Spoken For (8 page)

My back arches off the bed.

He looks into my eyes. “I’m going to fuck you hard until you scream. Are you ready for that?”

I can’t keep my hands off him a moment longer. My arms go around him, my nails scraping down his back, digging into his buttocks.

He shifts, the tip of his cock nudging my entrances.

I arch again, trying to wedge him inside.

“Impatient?” He grins down on me. “Wrap your legs around me. Butt off the bed. I want you riding up my cock. You’ve never felt that, hot seed spurting deep into you.”

I wrap my legs around his waist. He grasps my butt cheeks and his tip presses deeper, another inch, and another… I gasp as I feel myself stretching around his thickness. I’m wet and slick, but I don’t think I can take him.

“Relax your muscles.” His grin is gone. He talks softly, coaxing me, but there’s an edge to his voice as he fights to maintain control. “Damn, baby, your pussy is snug. Relax, let me in…”

His gaze pierces me with fire and steel as he kneads my backside, slowly rocking against me, pulling a little out to ease me before he pushes even deeper. Again and again, and then he surges with a single, powerful thrust to seat himself fully and I bite down on a scream with the surprise and intensity. He fills me, stretches me. My inner walls tremble with the vibrations of a peaking orgasm as his cock throbs sensations throughout my body.

He thrusts deep and long, riding me higher and higher, his hands clasping beneath my backside, controlling the rocking motion. His balls slap against me as his cock drives deep into me again and again, rough, hard, until I’m panting and cresting, trying to muffle my screams with each peak, my mind about to explode.

“You’re so tight,” he grunts, his jaw strained. “I can’t…”

His seed spurts onto my G-spot and then I scream his name as I truly peak and shatter around him as he brings me down with slow, masterful thrusts.

When he pulls out, he rolls onto the bed beside me and folds me against his chest, holding me close to his racing heart as the aftermath of my climax shudders through my boneless body.

The tenderness is so unexpected, so exquisite, tears push to my eyes.

“I wanted to go slower.” His ragged breath brushes my forehead as he presses a kiss there. “Are you okay?” He strokes my arm, a gentle caress as he speaks. “Did I hurt you?”

I close my eyes on a smile as I consider it. I’m sore, stretched, thoroughly used, but it all feels so good. “No, you didn’t hurt me.”

“Good.” His finger trails off my arm and over the curve of my hip. “There’s so, so much more I want to do to you.”

I lift me head to widen my eyes on him.

“Not right now,” he chuckles. “You need a couple of hours to recover.”

“My flight leaves at four,” I remind him.

“My expert team arrives in the morning and I intend to stick around here until they’re done.” His palm smooths over my backside, massaging as his stone-baked eyes absorb me. “Stay with me, Keegan. It’s just a day or two.”

“Tomorrow’s Friday.” I suck in my lower lip. My body thrills at what more he could possibly do to me, but it’s not that simple.
Am I ready for this? More? Staying here, maybe in his bed?
“I have to work.”

“I’m the boss, Keegan.” He taps my backside with a playful slap.

Oh, God.

My heads falls again, my cheek pressed to the hollow of his shoulder. I don’t know if I’m ready, but apparently I’m staying.

I don’t know how the hell to say no to this man.

17

THE LOOK LIAM gives me when I tell him the new plan is so grave, I wonder if I’ve lost my mind even considering it.

“You’re sure about this, Kee?”

“Of course I’m not sure,” I groan. “But I won’t know until I do it.”

We’re not talking about the sex. Well, I haven’t actually said a word about the sex, but it’s implied, I suppose, when I told Liam I’m staying to spend some time with Roman.

I stretch out on his bed, cuddling the pillow. I don’t know if this is against Roman’s rules, but I think I’m okay.

The door’s wide open and anyway, Liam’s packing and not on
or in
the bed with me. I understand the part about Roman not wanting me sleeping in another man’s bed. I wouldn’t tolerate that either, him wrapped beneath the covers with another woman.

Liam zips his carryall and stands there, his brow furrowing as he looks at me. “I crashed his car and I feel a total shit about that, but that doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about the man when it comes to you, Kee. And I won’t be here if you need me.”

This is where I should probably tell him I’m a big girl. I can look after myself and I don’t need him to always be there, picking up the pieces.

But that’s not the truth.

“I’ll be home by Sunday at the latest,” I say instead. “And you’re just a phone call away, right?”

“Right.” His mouth twists around the further warnings he wants to give, but won’t. “Fuck, just call if anything happens, okay”

By
anything
, he means if I fall apart. He means if I wake up in the dark hours of the early morning and can’t breathe. He means if I find myself stranded in the highlands with a desperate need to run and run until there’s just me and me alone.

“I will,” I say softly.

18

ROMAN MAKES NO bones about the fact that I belong to him. There’s no display of public affection. That’s not his style. But when he looks at me, those stone-baked eyes claim me. When we walk, his hand rests possessively on the small of my back.

Connor notices. To his credit, he says nothing, but his eyes sparkle with affection when Roman turns down his offer to ride in with us to drop Liam off at the airport.

“I’ll take Keegan out for dinner,” he tells Connor. “Don’t wait up for us.”

Bold has made himself scarce.

“He’s in Dingwall,” Roman says when I ask. Then he bows his head to speak quietly at my ear. “He’s staying over with the rest of the team. We have the guest wing to ourselves tonight.”

My knees turn butter soft.

A few hours ago, I was tender and mindlessly sated. Now my body trembles with the promise of what’s to come later whenever his gaze or hand touches me.

The winter days are short and it’s nearly dark by the time we say goodbye to Liam and drive from the airport into town. We dine early at an adorable little bistro. Seated in an intimate corner with candlelight flickering between us, my body relaxes and releases the sexual tension as we share a bottle of red wine with our steaks.

Roman is utterly charming.

His grin comes easy and often, shaving the harsher edges from his face as he coaxes me into talking about myself. He wants to know everything, from the tiny village I grew up in, to how I got interested in web design.

I surprise myself by telling him about Kyle and Lucy, about the accident and why I needed to come to London for a fresh start. I don’t go into the details of the accident, just that I lost my boyfriend and best friend.

“I’m so sorry, Keegan,” he says softly, taking my hand in his as he shakes his head. “That must have been devastating.”

It still is. And not something I usually talk about.

I don’t know if it’s Roman, or maybe just the intensity of this morning that’s shattered my boundaries. I haven’t done this, spent time with a man after sex, not since Kyle… I push him gently from my mind before comparisons can form between the soft-natured boy and the primal alpha male seated across the table from me now.

When the waitress comes to ask if we’re ready for the check, Roman orders a coffee for me and stands. “Wait here for me. I shouldn’t be longer than a half hour.”

I frown up at him. “Where are you going?”

He leans in, tipping my chin up to him as his eyes sink into me. “I need to make some special purchases. I’d bring you with me, but the shop’s not in the best part of town. I don’t want you walking around there.”

“Oh…” I suck in a deep breath as the wire of tension in my lower abdomen pulls taut. I’m not particularly knowledgeable about shops in shady parts of town, but I can imagine the general variety of those special purchases.

His thumb brushes over my chin, then falls away. “I won’t be long.”

He isn’t.

I’ve only just finished my coffee when he returns.

He places the discrete black bag on the table between us and orders another round of coffee before he sits, the sensual charm of earlier slipping into a brooding mood.

Bastard.

My heart thuds in the back of my throat and I can’t keep my gaze from straying to that bag. It’s big enough to contain anything.

Roman settles back in his chair, hunger and want shadowing the hollows of his jaw as he studies me. “Your eyes are so expressive, baby. You’re a little scared, and so damned turned on.”

“I’m new to this, Roman.” I twist my fingers in my lap. “I haven’t…”

“I know,” he says gently. “Do you trust me, Keegan?”

That’s the thing.

I do trust him.

I feel completely safe, cared for, and thoroughly uncomfortable at the contents of that bag. That’s part of the thrill, the addiction my body craves when it comes to this man’s touch, his dark promises and wicked intentions. I don’t know how anything can be more intense, more intoxicating, than this morning.

But I do know I’m about to find out.

19

ROMAN IS SITTING on my bed when I step out of the bathroom. He’s showered, his damp hair smoothed away from his face to emphasize the darkly rugged beauty. He’s wearing jeans, but no shirt to cover that broad, rippled chest.

A fresh wave of desire hollows my knees.

“Drop the towel,” he orders in a husky voice. “Stay there.”

I’m still by the bathroom door and I do as he says. After this morning, I thought I’d be slightly more accustomed to my nakedness. But my skin heats with shyness as his eyes trawl over me. My nipples tingle and harden beneath his study and a part of me hates this, that my arousal is so blatant when he can sit there, perfectly in control.

Hates it.

And loves it.

“Have you ever been spanked?” he asks silkily.

Panic claws at my stomach. “As in punished?”

“No, Keegan, I never punish women.” He shifts, pressing his hands to the covers. “This is about your pleasure as much as mine.”

Resting right next to one of his hands is a black, leather paddle. It’s about ten inches wide with a long handle.

Oh, God.

Moisture pools into the folds of my seam as I think of the stinging slap he once delivered to my backside.

“Only if you want this,” he says. “I intend to set your bum cheeks on fire. When you come, you won’t know if it’s from pleasure or pain. It’s an erotic high, Keegan, that will take you further, higher, darker than anything you’ve ever experienced. I want to give that to you. I want your bums to burn for me while your pussy clenches and I watch you soar.”

His voice has descended into a raw, husky rumble that shivers over my skin. I don’t know about the pain, but I want the high, I want him to give it to me. I want to burn for him while he watches.

“O-Okay,” I stammer and start toward him.

“No, stay right there,” he commands sternly.

My feet freeze, my eyes on him. Trusting, but a little scared. My clit swells, wet and pulsing.

“You need to be absolutely sure,” he says. “Once we begin, I’ll stop if I feel you’re not becoming aroused. But it you are and you still want me to stop, I will, but I won’t be happy about it, Keegan. I don’t want to spoil other encounters for you by leaving you with the reminder of the pain without pleasure.”

I drag my lower lip through my teeth as my eyes flitter from him to the paddle.
Am I absolutely sure?
“If I say no?”

“Then I’ll throw you on the bed and fuck your brains out,” he says, chuckling.

My eyes shoot to him. How the hell can he chuckle at a moment like this?

His chuckle eases into a grin. “I don’t need this to have a good time, Keegan. I think I proved that this morning.”

That grin carves lust, want, need into my bones.

“Okay, yes,” I say, my mouth so dry, I can barely speak. “I’m sure.”

“What are you sure about, Keegan?” He pushes to his feet and crosses to the chest of drawers. “What do you want me to do?”

I watch, groaning internally as he digs into the black shopping bag on top the chest. When his hand comes out, there’s a string of pearls twined around his fingers.

He turns to me, pauses, his brow arching.

He’s going to make me say it.

“I’m sure, Roman,” I mumble. “I want you to spank me.”

“Beautiful.” He inclines his head as he walks up to me, holding out the string of pearls. “Put this on.”

Only once I hold the pearls, do I realise it’s a G-String. I drop my eyes from his searing gaze as I step daintily into the exotic underwear. The string portion is two strands that can be parted if he wants to thrust inside me without taking them off. The triangle in front is thin and elongated, only an inch wide. The pearls there are fractionally larger, each one dangling on its own slightly loose thread.

When I’m done, he stands back, his eyes on my pearl-covered thatch. I’ve never shaved, but I don’t have much hair there either. It’s blonde and thin and has never covered much.

“The front strip fits
inside
your folds.” He runs a hand through his hair and keeps it there, exposing the pale scar that slits his eyebrow. I’ve barely noticed it before, but now it’s emphasized with the vein that ticks right above it. “I’m waiting, Keegan.”

The authority in his voice spirals a hot shiver through me.

My skin blushes all over as I fiddle with myself to adjust the pearls inside my damp, thick folds.

“Perfect.” He turns his back on me and moves to sit on the bed again. His fingers stroke the paddle, but he doesn’t lift it. “Come here, Keegan.”

“Slowly,” he orders as I walk to him. “Feel every step.”

The pearls glide over my seam and roll deliciously into the nub of my clit. Even the strands sliding up my crack send an erotic sensation through me. My juices seep from me and dribble down the upper skin of my inner thighs in a sticky mess.

I am so turned on, but my eyes are also wide and my stomach cramps as I get closer and closer to Roman and that paddle. I’ve never been spanked before, not even as a child. I wouldn’t even know what my pain threshold is, although I suspect it isn’t high.

Roman’s brows crease as he looks into my eyes. Then he leaves the paddle on the bed and holds both his hands out to me. “Come here, baby.”

I take his hands and he pulls me onto his lap. His thighs are pressed together and I’m straddling him, my pussy stretched wide. My hands go to his shoulders to steady myself.

His arms circle my waist, his palms flattening over my back, pressing me closer as his mouth crushes my lips in a deep, penetrating kiss. His tongue tastes, dances and strokes while his hands caress my spine, my hips, my backside.

I’m breathless when his lips trail down my throat with butterfly kisses. He dips his tongue into the hollow at the base of my throat, eliciting a groan. I arch back as pleasure rolls down my spine and his kisses roam lower until he’s sucking my breast, lapping my nipple into a hard pebble with his wicked tongue.

I’m molten by the time his mouth drifts off my skin so he can look at me. “It’s okay to feel apprehensive, baby, that’s part of the excitement.” His hands are on my hips as he speaks, his thumbs feathering light circles.  “But I don’t want you scared.”

I bring my hands from his shoulders to push my fingers through his hair as I lower my lips to him for another lingering kiss.

“I’m not scared,” I breathe out on his mouth.

I’m not the least bit scared anymore.

I’m just a hell of a lot apprehensive as he guides me from his lap to my feet.

His eyes are on the junction of my thighs. I feel the heat of his gaze like a touch, and then he is touching me there to adjust my G-String and I close my eyes on a groan as he fiddles to ensure the pearls are nicely in place.

Yes! Yes they are!

“Over my lap, Keegan.” The stern authority is back in his voice, rippling through me, but his hand is tender on the curve of my spine as he helps me settle in.

His knees part wide enough so that my breasts squash onto one thigh while my clit rubs the other. His hand slides over the bump of my backside, massaging my lower cheeks, and I feel his eyes there, too, examining every little detail of my tensed butt.

I feel so utterly vulnerable, and wanton, more so when that hand moves back to the curve of my spine and presses firmly to hold me in place.

“Ready, baby?”

“Yes,” I gasp.

My butt clenches and my stomach cramps.

I can’t help it.

I close my eyes and hold my breath, waiting…

Oh, God.

When the first smack lands, the loud whack sounds much more fierce than the actual sting. The round paddle is wide, catching both my butt cheeks and the second whack tingles heats over my skin. The next one spreads that heat into a sensual burn that pushes out my held breath on a moan.

I suck that breath back in and hold as I wait for the next blow.

It doesn’t come.

His fingers delve between my legs from behind, sliding with the pearls along my sleek, thoroughly moistened crotch.

“Are we done?” I heave, oddly disappointed as much as I’m relieved.

That wasn’t so bad.

My backside relaxes and I concentrate on enjoying the heightened sensation as he pushes between the pearl strands to slide two fingers deep inside me. My inners walls clench, but he’s sliding out again.

I wriggle on his lap, wanting those fingers back, begging for it. “Roman…”

“I’m not done with your bums, baby,” he growls. “I haven’t even started. That was just the warm up.”

Oh.

Oh, my.

His fingers dip into me again. Out. “You’re soaking wet, baby. You’re so responsive. I hardly have to touch you.”

He pulls his hand away from between my legs.

My butt tenses and I’m such a hot mess of nerves, he’s right. If he talks dirty to me right now, I’ll come.

The paddle lands with a solid whack that explodes heat over both my butt cheeks. Again and again, hard smacks that spread the burn and rock me forward each time. My sensitive nipples graze the rough texture of his jeans and my clit rubs into his thigh. The pearls roll in my folds, whirling my swollen nub.

A cry gasps from me on the next blow and I squirm, but his hand on my back keeps me from arching up.

Whack. Whack.
The pain intensifies with each smack he delivers. My clit throbs and clenches, greedily grabbing at the pearls. My backside is on fire and he doesn’t stop.
Whack. Whack.
My muscles tremble and tears stream from my eyes. I shove a fist into my mouth and scream around it. I want to struggle free, to yell at him.
Enough. My butt is blistered.
But he warned me about this. He asked me twice if I was sure.

My bum cheeks are so raw, he could probably blow on them and I’d scream.

He doesn’t blow.

Each hard smack drives my pussy into the pearls and grinds my nipples into his jeans. The burn is all over, deep inside my veins, scorching throughout my body. I keep my fist in my mouth, sobbing and screaming, groaning, nearly delirious as that burn crests into an orgasm that takes over my entire being.

The paddle rains down whacks as my body stiffens into the small, black death and sees me all the way to the other side before Roman tosses it aside and scoops my quivering bones into his arms. He cuddles me on his lap while I hiccup sobs into his chest, my heart thudding violently at the overwhelming intensity of what just happened.

I’ve never felt anything like that.

I’ve never reached quite that high.

I don’t know how long he holds me on his lap, stroking my skin, whispering against my hair, but finally I come down from the intensity of that climax. And that’s when I begin to feel the aftermath of that paddle on my blistered cheeks.

I squirm and he stands, lifting me onto the bed.

“On your hands and knees,” he commands. “I want to look at those glowing bums as I fuck you.”

I’m shattered.

There’s no way I can get aroused again.

But I scramble eagerly onto my hands and knees and offer him by stinging backside. I want to give him as much pleasure as he’s just given me.

I hear him unzip his jeans and then a moment later I feel him against me. His fingers part the pearl threads at my entrance and his cock pushes inside, inch by agonizing inch, stretching me taut with his length and thickness. It doesn’t matter how wet I am, I don’t think I’ll ever take him without being coaxed inch-by-inch and stretched.

A palm flattens on each of my butt cheeks, grips as he drives in deeper and deeper. No doubt leaving white imprints on my reddened skin.

My bums are still sore, but it’s not unbearable and there’s something incredibly sensual in the fact that he’s looking at them and grabbing onto my hot, reddened skin while he takes his pleasure.

Finally, he’s seated fully inside me, and then he’s pumping me, hard, long, his groin and hips slapping my burning lower cheeks with the force of his thrusts.

A guttural grunt tears from his throat as he slams into me one last time, his cock rigid for a timeless moment before his release shoots deep inside me.

We fall on the bed and he pulls me over him, our legs entwined, our chests beating erratically together.

“God, Keegan, that was intense,” he groans. “Was it too much, baby?”

I roll my head back to look at him, pressing a finger to his lips. “It was amazing, Roman. For a while there, I thought I’d actually died. It wasn’t too much. Never.”

His arms comes around me, his hand smoothing over my backside, massaging. “You’re amazing, baby.”

We lie like that until our breathing evens out and my bones regrow some mettle.

When Roman pushes onto an elbow, he drops a kiss to my lips and says, “I’m going to take a quick shower. Would you like me to run you a bath?”

“In a bit,” I say, smiling at him. “I can’t move a muscle right now.”