Savage Rhythm (20 page)

“Are you asking if I can go to a non-baby shower baby shower with you?”

He thought about it. “Yes.”

There was something about this man that was just unbelievably sweet. Molly doubted that Lola had only just now extended the invitation. Declan had been thinking about this for a little while, clearly worried about how it might affect her, because babies. And yet this was the guy who’d just ordered her to drop her panties and fucked her senseless against a tour bus.

Molly thought about it. She thought about how much energy she’d spent over the years pushing that particular pain down, and she thought about what Declan had said when she’d asked about his mom—it was in the past, and talking about it couldn’t hurt anymore. She wanted her past to be past, too. Maybe that meant not running from the present.

“A baby shower is a happy thing,” she said. “I’m happy for Lola. And I should be there if she wants me there. I want to be there, with you.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“I’m sure. I just…”

“What?”

“I don’t totally want to talk about it right now?” she said, giving him her most innocent look while grinding her hips into him. That massive erection was pressed into her thigh and she could almost, almost…

“I’d much rather talk about this,” she whispered, her voice dropping. “Or maybe not so much talk…”

Declan laughed out loud, rolling his hips so his dick rubbed against her wetness, making her moan. “What did I tell you about topping from the bottom?”

Oh yes.

“That you’d make my ass red,” she panted.

“I have plans for you this morning,” he said, his voice already husky. “Now you’re going to have to wait a whole lot longer before I fuck you.”

“No,” she said. “Please, Declan.”

But Declan sat up, forcing his legs under hers, and grabbing both of her hands. He shook his head. “You can beg a whole lot better than that, baby.”

And then he reached over the side of the bed and came back with a bag. Molly stared at it. That’s what he’d been doing last night. Collecting…equipment. She licked her lips.

“Put out your wrists,” he said.

His voice had changed. Deeper. Harsher. Just the sound of it…

Molly tried to hide her giddiness and obediently put her wrists out. She was both excited and afraid, and the fear was like at a scary movie, sort of. Safe. Just a hit of adrenaline, the kind you could revel in. A
massive
hit of adrenaline.

What would he do to her?

He cuffed her wrists and then pushed her back down on the bed, stacking the pillows under her bottom. Before she knew it the cuffs were secured to an attachment in the headboard—of course there’d be an attachment in the headboard here—and she was at an angle, her legs spread like she was being served up to him.

She couldn’t help it. She giggled. “Shouldn’t I meet your friends first?”

He answered her with a swat to her right nipple, then her left. The sharp pain lashed out into sharper pleasure, like her nipples were connected directly to her clit, and she gasped. What had that been?

Declan held up a riding crop.

Oh my God, a riding crop
.

“There’s more than one way to make your ass red, Molly,” he said. “I think you need a blindfold.”

She gasped. Of all things, that seemed somehow the most extreme to her, not being able to see what was coming. While restrained. While at his mercy.

Molly felt the wetness begin to spread between her legs, and Declan raised an eyebrow. He looked down, and deftly slipped one finger inside her while she groaned.

“Yeah,” he said, taking the time to lick her off of his finger. “A blindfold. Don’t move.”

It was a struggle to stay still while Declan’s huge body moved above hers, between her legs, while she knew his thick, heavy erection was so close, but somehow she managed. She thought it was practically heroic on her part.

Especially because as soon as she couldn’t see, everything—
everything
—became more intense.

His breath on her breasts.

His weight on her thighs.

His touch, brief and tantalizing, on her stomach.

The feel of leather cuffs, slipping around her ankles. The way he spread her legs even further, anchoring the cuffs to the corners of the bed, making sure she was truly immobile. Imprisoned.

His.

“God, that’s pretty,” he said. “Let’s see you move.”

She felt something teasing at her entrance, something hard, plastic—not him. What was it? She had no idea, and it kept pressing, pressing…

She moaned. She moved her hips, straining against the cuffs.

He chuckled.

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes!” she said. She could already feel herself building up, getting frustrated. It was amazing, nothing short of a miracle, that this was something he could do to her—turn it into a game, whether or not he’d let her come. Just a few weeks ago she’d been unsure if she’d orgasm with a partner ever again, and now she was basically his plaything.

That made her even hotter.

“Please,” she said.

“Nah,” Declan said. “Maybe later. First…”

Molly felt cold metal brush against her nipples and gasped. She had
no
idea what…

Then she felt the teeth closing around her nipples and cried out. In surprise or in pleasure or both, she didn’t know.

“Nipple clamps,” Declan said. “Feel the chain between them, then going down your stomach, between your legs?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“That’s a lead. It’s mine.” One set of cold, metal teeth closed around one nipple, then the other. The bite was just enough to sting continuously, something she couldn’t shut out of her mind.

“I control it,” he said, and pulled on the chain. The nipple clamps pulled tighter and Molly groaned, the fire shooting straight to her center, demanding to be quenched.

“Yes,” she moaned.

“Be good,” he said.

Molly was very, very tempted to be bad. Instead she bit her lip and nodded.

Then: she squealed.

He was pushing something into her ass.

Something very well lubed, but still
something
. She felt more lube, cold and thick and gooey, and Declan’s voice cut through all the sensation with a simple command: “Relax.”

Immediately she did, and pushed down. Whatever it was entered her with the little pop she remembered; it had been so, so long since she’d had…

“It’s very small,” Declan said. “But powerful.”

And he switched it on.

Molly’s body jerked up, not at all ready for the sensation of a vibrating butt plug. She already felt full with the intrusion, a delightfully dirty sensation she loved feeling for Declan, but now that it
moved
…

Her brain, her nerves, her body—none of them knew what to do. She was writhing, groaning, until she felt Declan’s weight on her. Steadying her. Holding her.

“Let it flow through,” he said from somewhere above her, and pulled on the nipple clamps, the fire adding to the vibrations, spiraling up into her until she arched. His lips covered hers in one of those brain-melting, consciousness-destroying kisses, and she was done. Her mind shut off, her body turned on, and the rest of her was somewhere nearby, floating in bliss.

He kissed his way down her neck, between her breasts, to her stomach, her belly button. His hands gripped her thighs and she heard him inhale deeply, and then she felt his hot, hungry mouth between her legs, and she arched again, screaming, crying.

Nothing had ever felt so good.

No one had ever eaten her like this, like he’d die without her, like what she held between her legs gave him life. The vibrations from the plug melded with his strokes and left her dizzy. He drove her right to the edge and then pulled back, leaving her with the vibrations of the plug, and a deep, deep need at her core.

“Beg,” he said, and pulled on the nipple chain.

Molly screamed. “Oh God,
please
, Declan!”

“Please what?” he said, leisurely, not letting up on her nipples, grazing her clit with his finger.

“Please let me come,” she wailed. “Please don’t stop, please.”

He smacked the side of her ass, one finger dipping in and out of her while the plug buzzed madly on. “You can do better than that.”

She shook her head, struggling against the restraints in a blind frenzy, needing to move, needing him
now
. “Fuck me,” she gasped. “Please, Declan, fill me.”

She heard a soft growl and then he pushed two fingers into her while she moaned. Then three. Then four. She felt full, so full, like she couldn’t possibly take any more, Declan filling her completely, fucking her completely.

“Now you can come,” he said, and put his mouth on her. He sucked her clit in his mouth and made her come with so much force that she nearly expelled everything.

Her throat hurt.

Her hamstrings hurt.

Everything, everything ached with the force of that orgasm, and it was still coming. Still overwhelming. Still a force ripping through her, leaving her with no choice but to submit and let it flow.

He held her. Drank her. Dominated her. Loved her.

“Oh God, you,” she remembered moaning, and didn’t want to have to explain it. Was thankful, now, for the blindfold, because she had no idea what was happening to her both inside and out, and she didn’t want him to see, the way he always saw through her.

Which was of course when he took the blindfold off.

“Look at me,” he said gruffly. She had no choice.

Molly remembered thinking she could lose time, looking at him. Into those dark eyes. Right then, she would have given up all the time in the world. She’d never felt so accepted, so cared for, so…

No
.

She pressed her lips together and held them while he looked at her, his cock poised right at her entrance. Silently she shook her head, feeling tears gather at the corners of her eyes, and finally said, “Please.”

Declan held her face, wanting her to see him, to know he felt the same, while he filled her in one long, slow, punishing stroke.

Molly let the tears fall, and came again, and again, and again.

chapter
21

Seeing Molly in his uncle’s house was freaking weird. It was weird, and it was nice, and it felt good, and that made it weirder.

She was totally at home, too. Just shootin’ the shit with Uncle Jim, teasing them both, talking about going fishing on Jim’s boat. What the hell?

Even with their morning play, Declan and Molly had been up and about earlier than anyone else who was staying at Volare for the baby shower party thing. Apparently everyone else had had a late night rather than an early morning, but that was just fine with Declan—he’d rather spend time alone with Molly anyway. The guys in the band were all off doing their thing in the few days they had off before the big Madison Square Garden show, Club Volare was sleeping it off, and he had her all to herself.

And she’d insisted on seeing Uncle Jim, once she found out Declan was planning on visiting anyway. She had about a million reasons that all made sense, and she said it was in the book contract, which he hadn’t read in ages. What was he going to do, say no?

Well, come to think of it, he could. But Declan had some perverse curiosity about what would happen when Molly met Uncle Jim, like worlds colliding. Part of him thought it might change something when Molly finally saw him fully stripped of fame, since Jim did not tolerate any of that bullshit and always liked to let that be known.

And it did change something. It made everything more real.

And now Molly was laughing with Jim, like she was part of it. Part of this home, this life, this history. It was blowing his freaking mind.

“Molly, you here on business or pleasure? What’s the deal, you going to grill my ass?” Jim said, getting another set of beers from the fridge.

“You would love that, huh?” Molly laughed.

“I’ve been getting ready ever since Dec called,” Jim said. “I want to see what everyone’s so afraid of.”

“Then maybe now that we’ve met, you’ll let me call you when Declan’s not here?” she asked. Declan marveled at the expression on her face. Sweet, but lethal.

Jim looked back at Declan. “You know you’re screwed, don’t you?”

“I’ve been told,” Declan said, finally pulling back a chair. “How do you know about all this stuff with Molly and the book?”

“C’mon, how do you think?” Jim scoffed. “Brian.”

“That fucking gossip.”

“And don’t ever let him change. Besides, I think I could take you, young lady. No offense.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she said casually. And smiled.

But Molly was toying with the label on her beer bottle, tearing it off piece by piece and collecting the casualties in a neat little pile. And she kept looking sideways at Jim. For some reason, Declan went on high alert. She was planning something…

“Hey Jim,” she asked, sipping on that beer. “Who has the second toothbrush?”

Uncle Jim actually sputtered. Declan did a double take, but was the first to recover.

“Jim, are you getting laid? Are you fucking serious?”

Jim coughed some more beer, and Molly narrowed her eyes. She didn’t know Jim well enough to appreciate what a freaking happy miracle this was—there weren’t many gay men this far out on the island, and even fewer in Jim’s age range, though maybe at some point, that didn’t matter anymore.

“Yeah, I’m getting laid,” Jim said, glaring at Molly. “Truce?”

“Truce,” she agreed.

“Jim, come on. Fucking spill.”

“It’s not serious,” Jim said, getting up to clear the empties. Declan got a weird vibe—was his uncle avoiding his gaze? That would be a first. “He’s a state trooper. Lives kind of a long ways away, so, you know.”

“Toothbrush,” Declan said.

Jim just grunted.

Something wasn’t right there. Declan looked at Molly—she seemed to get it, too. Which was weird all over again. Had he really only met her a few weeks ago? This woman who was the best he’d ever had, sitting at his uncle’s table, drinking beer like she knew she belonged.