Fighting Dirty

“I told you I wasn’t fit company.” He didn’t entirely understand his purpose, but he felt determined on it all the same. “You wouldn’t listen.” He watched her gaze go heavy and her lips part. Turned on? How long would that last?

Switching gears, he scooped her up and put her properly in the bed, her head on a pillow. Looking her over, he said, “You know what I wanted tonight?”

“Not me,” she whispered, bitterness filtering in. “But I wanted to be here all the same.”

“You’re wrong.” Slowly, giving her time, he lifted one wrist toward the center of the headboard and the Velcro cuffs hanging there.

She jerked her head around to watch as he took his time closing the soft cuff around her very narrow wrist.

“I want you most of all,” he told her, and then clarified, “But I want to fuck you hard.”

She lifted a brow, tested her hand in the cuff, then looked at him. “Okay.”

For only a second he closed his eyes, divided over whether or not he liked her easy compliance. Rissy wasn’t like other women, not in the most important ways. She never had been. He understood that, and now it was past time for her to understand.

He took her other wrist and fastened the second cuff around it. “Right now you have plenty of slack, but I’d like to tighten that some.”

She tugged experimentally, then gave a timid nod of agreement.

Armie straddled her naked body, staying on his knees as he reached for the center of the headboard and the slide loop that pulled her arms up tighter, and tighter still.

He liked this too much, having Rissy stretched out, contained, helpless beneath him.

His to do with as he pleased.

This particular position robbed her breasts of fullness and made her stomach even flatter. He scooted back so that he rested over her long thighs—and could see all of her.

“Armie...?”

“Hush.” Very lightly, he trailed his fingertips from her elbows, paused over her breasts to toy with her now-tight nipples, then down her sides, making her squirm. He continued over her belly until both thumbs moved over her sex.

“Armie,” she said again.

“I have a gag, you know.” Idly he stroked her, parted her to look at her, admired her growing dampness.

“I wouldn’t suggest you try it.”

At her mean tone, his gaze lifted to hers. “Why not?” Calm, quiet and in control, he continued to touch her. “You don’t like the idea of silence? You plan on giving me hell, telling me how you’ll do as you please regardless of what I want?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe.”

The side of his mouth curled. “I’d like to put you in the ankle cuffs.”

“No.” With her face beet red, she insisted, “Not happening.”

“You don’t like for me to look at you?” He cupped his palm over her. “You’re pretty here, Rissy. All soft and, yeah...” He watched her as he moved one finger inside her. “Wet.”

Catching her bottom lip in her teeth, she lifted her hips against him. “Mmm...”

“You like that.” Of course she did. She was getting her way and it excited her.

Hell, it excited him, too.

After two breaths, she said, “I don’t care if you look at me, but you’re not going to—”

He added another finger, making her trail off with a gasp. “I wasn’t asking permission, honey.” He pressed deeper, curled his fingers a little and found just the right spot that arched her body and wrenched a moan from her. “I like this, being fully dressed with you naked and restrained.”

“Get...get naked.”

“Not yet. Not for a while.”

Her heavy eyes focused on him. “What do you mean?”

“I want to watch you come a few times first. And, Stretch? No faking. I’ll know if you do and I won’t like it.”

“I wouldn’t.” She shifted against his hand, then squeezed his fingers. “With you, I don’t have—” she panted, twisted and squeaked out “—to.”

Satisfaction unfurled. “Getting close, huh? Maybe this’ll help.” With his other hand, he touched her breasts, lightly stroking, circling around her nipples without touching them. She turned her head from one side to the other, then pressed it back with a frustrated moan.

Taking her by surprise, Armie closed his fingers around her nipple. Watching her face, seeing every hint of response, he rolled, gently squeezed, then tugged until she started making those stirring, sexy sounds of excitement.

“Armie.”

“Hmm?” New moisture bathed his fingers as he continued the slow, measured glide against her, in her. “You ready to come for me, Rissy?”

She didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure she could. Her body drew taut, heated, then bowed as she ground out a harsh climax, gradually going limp afterward, now with a light sheen glowing on her chest and cheekbones.

Slowly he withdrew his fingers and put them to his mouth.

Rissy lifted her lashes to watch him, her eyes midnight blue and hazy.

“I like how you taste.” Moving to the side of her, Armie pulled off his shirt and dropped it over the side of the bed. Next he pulled off his shoes and socks and tossed them toward the closet. Leaving on his jeans he turned back to her.

“Are you sorry I forced my way in?” she asked.

“I’m sorry for a lot of things.” Not that particularly, but yeah, he regretted how much she affected him—and he regretted that he hadn’t been strong enough to leave her alone.

“Then unhook me.” Expression hurt, she tugged at her arms. “I’ll leave now.”

“Naked?” Again he cupped his hand over her sex. She still throbbed gently. “Soaking wet?”

Twisting her hips away, she said, “You want me to leave, so I’ll leave!”

“Now that you got off? I don’t think so. I’m still on the edge here.”

“So get naked and—”

“Not yet.”

She growled, and again tugged at her arms.

Deciding he’d talked about it enough, Armie shifted around between her knees, lifted her legs over his shoulders and said, “Give me two minutes and you’ll be moaning again.”

She inhaled sharply. “Armie, wait. I’m still—”

“Sensitive? I know.” Gently, he drew his tongue over her and felt her flinch. “Christ, you smell good.” He nuzzled closer, breathing her in while ignoring her small gasps and futile efforts to shy away. He teased with his tongue, lightly at first, laving softly until her breathing changed and she no longer resisted. Cupping her hips in his hands he lifted her, then closed his mouth around her clitoris.

She gave a guttural moan broken by sexy whimpers that grew into sharp cries, and far too quickly she broke again.

Armie was so hard he hurt, and in record time he’d stripped off his jeans and rolled on a condom. He was back over her before she’d even gotten her eyes open. Pressing her knees back, seeing her how she would have looked in the ankle cuffs, he watched as his erection slowly pressed into her. Other than a faint, vibrating moan, she didn’t stir.

“So wet,” he growled. “So soft and slick.” He pressed deep, ground himself against her and knew he wouldn’t last. Not after witnessing her pleasure twice. Maybe with a different woman—but not with her, not with Rissy. “God,” he whispered, because that was better than making admissions he shouldn’t make. “God.”