Rippled (9 page)

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Authors: Erin Lark

BOOK: Rippled
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Darien set a hand on my shoulder and led us away from the centre of the yard and nodded for me to continue once we were in a more secluded area between two buildings.

“They eventually got her strapped in and gave her the injection. That’s when she reacted.” I averted my gaze. “I heard Malcom telling them to put her down. I don’t remember much after that.”

“And your memory?” Brian urged. “What was it?”

“I-I don’t really know. I just had this strong feeling that something wasn’t right.”

“Darien, we can’t let this go on.”

“I’ll check in on the clinic and take care of whatever it is Malcom left behind.” Darien squeezed my hand. “If you remember anything at all, let Brian know and he’ll bring it to my attention.” He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “But now, I really have to go. Don’t need Malcom seeing us like this.”

And with that, Darien was gone. I watched him go as far as my lousy vision would allow before I looked back at Brian.

“What now?”

Brian wrapped an arm around my waist as we started walking towards my house. “Try not to think about it. Everything will be fine.”

“What about the other guards?” I asked, lowering my voice when we walked past them. “How can you say everything’s fine when they’re the ones with the guns and armour? I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but those aren’t for tranquilisers. Those are the shoot-to-kill, never-ask-questions variety.”

“They’re meant to protect us,” Brian replied.

“From what? Have you taken a look around lately? There’s nothing for us to fear inside these walls. Just ourselves. And Malcom, apparently. Slow down,” I said, louder than I’d intended.

It got the attention of one of the guards, and in that very instant, Brian pushed me up against a wall. He shielded my body from the guard’s line of sight and kissed me—gently, barely there and electrifying all at once.

I wanted to hate him. For him to show a little more concern about the woman back at the clinic. To have someone to blame. To forget about whatever it was I’d seen.

And for a short, blissful moment, all I could think about were those damned lips, his sweet tongue and the feather-light touch of fingertips along the base of my spine. Whatever reasons I had for wanting him to slow down were gone. What the hell was I thinking? My mind was clear. I wasn’t drunk. And we had at least three days of time together until he returned to his own quarters. It was our routine. Expected. Who was I to disappoint?

The memory of what happened in the clinic flashed in the back of my mind. I closed my eyes and pressed my hands against his chest, willing him to break the kiss while my lips begged him to stay. He pulled away, but only when he was ready—only when we both were breathless and wanting so much more. We couldn’t move fast enough after that. And I wasn’t sure why I wanted it more—because of how he’d kissed me or because of the nightmare I was still having.

My legs ached to run, to reach my quarters that much sooner, but reason won out and we walked at a brisk pace.

Don’t draw any more attention to yourself.

I’d almost blown it back in the yard. We couldn’t afford one of my outbursts again. Not when the emotion was so raw. Not when our needs were so high. Tripping over our feet, we grabbed at each other’s shirts as soon as we were through the door. He crushed his lips to mine as I struggled with his belt buckle. He wasn’t doing any better with the buttons on my blouse.

Brian broke the kiss and held my chin in his hand. “Are you okay?”

I just saw a woman lose her shit. No, I’m not okay!

I pushed it from my mind, reminding myself that reliving her screams and Malcom’s orders wouldn’t change what had happened. It wouldn’t change a damned thing!

I told myself I needed this. An escape. A reason not to think—for my body to take over. And for the moment, it did just that. I let my mind go, focusing on his every touch, his every breath against my bare skin.

I cursed at his buckle, and breathed my relief when he undid it for me. I went back to work. He didn’t need me to respond. He knew how I was feeling, only this time
fine
was the truth.
Alive.
I was still alive. Still breathing.

For now, all that mattered was the hiss of fabric over skin as I let my blouse fall to the floor. My nipples were already hard from the changing temperatures, and I’m sure if they could’ve got any harder from my arousal, they would have.

After he’d tossed his shirt to the side, I put my arms around Brian, pressing skin against skin. He mumbled something above my head. A curse perhaps? He said it again, louder this time.

“Too many damned clothes,” he grumbled, pushing me back against the bed.

I cocked an eyebrow at him, lying back with his help. “You’re the one who had me change into my clothes, remember?”

Brian leaned over me, kissing me on the lips while he worked on the button of my jeans with his free hand. “A minor setback,” he breathed against my neck before licking at the small spot behind my ear.

“Wait,” I barely whispered, holding him against me at the same time. “I don’t… I don’t want to rush.”

We’d had this dance once before, only then we’d somehow forgotten most of the steps. Not this time. Not again. I wanted to soak in every ounce of him. The muscles along his arms. His abs. Every quiver of skin. I wanted to drink it all in. I wouldn’t close my eyes. I had to see it all. Every inch of him. Every curve of his body.

My chest tightened at the sound of a zipper as he continued to work on my pants, removing them completely when I lifted my hips off the bed. He stood up for a brief moment, tossing his pants and boxers on the floor before joining me. His skin was warm compared to my own, and when he seized my lips, I didn’t fight back.

He kissed me, passionately, with a hunger that couldn’t be matched. I kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm, seeking out his tongue, moaning when he drew arcs with his thumb on one of my breasts.

“You want it slow?” he asked, smiling at me. “I can if you want, but you should know what you’re getting yourself into. I’ll move so slow and you’ll beg me to either stop or get it over with.”

“W-why would I want you to stop?” I arched my back when he pinched a nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Because,” he began, whispering into my ear in the sexiest voice I’d ever heard on him, “by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be out of your fucking mind.”

“Mind games, huh?”

“Only the best.”

I instinctively went to close my legs when his hand pressed against my underwear. He quickly got rid of them and made a sound of approval before biting against the side of my neck. My breath caught, and my hands searched for something to hold. Something to touch. They settled against the back of his neck, my fingers curling in the little hair they found there.

“Scootch over,” Brian growled, nearly hoisting me over to one side of the bed so he could join me.

I wasn’t sure when we’d lost our shoes, but when my toes curled, all they met with was the air around us, which was heated by our bodies. Brian moved slow. Almost too slow, but fast enough to promise some kind of end.

He walked his fingers down from the side of my neck to one of my breasts, squeezing the nipple. He followed the same trail with his lips, leaving kisses on my skin. I shivered, and he moaned against me. I held my breath, willed my heart to slow down. To stop. It sped up, almost crashing against my ribs when Brian’s lips wrapped around a nipple.

My fingers clawed at his skin, but either because he liked it or didn’t care, Brian didn’t stop me. He didn’t stop at all. His tongue drew tight circles around my nipple, followed by his teeth gently biting at the flesh before giving the same attention to the other one. By now, my head was spinning, and I couldn’t decide between keeping my legs shut or parting them as far as they would go.

I squirmed under his weight as he held an arm over my hips to keep me still. It only helped a little. He was right there, and yet the little bit he did touch wasn’t nearly enough for me. I struggled to speak, to find the right words. But I couldn’t say a damned thing. I didn’t speak, didn’t breathe. I barely moved.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I finally gained control over my body again. I moved my hands from behind his neck to his sides, down his chest and over his abs to his hardened cock, which filled my hands. It twitched as I rubbed up and down its length, giving special attention to the head.

“That…” Brian moaned, his attention to my breasts lost thanks to what I was doing to his cock. “That feels… That… Just like that. Don’t”—he swallowed hard—“don’t stop.”

A smile played on my lips, and I slowed my strokes. I went down when he wanted up. Up when he wanted down. Slow when he wanted me to go fast. Fast when he needed me to go slow. Whatever he expected me to do, I did the complete opposite. If he was going to tease my mind, I figured I could do the same in return.

It’s only fair after all.

He groaned with what I assumed was frustration, his muscles tensing when he grabbed both my wrists, holding them on the pillow above my head. “Tease.”

“What can I s—?”

He held a hand over my mouth. “No more talking. No moaning. None of it. Understand?”

My heart jumped, and I wasn’t sure if I was more afraid or excited by my inability… No, my lack of permission to speak. To cry out. I couldn’t even whimper. We’d tried making me his sub once before, but even then, the fight for control had been mutual. I never thought he’d actually…

Jesus Christ!
His hands. My clit.
Damn him and his touch. His mind games.

My eyes went wide as my head flew up off the pillow.

“Relax,” Brian ordered, his eyes darkening the slightest bit.

That’s easy for you to say. You aren’t the one with a hand…

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back. A tremor ran up and down my spine as his index finger drew tight circles around my clit. My back arched away from the bed against all attempts to keep still.

He didn’t ask you to keep still, remember? First he uses my wanting to go slow against me. Now this? Mind games indeed.

Everything I wanted to do was taken away from me. I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t tell him what I wanted. How his fingers on my clit made my body jolt.

There. Right there. Keep doing it. Like that…just like that. Don’t stop.

Or how badly my hands ached to touch his skin. To brush my fingers through his hair. To wrap them around his cock. To feel him twitch.

He lowered his head to bite at the side of my neck, and I sucked in a breath. Held it. Let it out again when his fingers stopped dancing on my clit. But the break from his delicious torment was short-lived. Keeping his lips against my neck, right where he could feel my heart race, he moved his hand lower, parting my pussy lips with a finger.

“Mmm,” Brian purred. “You’re wet.”

His warm breath against my neck stopped, and I opened my eyes when I felt him move.

“Eyes closed. And keep your hands where I left them.”

It was easier said than done. Every time he touched my breasts, my sides, my stomach…all I wanted to do was to touch him back. God, how badly I wanted to feel him. To claw at his skin. His hair. To hold his cock. Suck him. Taste him.

Let me taste you. Let me suck you off.

I opened my mouth to speak, but whatever words were on my tongue stayed there. There was nothing I could say to change his mind. To make him go faster, harder. I lifted my hips away from the bed, brushing my clit against the palm of his hand as he slid a finger inside. I moaned and immediately sucked at my lips.

Either because of my quick correction or the fire on my cheeks, Brian didn’t yell at me. He didn’t punish me. Instead, he went faster. One finger soon became two, thrusting in and out in long, fluid strokes. I rocked my hips back, drawing him in as deep as his fingers could go. Someone cursed then moaned. I hoped it wasn’t me.

Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.

“Fuck it.” Brian’s words were slurred. “I have to taste you. Now.”

Just his words alone caused me to whimper like an excited puppy. And when he used that voice—that sexy voice—trying to keep quiet was impossible. The backs of my shoulders ached from holding my arms above my head, but I didn’t care. Not when he was like this. Not when I knew him pleasing me was going to push him over the edge as well.

Pressing a knee between mine, Brian urged me to spread my legs. I did so without question. Without hesitation.

Hurry. Please. Go faster.

He wrapped his arms under my hips and held me still—not so much that it was painful but just enough to make sure I knew my place. We were going at his pace, not mine.

My body shuddered, and I nearly flew up off the bed when the tip of his tongue pressed against my clit. He moaned, the vibrations of it teasing me even more. When I thought I was about to lose my mind, he moved his tongue. Just like he did with his fingers, his tongue circled around my clit, never really touching it except for that one time.

And each time I felt myself closing in on an orgasm, he’d back off and let me catch my breath. I didn’t need to look to know he was smiling. Every stroke—every painful circle—kept me right on the edge. Never tapering off, never going over—just there. Right on the fucking edge.

A second shiver ripped up my spine, and I almost lost it when two fingers slipped inside me. At this rate, I wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer. Not my hands, my moans…and certainly not my orgasm.

My breath came out in short pants, caught then started up again. Brian circled my clit with his tongue and hooked his fingers as he did a ‘come hither’ motion inside my pussy. He knew exactly how fast to go and when to slow down to keep me from climaxing. It was amazing and infuriating all at once.

He could keep me on that edge forever, and I wouldn’t be able to do a damned thing about it. I thrust up at him, struggling for breath as my vision threatened to turn white. Stars sparked at the corner of my vision. I was too close.

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