Unleashed: Declan & Kara (Unleashed #1-4; Beg for It #1) (22 page)

“I can’t think when
I’m around you!” I cried.

“You’re thinking
too much.”

I gave a shaky laugh.
“I don’t think that’s my problem.” Caught in the burning heat
of his gaze, I felt breathless.

“Come here.”

Why did my legs betray
me, taking steps over to him? And why could I already feel heat
building in me, a pulsing throb deep in my core?

He put his drink down
on a table, watching me the whole time. I stood facing him, trembling
and exposed. He stood close, so close I could almost feel him as his
eyes raked over me. I felt stripped naked though I still wore my
skirt and bra. I shook slightly, half with fear, half anticipation.

He didn’t touch me,
but his words stroked me as he whispered in my ear, “You need to
come, Kara. You’re so close. You need it so much.” Then he
brushed a knuckle so gentle, so light against the lace of my bra over
my nipple. My knees nearly buckled from the slightest contact.

“That’s it,” he
coaxed me. “Let yourself feel this. Let yourself have what you
need.” He brought his lips to my throat, kissing and licking me
where I felt so sensitive. Then he stood back, watching me pant.

He appraised me as if I
were his acquisition, his to do whatever he wished for one whole
week. He fixed on the rise and swell of my breasts. Under his
scrutiny, I could feel the ache and pull, my traitorous nipples
peaking again, answering his desire with unmistakable arousal.

Low and controlled, he
said, “We’re going to begin your training now, Kara. You’ve
been naughty. Now you’re going to take your punishment.”

His words made me gasp.
And more. My brain wanted to fight, but my sex clenched, growing
slick in response. I’d never felt like such a lunatic, such a gulf
between thought and action.

Not since six years
ago. Declan made me that way. He captivated me like no other.

“Hands on the back of
the couch. Now.” The intensity of his gaze, the raw power throbbing
through his muscled body made me quiver. This made no sense. I had no
idea what he would do to me.

But I couldn’t
resist. I never could with him. With Declan, my answer had always
been yes. No matter that it didn’t make sense, no matter the risk,
everything in me said,

“Yes.”

The word slipped out
from my parted lips, barely a whisper, stealing out into the space
between us, binding me to him.

Kara

Then

Mashing up an old
banana into a chipped mixing bowl, I told myself this was totally
normal. Choosing to stay home on a hot Saturday night in late June to
bake banana bread—that was what most 18-year-olds were doing
tonight, right? I definitely wasn’t losing my mind, blowing off my
boyfriend to bake bread like a 1950s housewife. And I most definitely
wasn’t thinking about walking down to Declan’s cabin—whom I
happened to know was also at the ranch tonight—and using
fresh-baked banana bread as a pathetic ploy to go visit. Definitely
not.

Mandy had called me a
couple of hours ago, pissed off as usual. Seemed I couldn’t do
anything right these days.

“You’re not
coming?” Her voice had reached an octave previously only recorded
from dolphins. “I thought we had a deal!”

She had a lame plan to
try to seduce one of Bruce’s friends who’d been sleeping with
some other girl who was supposedly her friend. I was supposed to be a
decoy in some way. I hadn’t listened too closely. You couldn’t
get too involved with Mandy and her schemes.

“I have a headache,”
I’d offered lamely. Same excuse I’d given Bruce. He’d taken it
fine, told me to take a couple Advil and get some rest. He really
wasn’t a bad guy. And, honestly, he wasn’t all that
head-over-heels for me, either. He was heading off to U Montana in a
month and in his head he was already there. I wasn’t putting out.
Prom night hadn’t gone down as he’d hoped. So really I was just
his hometown girl, expiration date almost passed.

We were about to go our
separate ways, and though we both knew it was ending, neither of us
made the effort to declare it. What was the point? He was only around
for a few more weeks and those weeks were all about hanging out with
our mutual friends. What was the point of upsetting things, turning
over the apple cart when you didn’t have to? It wasn’t as if I
was going to date anyone else anyway.

Declan had absolutely
no interest. I knew that. He’d made that perfectly clear. I’d
seen him in town the other day with yet another skank. He was a
regular skank magnet. Whether they found him or he found them, I
didn’t know, but whenever I saw him out and about he had some
trashy girl draped all over him.

The one I’d seen him
with the other night had spider webs tattooed all down the side of
her leg. Spider webs. Did Declan like that? Well, clearly he did
because he had his tongue down her throat. Mandy plus a couple of
other girlfriends and I had been driving around, living it up like we
did most nights. Declan and the spider web girl had been outside a
local dive, making out against his truck in the parking lot.

We’d all gagged and
pretend barfed like it was the grossest, lamest thing we’d ever
seen. Only I actually wished it was me pressed up against his truck.

I was clearly losing my
mind.

I poured the bread
batter into a pan, then popped it into the oven. These basic tasks I
could still do. It was everything else I sucked at.

I had to forget
entirely about that mortifying, unspeakably embarrassing incident in
Declan’s truck. It had happened a month ago. But I still thought
about it all the time.

Had he actually taken
me over his knee and spanked me? Given me, an 18-almost-19-year-old a
spanking? Like I was a toddler?

And here’s where I
made myself blush even standing alone in the privacy of my own
kitchen. My stomach flipped, my hands started to shake when I
remembered how much I had liked it. I’d loved it.

The feel of his rough,
warm palm coming down on my ass. How strong he was, the way his bicep
had bulged under the sleeve of his t-shirt. His smell. The chafe of
his jeans against my bare thighs.

The shock and sting of
that smack, when his hand had first come down. Tears had sprung to my
eyes. My lips had parted, no sound coming out at first. I didn’t
know what was happening. I was furious, ashamed.

And then. Then the heat
built up. I could hear his breathing, rough and ragged. I could hear
the low sound he made when his hand came down on my skin, a deep huh
in his throat. It was just us, inside the cab of his truck, and I was
completely under his control. He had me right where he wanted me and
I was helpless.

Before I could think,
before I could process anything that was happening, my body started
responding. My heartbeat picked up, my breathing accelerated, my
hands grabbed onto the armrest in his truck. As he smacked me full
across the ass, I pressed into him and felt his hardness, the length
of him straining against the crotch of his jeans. I wriggled against
him, wanting to feel more, needing it.

I tried not to think
about it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. His hand on me,
the pressure of his palm. How his initial act of frustration and
annoyance had suddenly turned into intimacy. The low, throaty moan
that had escaped from my throat.

His hand had frozen.
I’d frozen too, barely breathing. It was as if both of us could
still hear my moan, like it was echoing in his truck. And then he’d
thrown me away like I repulsed him. The moment was over before it had
even begun. He’d driven us back to the ranch, not a word exchanged
between us.

We’d barely said a
word to each other in the intervening weeks other than a cursory
“hello.” And even that was only when he was with the other guys.
Even then he wouldn’t really say a full hello, just an infuriating
nod underneath the big cowboy hat he always wore. Damn it, I wished
the strong silent type didn’t have so much sex appeal.

In a sane universe, I
wouldn’t have enjoyed getting spanked. I wouldn’t still be
thinking about it, about Declan all the time. I would be out with my
perfectly normal, perfectly boring high school boyfriend doing
something dumb I found perfectly engrossing.

But this was not a sane
universe. Everything had tipped on its axis since Declan had arrived
in my life. The only thing left to do was cling on and try to find
new footing on this entirely new surface.

And bake banana bread.

Checking on it, I found
it was already time to take it out. I set it down on a hot pad and
took out the cooling rack. Taking a butter knife, I nestled it gently
between the edge of the bread and the pan. It felt loose enough.
Small things, routines, calmed me. Baking bread. I did it well, I’d
done it for years. I could still do it now.

And now maybe I’d
bring a loaf down to Declan? I’d seen his truck parked outside of
his cabin. Unusual for a Saturday night, he almost always went out.
But tonight he’d stayed home. Like me.

Before I could stop my
train of thought, I ran to my room and changed clothes. I didn’t
want to overdo it, so I just grabbed a t-shirt and short shorts. As
if I could wear anything that would make me not look ridiculously
obvious and lamely hopeful, knocking on his door on a Saturday night.

But obsession was a
powerful force and it clearly had me in its grip. It was Saturday
night, hot and sticky in late June, and I had to see him. Maybe he’d
have his shirt off? Dear God, I might not make it. I’d have a heart
attack. What an incredible way to go.

At the last minute, I
made a thermos of lemonade, too. So dumb, like I was asking him to go
on a church picnic. I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop my feet
from walking out the door.

My heart just about
beat out of my chest as I made my way in the darkness down to his
cabin. Daddy was out tonight playing poker with some neighbors. The
light was on in Declan’s cabin. His truck was still parked there
outside. Would we finally have a moment alone, just the two of us?

I heard the moaning a
few feet away from his front door. It was a woman and she was really
enjoying herself.

“Oh yeah!” she
yelled, breathy.

I didn’t hear
anything after that. Maybe he was watching TV?

I noticed that the door
was ajar. I guessed that was why I could hear things so loud and
clear. I inched toward the doorway, the light peeking through. Should
I knock?

Without thinking, I put
my hand to the door and pushed. It opened slowly, silently, and I saw
what was making all that noise.

Declan sat on the
couch, shirtless as I’d imagined. He didn’t have his pants on
either. He had his eyes closed, his head tilted back as a woman
kneeled between his legs and took his cock into her mouth.

“That’s it.” He
groaned in pleasure, bringing a hand to the back of her head.

She made a deep purring
noise, running her hands up and down his thighs as she sucked. “Mmm.”
She enjoyed herself as she took him in deep.

I stood, frozen to the
spot, banana bread in one hand, thermos of lemonade tucked under my
arm. My jaw must have dropped to the floor. But I didn’t move.

Eyes closed, Declan
leaned back with his throat stretched out and a dusting of stubble
across his strong jaw. His shoulders were so broad, so defined, his
chest a pure wall of muscle. He looked like raw, potent power with
his thick thighs spread. A groan came out of his throat.

He cupped the back of
the other girl’s head and pushed her down on his hard cock. All
male domination, in a deep, throaty voice he told her, “Suck it.”
The girl moaned, loving every second of it.

A shudder traveled up
through my body. My core tightened and heat pooled deep within, my
pussy starting to throb. I’d never seen anything so dirty, so
erotic.

Hand on her head, so
controlling, he said, “Yes, like that.”

I knew I should turn
and run but I couldn’t. I couldn’t move a muscle. I could see his
pulse throbbing in his neck, could see his outstretched hand fisting
in the couch pillow. His thighs corded with muscle, tense. Her head
bobbed up and down, working for him.

I bit my lip and looked
up. He was looking straight at me. Frozen, caught, I couldn’t move.
His eyes devoured me, scorching me with an intensity I’d never seen
before.

“I’m going to
come,” he growled, looking straight at me. I couldn’t stop a soft
moan from escaping my lips as he threw his head back and groaned
while his cock exploded come into the other girl’s mouth.

Then I ran. Holding my
ridiculous banana bread and my church picnic thermos of lemonade, I
ran as fast as my 18-year-old legs could carry me all the way back to
my house up on the hill. I pounded up the porch, slammed the front
door behind me and though we never did, I locked it tight. Throwing
my undelivered gifts to the floor, I ran up the stairs and down the
hall to my bedroom.

But then what did I do?
Did I bury my head in my hands and cry like a good girl, promising
myself that I was done for good with Declan? Did I learn my lesson?

No. I brought my
fevered hands down to my wet, throbbing pussy and discovered my own
needs. I’d never seen anything like that.

My fingers worked my
slick clit. I wanted to kneel between his legs. I wanted to take his
cock full in my mouth, have his hand fisted in my hair and forcing me
down on him. I moaned, my fingers moving faster. I wanted him to tilt
his head back and call out my name. I wanted his hot come shooting
down my throat.

It was the last thought
that put me over the edge, sending wave after crashing wave of orgasm
shuddering though my sweat-soaked body. I wanted him, I needed him. I
hated him.

Now