It was a sight to behold, this small, curvy woman perched atop his much larger frame. Her hair streamed over her shoulders, playing an erotic game of peek-a-boo with her ni**les.
The idea that he was her first lover, the first man she’d trusted enough to make love with, staggered him. He was humbled by such a precious gift. It was one he’d cherish the rest of his life. One he’d protect with his very life.
“I’m close,” she said with a gasp. “I want you with me.”
“I’ll always be with you, baby. Come for me. I’ll catch you. Just let go.”
She leaned forward, bracing her palms on his chest, and she began to move faster, taking him deep and hard. Her breaths were ragged, her face flushed with heat and arousal.
His release swelled, growing like an impending thunderstorm. He felt her convulse around him, squeezing him tightly as she cried out in the throes of her orgasm. It spurred his own. He was helpless to do anything but arch into her, over and over, his entrance made easier as his release coated her passageway.
His vision blurred. The room dimmed around him until there was only her. She was all he saw, all he felt, all he knew. His arms strained against the ropes holding him down. He reached for her, desperate to hold her, touch her.
She sagged forward, her chest heaving, her breaths coming in ragged spurts over his chest. He was still wedged firmly inside her, still hard, achingly so. He was hypersensitive, still pulsing, each little wiggle from her eliciting another wave of ecstasy.
He waited, his patience fraying. He waited for her to untie him so he could hold her. So he could touch her and share in the aftermath of something wild and beautiful and innocent.
Finally she lifted herself up, her br**sts hovering temptingly in his line of vision. They were, as she was, exquisite perfection, her ni**les a delicate pink. His mouth watered at the idea of tasting her. Of sucking the rigid peaks into his mouth.
She reached over his head to pull at the bindings around his wrists. And when he was finally free, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, ignoring the stinging discomfort in his numb hands.
He rolled, bringing them to rest on their sides, him still penetrating her. He didn’t pull free. He wanted to stay connected, to keep the intimacy thick around them.
He kissed her hungrily, his hips rocking back and forth against her. And then, realizing what he was doing, he stilled, an apology poised on his lips.
As if knowing what he was thinking, she put a finger to his mouth.
“It’s all right,” she whispered. “I know you won’t hurt me.”
He closed his eyes and gathered her close. But he was careful to remain still inside her. He’d vowed to give her absolute control. If and when they made love without him being restrained, it would be at her doing. Not his.
“I love you,” he whispered against her ear. “I’ve never loved anyone more.”
She nestled further into his embrace, her mouth pressed against the column of his neck.
“I love you too, Jensen. Thank you for sharing yourself with me tonight. For trusting me with your demons.”
Left unsaid was that she had yet to confide her demons to him, but he didn’t take it personally nor did it anger or disappoint him. What she’d given him tonight was infinitely more precious. She’d given him the gift of herself. That would always be enough for him.
TWENTY-TWO
JENSEN came awake with a gasp, his heart thudding violently in his chest. Sweat poured down his forehead and he sat straight up, his pulse like a hammer in his ears. He immediately sought out Kylie, relief blowing sweet through his veins when he saw she was sleeping undisturbed beside him.
He eased back against the pillow, nausea sharp in his stomach. He blew his breath out through his nostrils and then sucked steadying air back in as he willed the violent images to go away.
He closed his eyes, as if that would shield him from the memories. Of his mother being beaten while he screamed and cried for his father to stop hurting his mama. Oh God, he just wanted it to go away. He wanted peace. He didn’t want to be that little boy any longer, incapable of preventing a monster from abusing his mother.
He wished to hell he hadn’t told Kylie of his past. That he’d left it tightly covered, suppressed under years of practiced control. He clenched his hands, curling his fingers into tight fists before relaxing them again, flexing in an effort to relieve some of the horrible tension coiling through his body.
It sickened him, the memories. He wanted nothing more than to banish them from his mind forever. But it wasn’t possible. He’d opened the door and there was no going back. There was nothing more for him to do than to deal with it all over again and begin the painful process of suppression once more.
How could he ever be good for Kylie when he hadn’t even been able to protect his own mother? How could she possibly trust in him after all he’d told her?
He stared at her in the darkness, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest. He ached to touch her but he held back because violence still simmered in his consciousness and he didn’t want that to touch her even peripherally. He wouldn’t have her awaken and be frightened, didn’t want her climbing from a nightmare and fearing his touch.
He turned his gaze back to the ceiling, giving up all hope of sleeping tonight. Pain burned brightly in his soul, the ache fiercer than it had been in a very long time. If baring one’s soul was supposed to be so freeing then why did he feel imprisoned all over again?
TWENTY-THREE
KYLIE felt on top of the world Monday morning when she rode to work with Jensen. Optimism, an alien concept to her until now, simmered in her mind.
So she hadn’t been able to make love to Jensen without him being tied to the bed. Yet. But they had made love! That was a huge step for her.
She was . . . happy. When was the last time she could say that and really mean it? Her old version of happiness was merely a shell, a code word for simply existing. It wasn’t until she got involved with Jensen that she realized just how much of her life was passing her by while she kept her head firmly in the sand.
The weekend had been utter bliss. They hadn’t made love again since Friday night, and both seemed reluctant to push too hard and too fast, but the intimacy had grown around them to such an extent that Kylie knew it wouldn’t be long before they took the plunge again.
And maybe this time she’d pluck up the courage not to tie Jensen up for the act.
She’d been worried about Jensen after he’d confided about his childhood to her, but other than being a little quieter than normal Saturday morning, he didn’t seem to be much worse for the wear.