. “Uh, not right this very moment.”

She took the offered glass and a wicked smile warmed her lips before she took a sip. “Need a minute, do you?”

This challenge backfired when he took both of their glasses and set them on the nightstand. He crawled onto the bed. He hovered over her, tugging the sheet out of his way. “How about we focus on you for awhile? I can catch up later.” His sinful mouth dipped down, skimming over her cheek, drifting down to her lips. “We have all day.”

He teased her with his tongue. Its indecent stroke in her mouth was coupled with his hands on her breasts. His thick hair was soft in her hands when she tunneled her fingers through it. Oh god, she wanted him again.

But his phone rang, forcing his head up. The bed rocked as he climbed off and dug the ringing phone from his discarded pants, glancing at the screen. “It’s Jason.”

During the ensuing conversation, he bent down and pulled his underwear on, following with his pants. When it was over, he set his gaze on her. “I don’t want to say this, but you should get dressed. The security team will be here in ten minutes.”

She scrambled for her clothes, hurrying, feeling marginally less scattered with them on. Her hair was easy enough to get back in place, her feelings much less so. He pulled his arms into his suit jacket, but paused when she stepped into the red shoes.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Your shoes.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her heels.

“What about them?”

He came to her, brushing a hand over her cheek. “Never mind.”

She didn’t wait for him to kiss her. This time she took the lead. It was meant to be short and sweet, but that obviously didn’t figure into his plan. Shawn didn’t do short and sweet. Arms wrapped around her back, pulling her tighter, bringing her closer so she was fitted against him.

“What are you doing?” she said.

“I find you distracting.”

The knock on the door made them both stop and separate. An impatient male voice came from the hall. “Shawn.”

When Shawn opened the door, the younger, broader, physically intimidating version of Shawn stepped inside, followed by two other men in dark suits. Jason’s brown hair was almost the same length as Shawn’s, but he had a few days worth of stubble decorating his face. That and his jeans made him look much more American than his older brother.

Jason’s gaze scanned the room and accessed everything in a moment. Kara was fully clothed, as was Shawn. They were standing across the room from each other and hadn’t spoken.

But the bed.

It was unmade and two glasses of wine sat together on the side table. When Shawn had burst from the bedroom yesterday, she couldn’t have imagined someone could move faster, yet Jason made Shawn look slow. He had his brother slammed against the wall in a heartbeat, a forearm buried into Shawn’s chest. Almost the same spot where Shawn had pinned her to the wall.