Savage Hearts (15 page)

“It would be irresponsible of me! You need me as a lawyer, right now, Soren, not—”

Soren gently kicked her legs apart and pressed his body against hers, the full length of him, his mouth only inches from hers. She could barely breathe. She could barely think. Every nerve screamed for more.

“And you need to not have any more excuses to get inside your own head,” he said softly. “Don’t let it go, Cate. Don’t let this chance go. I don’t give a shit about the case, not with you in front of me.”

“We have to do this briefing,” she panted.

He grinned.

“You submit,” he said, “and then I answer questions. That’s how it works. My rules, my way.”

“Jesus.”

“You remember my one rule?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“It means you don’t get to hide.”

Cate felt light-headed. He was too close, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

“How,” she said. “How can you be so…open?”

“What’s so difficult about it?”

“How can you be sure you won’t be hurt?”

“I’m not.”

She felt winded, like she’d just run a 10k, her body straining against him. Craving. She looked up again, into his eyes, pissed off now that sletf now the was being held in this aching limbo. Couldn’t he just take her? Why did he need to get inside her head, too?

“How can you even be so sure you want me? Really want me, who I am? Not just a fuck,” she said, spitting the word out. “You said there’s something you need to bring out of me. How do you know?”

Those words, those words she’d said so quickly, almost angrily: they were the most honest she’d been with anyone in her entire life.

Soren breathed in deeply, his massive chest expanding against her, and his hand came awake on her hip. She felt a quiet tug and then the sound of a zipper slowly, slowly coming undone.

“I don’t know how I know, Cate,” he whispered. “But I fucking
know
. I know the way you shake when I touch you. I know the way I feel when I’m with you. I know that you get what I say without my needing to explain myself, and I know that I see more in you than you see yourself. I know that I see the signs that someone’s spent a lot of time hurting you. I know I can show you how wrong he was. And I know I want you more than I want my next fucking breath.”

Cate had no words.

None.

She gasped. Cut it short because she thought she might make a sound, some primal, revealing sound.

“Is that a yes?” He smiled. “Or a safeword?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Good,” he said. The zipper clicked slowly on. “From now on, you do as I say. You obey my orders. You let me in. You take the goddamn leap, Cate. You owe me nothing. No strings, no entanglements. You’re free to do whatever you want, but if you sleep with anyone else, you disclose it.”

“And you do the same?”

She hated how small her voice sounded. She hated even more that she asked the question. Soren smiled slightly.

“Of course.”

She should feel relieved. She did—she felt relieved. If he’d said anything else she would have felt trapped, panicked, sure the whole thing would end up like it had with Jason, even though she knew Soren was a different man.

But she also felt like she’d lost something.

“Of course, I’m not going to have much time for that,” Soren said into her neck. “I could die an old man before I’ve done all the things I want to do to you.”

Cate shivered. There. There it was. It was the way he
wanted
her. She’d never felt anything like that, never allowed
herself
to expect anything like that. After Jason, after the things he would say about her, to her…

She wasn’t sure she knew how tpane knew o be wanted. But Soren
wanted
her.

And Soren was taking off her skirt.

“Step out of it,” he said.

This time, she didn’t hesitate.

“Keep the heels on,” he said. He was smiling. He was looking down at her, in her black lace panties and her black and white heels and her bare legs, and he was smiling. “Damn.”

Suddenly he thrust his hand between her legs, gripping her there, driving his fingers into her folds through the fabric. She had soaked through her underwear sometime around the time he’d pinned her to the wall, and she heard him grunt when he felt it.

“What are you doing?” she choked out.

“Take it all off,” he said. “All of it.”

He let her hands go for the first time since they’d entered the room and Cate felt weirdly adrift. She
liked
being pinned by him. Being held down. She missed it.

“Oh God,” she whispered.

“
Strip
,” he said.

The voice.

Soren took a step back, as though to get a better view, and Cate felt an unfamiliar pang of self-consciousness. Her self-esteem had been so thoroughly wrecked by Jason that she’d lost the ability to envision herself as sexy, as desirable. “Strip” was one of those words that turned her on like crazy, but that she didn’t quite know how to apply to herself.

It was ridiculous. It was…it was definitely ridiculous. She was standing in front of this man who’d had supermodels in her underwear,
Louboutins
, and a barely-there top, and she was doing it because he obviously, obviously wanted her, and she was unsure of herself?

Goddammit.

“Cate,” he warned.

Cate looked at him. She took a deep breath. She counted to three. And then she looked down.

Oh my, was he hard. Those jeans didn’t hide anything. He was hard, and he was huge, and holy shit.

“Yes, sir,” she said. And she let her top drop off one shoulder, then the other.

Soren’s eyes glinted in the low light.

“Keep going,” he said.

Shaking, Cate felt behind her for her bra clasp, thankful that for once she didn’t struggle with it. Another few seconds and it
was
off. She was naked.

She was one-hundred-percent nersed-percaked.

“Christ,” Soren said.

Cate almost moved to cover up, just out of instinct, but Soren caught her hands. She forced herself to look at his face, and what she saw there took her breath away. Again.

He looked hungry. Starving. His eyes roamed up and down her body, drinking her in, appraising,
appreciating
.

“Come here,” he said softly and pulled her out from the wall, into the center of the room.
Into the light.
“Stay.”

Every moment like this, naked and on display, every moment with his eyes on her, pushed Cate further. She didn’t know toward what, exactly; that was what made it so frightening. The unknown. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, and she was sure she was close to hyperventilating, and she felt overheated, even in this cool room, and hypersensitive, like every sensation she had was on high alert, every nerve ending reaching out, demanding to be touched.

Her whole body craved it. And every moment she didn’t get it drove her even further.

“Soren,” she said. It came out a strangled sound.

“I like to see what’s mine,” he said from behind her, his lips close to her ear. “Goddamn I am a lucky man.”

“Soren, what are we doing?” she said, her words hurried. Needy. “Please, just…”

“You are doing what I tell you,” he said. “And I am doing what I want. And what you need.”

Cate closed her eyes. Right. This was the deal. She could do this. She wanted this. She wanted to learn how to balance on this tightrope, wanted to learn how to stop being afraid of falling. Of being exposed.

“Open your eyes,” he said, and put his hands on her hips. She jerked her eyes open, the sudden stimulation of his touch lancing through her, and took in the room as he turned her around.

“Do you recognize any of this?” he asked.

She did. Wide-eyed and staring, she did. It was a room full of equipment.
Comfortable, padded, and stylish, but still equipment.
She only recognized some of it, and only from online sites and stories. There was what looked like a spanking bench, and some sort of table with restraints on it, and what definitely looked like a fucking machine, and at the back there was a St. Andrew’s
Cross
. Plus
all of the stuff hanging from the ceiling
.

And a swing.

“Holy crap,” she said. “Soren, I can’t…I mean, not all of this…”

“
Shh
,” he said. “Just want to see what you react to.”

“All of it,” she stuttered. “How can I not react to all of it?”

He laughed.

Then he smacked her on the ass.

“Forward march,” he said.

Startled, she jolted forward, confused because he hadn’t told her exactly what to do. Which in and of itself was new and confusing: in this brand new sort of situation, she relied on him. Totally. And now he wanted her to…?

She didn’t know.

But she moved forward.

And found
herself
drawn to certain…elements.

She ran her hand over the material of the spanking bench, and found herself shivering at the cool, textured leather. She stared at the fucking machine for several long moments, seriously wondering what, and how, and for how long, and why. She looked down to find herself fondling a riding crop while staring at the St. Andrew’s
Cross
. And she had to stop herself from strapping herself into a set of leather cuffs, just to see what it would feel like.

It was a little bit like being in the secret adult garden for the first time. She wanted to laugh.

“Have you ever told anyone what you want?” Soren asked.

The sound of his voice was so close. She suppressed a shudder, and smiled as she fingered the cuffs some more.

“Almost. Once. Kind of.”

“Who?”

Cate stiffened. The answer was Jason. Back when she’d been naive enough, or stupid enough, or simply in enough denial to believe that there problems were mutual. That it was a relationship issue, that it was something that could be worked on, that “communication” would help. She’d gone against every instinct she had and forced
herself
to tell him that she wanted to be tied down, because she thought it would help her marriage. Jason’s reaction had been weird—almost like
he was intimidated by it, and that made him angry
.

He’d have just used it against her the next time he wanted to make her feel like shit. Thank God they hadn’t actually done it. Thank
God
.

“That’s not a great memory for me,” Cate said.

“No shit,” Soren said, and then his arms were around her. From behind, he wrapped his arms around her, covering her with his warm body, his hard strength,
his
wild scent. Cate sighed and sank into him, leaning her head back against his shoulder, letting him hold her.

God, that
felt good.