Surrender to Me (33 page)

“Hunter . . .” She moaned his name, a question, a plea.

Nothing could get to him faster than hearing her cry his name. He wanted to hear it every day for the rest of his life. Wanted to connect with her, form something so never ending that she’d never think of leaving him again.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “Kata, ah . . .” He slid back inside, all the way, and tossed his head back on a groan. “Fuck. You’re amazing.”

She sucked in a thin breath. “
Ahh.
I shouldn’t like the way you force all this sensation on me.”

Bullshit.
“It feels good when I’m deep inside you, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” she whimpered.

Determined to keep her on edge, he withdrew almost completely, then fell into her again. It was like diving into honey, so slow and sweet, her clinging passage all around him. He thought he’d go insane.

Finally, he nudged her cervix. She clawed the padded table again and bowed her head, unconsciously submissive. The sight nearly undid him. She might not want to acknowledge her nature, but he felt it, tasted and smelled it. That very nature colored so many of her responses. She would never be truly happy with anyone who couldn’t give her the dominance she craved. And Hunter intended to make her very, very happy.

Jesus, she was wet and so close. The warning pulses of her pussy gripped him, trying to shove him over the edge. He gritted his teeth, his lungs about to burst, his skin on fire—but he managed to slow down, hold back.

“I shouldn’t give in to you the way I do,” she gasped.

More bullshit.
“I love to please you, honey.”

He punctuated the statement by leaning over the damp flesh of her back, settling his palm over her clit, then grinding into her.

Kata tossed back her head and cried out. “Hunter!”

“You want to come now?”

“Yes. Yes!”

“You’ll talk to me before making any decisions about us?”

“I will,” she sobbed. “Please . . .”

Satisfaction burned through him like an inferno at her words. All the leashed power he’d been holding back, Hunter let loose. He surged into her, throwing his body into each thrust. Kata mewled, gripped the edge of the ottoman with her nails. Her pussy clenched tight on him.

She wailed with pleasure, the skeins of her dark hair covering her shoulders in a silky brush of sable. God, everything about her was sexy. He thrust again, giving her even more, settling into a rhythm that was both blistering and merciless. Around him, she tensed, drawing in one shuddering breath after another, exhaling with a cry.

Sweat spread across his back, over his scalp, rolled down his temples. And still he kept at her, determined to give her both total devotion and absolute pleasure. He wanted this night to be like nothing she’d ever experienced—or would ever forget. Because in another three days, he’d be shipping out. He had to be certain she had no interest pursuing that divorce in his absence. Losing her would kill him.

He molded his body more tightly to hers, luxuriating in the feel of her under his hands as he thrust deep, hard, fast. He spread kisses along her shoulder, shoving her hair out of the way so he could slide his lips up her neck, breathe in her skin. Musky, tinged with female perspiration and arousal, and ripe with something that would forever remind him of Kata. The smell and feel of her drove him toward the edge.

“Hunter!” She clamped down on his cock now, dangerously close. In response, pleasure rolled down his spine, flash-heated his blood. His balls drew up tight. Damn it, he was going to be a heartbeat behind her.

He pressed his palm into her clit again. “Now! Come, honey.”

She did, screaming out her release. She squeezed him so tightly, he couldn’t move for a long moment.
Damn!
Her walls closed in on him, pressing, stroking. Had he ever felt anything more mind-blowing? Pleasure was like a fresh razor blade up his spine—sharp and cutting through him with so little effort. He bit gently into her shoulder and let loose, spilling all he had—seed, need, and soul—inside her.

Kata was everything to him. The submissive he’d always sought, the gutsy, smart wife who’d always challenge him. Somehow, with the few days they had left, he had to stop her would-be killer, ensure Ben stayed away, and convince Kata that she felt the same way for him.

KATA struggled to find her breath. Hunter’s legs were tangled in hers, his arms banded around her middle. His mouth hovered over her neck as he breathed heavily against her skin. God, he was everywhere, made her feel everything.

She trembled. The floodgates of her fear and exhaustion poured over the reality of her submission, threatening to drown her. She bucked under Hunter, doing her best to dislodge him. But strapped to his table and held captive by his heavily muscled body, Kata couldn’t move.

The rising tide rolled up and over her head. She swallowed hard, trying to force the feeling down, but the giant sob tore at her chest, even bigger than the release following her spanking. She choked as it came up. Tears burst out, and her arms and legs gave way.

In the back of her head, she knew that he wanted her to feel free to show him all her emotions. He’d shown her his. She’d never forget the haunted, angry look on his face when he talked about his mother, about the fact that his father had simply let the divorce happen. Their split was a scar on his heart, festering.

The way he’d commanded her entire body just now proved that he didn’t intend to allow his own wife to leave. His ruthless domination of her body was his way of fighting back. He’d do anything necessary to make her stay. He’d consume her in the process. And she feared that she’d eventually just let him.

A shudder rolled over Kata. Damn it, she’d already given him far more than she’d ever given any man, more than she’d ever thought she had to give. But he would never rest until he owned her through and through, all the way down to her soul.

She must put some distance between them. Every time Hunter touched her, he stripped her a bit more. After every encounter, she didn’t think he could leave her any more exposed or feeling any more raw. And she was always wrong.

What would another three days with Hunter do to her psyche? Or a lifetime with him? How long before she became his doormat? He pushed, and shoved, and demanded. Then, when she was defenseless, he brought in the steely tenderness, digging his way into her soul. Where Hunter was concerned, she was so weak, some part of her ridiculously eager to submit. Already he was so firmly entrenched, it scared her to death. Kata feared that she’d never be able to get him out of her heart.

She tried to crawl into a ball—but couldn’t while strapped to the table. More sobs wracked her chest, overpowering, unstoppable, painful. Hunter watched her with all-seeing eyes, petting her with a soothing touch. She couldn’t give all of herself like this to him day after day, year after year, for a lifetime. He didn’t understand what it meant to feel as if he’d been broken down again and again. He’d never know how this submission made her question her sense of self... and whether she’d have anything left if she kept giving to him like this.

But after giving her the most stunning sex of her life, she had no way to hide.

“Kata, honey,” he whispered in her ear.

She curled up tighter and shook her head.

“Was it too powerful?”

For her, yes. Always.

“Don’t,” she managed to gasp out through another sob. “Just stop.”

“Shh.” He trailed a soothing hand down her back, then back up, up, until he reached the cuff at the corner of the padded table. With a quick click, one unfastened. He repeated the same movement with the other. Then her wrists were free. With Hunter still buried deep inside her, he drew her back onto his lap, rubbing her forearms and wrists, caring for her gently. Kata refused to look over her shoulder at him, but she could feel his gaze delving past the curtain of her hair. No escaping the feel of his cock stiffening inside her so-sensitive pussy once more.

She couldn’t share herself again now and not bare her soul to him. God, there’d be nothing left.

Gathering her strength, she pushed away from him and rose to her feet. Her legs had all the strength of rubber and gave way beneath her. She crumpled back to the ottoman.

Hunter sighed and lifted her onto his lap. “Stop, Kata. Let me take care of you.”

He carried her to the bedroom again. She tensed against the sublime pleasure of feeling his skin against hers. Part of her wanted him to go . . . but the thought of not being with him again shot panic through her.

That was a bitter pill to swallow. She sobbed harder.

Kissing the top of her head, he curled up on the bed and brought her onto his lap.

“J-just give me a minute alone,” she begged. And she hated the pleading note in her voice, but he’d stripped to the core. The only thing left was the scared girl inside so terrified of becoming her mother.

Hunter hesitated, then eased out from under her. “I’ll be right back. I’m not going far.”

A precious few moments passed, but Kata couldn’t center her thoughts or calm herself in the silence. Moments later, he returned, only to sit her on his lap again, then reach for the tray he’d placed on the bedside table.

“Open,” he demanded, placing a pastry with cinnamon and brown sugar right in front of her mouth.

She shook her head. Sugar wasn’t going to solve her problem.

He frowned. “You haven’t had a meal in hours. Eat. No arguments.”

Could the man never listen? “I don’t need this many calories.”

“By the time I’m done with you, you will. Open up.”

Exasperated, Kata opened, accepted the bite—and nearly groaned at the flaky, sweet texture of the pastry as it crossed her tongue. She reached out to grab it and feed herself. He pulled back.

“No, honey. Take from me what you need.”

Eat from his hand? She finally looked up, met his so-blue eyes, questioning. Yes, that’s exactly what he meant. He intended to feed her himself. The notion both thrilled and disturbed her. How intimate. How frightening that he was encouraging her dependence on him.

Even with those thoughts running through her head, Kata felt oddly contented to be so close to him, so connected. She couldn’t find the will to say no. He coaxed her into eating the whole thing, then followed with some grapes and a banana, taking a few bites for himself.

With his free hand, he stroked her back slowly, tenderly, dusting sweet kisses on her shoulder and neck. Finally, she relaxed, her disquiet waning under exhaustion.

Then he propped a finger beneath her chin and drew his mouth to hers. “You’re incredible. When I’m with you, I feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

And she felt like the people of Troy must have with the Trojan horse, succumbing to a handsome, seemingly harmless beast, only to realize that she was under a siege that would only end in total surrender.

He fitted his mouth over hers. At first, she stiffened, but he kissed her long and deep and slow until her body went liquid. Until she sagged against him. Then he took her by the hand and led her to the shower.

After setting her under the steaming spray and easing into the small stall, he refused to let her wash herself. He did it in reverent silence. With a pounding heart and hollow, aching eyes, Kata watched as he kissed her shoulders, washed her breasts, soaped her backside.

“I know today has been a lot to take in. I pushed you hard. But I’m so proud of the way you took everything I gave you. And you’re still here with me, the same you.”

She didn’t feel the same. Her body hummed, her mind was blank. Emotions swirled in a giant morass that terrified her, but telling Hunter that would only start an argument that she was too overwrought to win. Instead, she stood still as he shampooed her hair, then knelt to wash her feet, calves, thighs, pussy.

He lingered on the last, toying, teasing with his fingers until Kata had to brace herself against the wall to avoid falling. She bit her lip hard against the rise of pleasure, but nothing could stop it—or him—despite the knowledge that, if she came again, there would be virtually no part of her soul he hadn’t claimed.

As if he sensed that, he knelt at her feet and lifted her foot to the shower bench, leaving her pussy open to him.

“Hunter,” she whimpered. “Please . . .”

“No holding yourself back from me. You’re so wet and sweet. I need all of you.”

She didn’t have an opportunity to say another word. He set his mouth on her so-sensitive flesh, coaxing her arousal until he surged past her fear, until she knew only the feel of his tongue flirting with her clawing need for ecstasy, until she craved only the orgasm he dangled just beyond her reach.

He slid through her wet folds, tearing through her defenses. She couldn’t help it; her hands slid across his scalp, trying to hold him in place. But he didn’t need to be forced. That wicked tongue of his kept driving her up, hotter, higher, until she’d have given her soul for release.

“Yes!” she sobbed. “Yes . . .”

“I want to hear you scream, honey. Come.”

As if the words were some mysterious catalyst, the climax pounded over her, flattening her. She grabbed him, her nails making half-moons on his shoulders as her deafening cry resounded through the shower. And still, he lapped at her, wringing every possible tingle and twinge out of the orgasm.