Bind Me Close: 3 (Knights in Black Leather) (19 page)

Another crack made her cry out. The ball and gag muffled her
dismay. She tried to rise but Giles sank a hand into her hair and held her in
her pose of submission.

Okay. Just breathe. The whip isn’t on me.
Only the
floor.

The whip slashed closer, sharp flicks of air wafting over
her skin. She got goose bumps listening, excitement mounting with her fear. She
wanted to run, she needed to stay and learn what he’d do with that sharp,
cracking whip. She didn’t. Couldn’t. She had said no pain and Wade had agreed
to that, so why suddenly—

A man’s lips caressed her pussy from the rear.

She bucked but a man who stood in front of her held her
shoulders, pinning her in place.

The man behind her ate her. Oh, good god, he ate her as if
she were the finest delicacy he’d ever tasted. She tried to image what he must
look like, the position of him on his elbows and knees, his tongue invading her
swollen folds from behind, the sound of his service to her a sensuous flow of
juicy little kisses and licks and laves.

She hung her head, lifting her ass so he had better access
to her pussy. He growled, sank his tongue up into her juicy channel and
titillated her with such unerring skill. Who was that? Giles? Wade? Both men
had eaten her tender tissues, making her flood with creamy excitement. The man
who used his tongue and teeth to adore her could be either. She moaned,
wiggling her ass at him, whoever he was, and widened her knees to give him
broader access. She could live like this, love like this forever.

He obliged her, invaded her, filled her to his hilt. One
hand to her nape, he pummeled her with his rhythm and his cock. He rocked her
in new tempos, slow and easy, hard and quick, a ram, a slow claiming and then
he withdrew. She felt the lack of his body heat and at once she knew he’d left
her. Left her.

She shook her head and wanted to yell no as her tender lover
pulled away, only to jerk at a sharp slap to her ass.

Her flesh smarted from the blow. But she couldn’t care. She
needed that man behind her to give her his rod again. He had primed her, pumped
her and left her frantic. She pushed back in invitation.

But she got another whack on her ass cheek. Then on the
other.

She whimpered and went still.

The man behind her grabbed her hair and pulled her up,
arching her backward. Caught in an awkward position, she relied on one man to
support her back, to help her keep the arch. And then, in the next second, she
shivered as a drop of hot, vicious liquid spread on her skin between her
breasts. Wax. Thick, sweet-smelling wax soothed her. The whip was gone. One man
stroked the undersides of her breasts and droplets of hot wax hit her upturned
nipples, making her mewl and whine and wiggle. Her areolas, so full and
achingly needy, were drenched in the drops of wax. No sooner did she wish for
more down her cleavage than her desire became reality. A hot, endless trail of
cooling wax wended its way along her torso toward her navel and her mound…and
her wet slit.

If she could have screamed in delight, god knew, she would
have. She’d never had anything so delicious on her body. Never reacted to hot
and cold so dramatically. Never needed a lover’s body inside her own to ease
the ache as she did now.

The wax coated her. Became her second skin. Her other self.
Hot. Smooth. Cooling. Imprisoning her flesh. Forming a new Willow. A woman on
fire to have a lover.

Pulled to her feet, she swayed with the power of her
arousal, the wash of relief that she had avoided the knife and the whip. Behind
her, a man cut her bonds, massaged her wrists and set her hands to her waist.

In front of her, a man caught her in his arms. This man she
knew by the commanding touch of him. She knew him by the wiry brush of his
chest hair against her arm. She recognized him by the way he breathed so
fiercely through his nostrils, by his suppressed groans when her nipple touched
his forearm and by the heavenly, musky smell of him. This man, the one who took
her up in his arms and laid her on a warm, blanketed table, was Wade. He was
too quick, too strong, too determined to be milder, gentler Giles.

He clamped her in stirrups, her weeping wet pussy on view
for the world to see, then clamped each hand in a velvet cord at her side. Her
body aching for Wade’s touch, she arched and at her appeal Giles bent over her
and licked one nipple.

Had Wade abandoned her to Giles? Where had he gone?

As Giles caught her other breast in his hand to tweak the
nipple, he laved her areola. She wiggled, empty, wanton, wild to be filled.

Where was Wade?

Ah. His cock probed her channel. She lifted her hips in
invitation and he complied by filling her. Even with her gag firmly in place
she growled in delicious abandon. But he withdrew and she keened like an animal
deprived of sun, food, water, life.
Come back.

Even Giles’ lips sucking on her nipples couldn’t compare to
the glory of being fucked by Wade. She cried her objection, tossing her head
and eager to be gone from here, done with Giles, open only to Wade. Wade who
had disappeared. Had he?

She whimpered.

Just as she feared he had left her to find her orgasm by
Giles’ ministrations alone, Wade ran a hand along the trail of wax from her
cleavage to her belly to her quivering pelvic bone to her mound. There, sweet
man, he cupped her, parted her and ate her as only he could do, as only he knew
how to satisfy her.

She sighed, she rejoiced, she creamed and let him have all
of her. Her legs wide, her pussy open to the cool night air and the hot eyes of
all in the club on her swollen flesh, she went with Wade on tides of
fulfillment. He brought her to climax once with his lips. Again with his
fingers on her clit. And finally, oh dear god, with his magnificent cock
filling her, ramming her, claiming her as his own.

She came so often stars danced in her eyes. Her body limp,
her knees splaying open for all to see the traces of her arousal by the
delectable talents of the one man for her, she let him pet her and by his
touch, allowed him to praise her.

Quivering, a mindless, boneless mass, she lay on the table,
for how long she could not say. He stood beside her, the scent of his body
comforting her, his hands slowly kneading her limbs, her toes and fingers. The
silken, warm blanket felt like a sweet cocoon and she recovered her strength by
simply lying there in utter peace beside him.

A few spectators came up to caress her arm or a leg and she
took their tokens of aftercare with small sighs. She had seen this behavior
last night when she’d visited and understood this was a common show of
affection for those who had shared themselves in public. But she needed more
and from Wade. Only Wade.

She welcomed their gratitude.

She gathered her own to give to the man who had been
responsible for giving her her greatest fantasy. With strong hands to her
shoulders Wade circled around her and helped her to sit. He took away her gag
and ball. To reward her for her compliance he caressed her jaw and cheeks to
stimulate her and bring her muscles to normal feeling. Then he removed her
blindfold, driving his hands through her long, loose hair and massaging her
head to help her recover. Her eyes never left him. His devotion. His care. Her
man. Her lover. She saw him now in his fullness, all that he meant to her. And
she trembled with the power of her realization.

Overcome and woozy she reeled and readily let him lift her
and walk off with her back to a dressing room. There, in privacy, he kept her
in his arms as he ran his hands over every inch of her, petting and stroking,
kissing and nipping her. His actions seemed like offerings of thanks for her
performance.

But it hadn’t really been one. Through languid eyes she
watched him in his careful ministrations. As he had done with her after every
sexually intimate encounter they’d shared, he silently, carefully touched her
and kissed her. Her collarbone, her cleavage, the crease of her elbow, beneath
her ear, no part of her was left untended. No part unadored. And that precisely
was what his actions felt like. Adorations. She writhed, loving each new
sensation, almost embarrassed by the delicacy with which he savored her. Never
had she enjoyed a man more. Never would she enjoy any other man so well.

She understood that now all too well.

So when he set her in the chair and strode out of the room
she was glad he’d gone. She needed time to accept her new reality. She belonged
to him.

Even if she didn’t want to.

* * * * *

She must have dozed, because when Wade opened the door he
had changed clothes. Showered too. His hair was damp, as if he’d finger-combed
it in his haste to get back to her. She smiled, sated, happy but leery of what
decisions she would have to make about her future. Could she leave here wanting
him as she did? Could she stay and not have him all to herself?

Wade didn’t talk but paced back and forth. Dressed in jeans
a white shirt and boots he appeared to be the sheriff, the ordinary-looking
rancher she had known. His gaze dropped over her. Taking his time about
assessing her, he made mesmerizing love to her with his dark-green eyes.
Beneath her blanket her naked nipples hardened as he concentrated on them. Her
pussy, sore and swollen and utterly exhausted, pulsed so hard she gasped and
clutched her stomach. Her blanket fell and she was naked, needing him. Oh god,
again, she wanted this man inside her, around her, taking her to heights she’d
never known existed except with him. On a shudder she closed her eyes.

He caught her against him, his lips in her hair, his arms
like bands of steel around her yielding body.

She gently pushed away, closed the door behind her and stood
against the wall. “I can’t be in your arms, Wade.”

Shock widened his features. “You can’t tell me you hated
that out there.”

She reached out to tame a lock of his hair over his brow.
“Never. But if you lay a finger on me I’ll have another orgasm and another.”

He seemed lost. Bewildered. “That bad or that good?”

“Good, Wade. So damn good I can’t seem to calm down.”

“Let me help.” He hauled her close.

She let out a laugh. “If you think you’ll make me come again
and I’ll survive it—”

“I want to take you home with me.”

“I’d like that.” She sighed as he wrapped her tenderly in
his arms again and she leaned into him. “I’m too tired to argue and I need you,
Wade.”

“You need to sleep, baby.”

“I do.” She surrendered to him as he cupped her breast,
kissed the hollows of her throat and wended his way to her nipple to lick and
suck and nip. She gripped his hair, defenseless, absorbed by him. Her pussy pounded,
empty, willing and oh so eager to have him fill her up. “God, Wade, you’re
going to kill me, honey.”

“I want this with you every night, every day.” He laved her
other breast while one hand found her slit. He inserted one finger to score her
clit with his nail. “You are so ready for me again. I have to have you. No
other man. No other man. You hear me? All mine. All the time. Say you’ll do
that. Say tonight proves that.”

“You want me with you exclusively?”

“Live with me.”

Her mouth fell open in shock and delight. Her blood flamed
with hope she could have him for her own. But how foolish was that? She had a
job to consider and her sister. Could she chuck everything she was to stay here
and live with a man she barely knew?

“I need to work.”

“No, you don’t. In fact I wish you wouldn’t.”

She stared at him, not comprehending that he or any modern
man would want a woman who didn’t have her own professional life. Unless being
Wade Saxon’s woman was so unique that dependence was a key ingredient.

He brushed his lips on hers. “Willow, I need you.”

“And I would be your sub—”

“I’d train you. You’d get better and better. We’d be a damn
fine team.”

“At bondage? At exhibitions like that one?” She motioned to
the club’s main halls.

His nostrils flared. He glanced up and away at the ceiling.
“You loved it that much?”

“Yeah. I did. You made it so good for me I think I’m on the
sauce now.” She hated to hold his feet to the fire on this but she was trying
to keep a portion of herself intact. If she agreed to be his would she always
be staking out her own territory? Would she always be warding him off? She’d
never let one man rule her. Not in the past. Why do it now?

She knew why. She loved him. His generosity. His charm. His
devotion to his children. His care of her. She hadn’t known any other man to
display so many facets. All of which she admired. Wanted in a man of her own.

But he was a Dom. No man had ever controlled her. She was
too big, too bold for any man to even consider that. But this one could rule
her. Heart and soul.

If she let him. And she had to test him to see if he would
let her have some tiny say in her own life. Otherwise…

“What do you think, Willow?” His hands caressed as surely as
his words seduced.

She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. “What if I
tell you that I loved what we did tonight?”

“Damn straight. I saw it written in every move of your very
healthy body.” He stepped back, his arms crossed, his verdant gaze promising
wild, sweet fucking. “What do you really want to ask?”

She grabbed her courage and took a leap of faith. “What if I
want to repeat what we did tonight?”

“The exhibitionism?”

She nodded, hating that she was too enthralled with him and
his offer to speak.

“That’s no problem. I’ll like making new music with you.” He
winked.

She rocked back on her heels. “You would do that?”

“Believe it. On two conditions.”

“What?” she asked, skeptical she could agree to his terms.

“You wear a collar. Mine.”