Part 6 (1/2)
”What are you going to do?”
”Why? Don't you trust me?”
”You have me pinned to the bed. Why should I?”
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. ”Because I'm about to become your whole world.” Her answering s.h.i.+ver of delight was all he'd hoped to arouse.
He stretched his hand along her arm until he reached her wrist. Her arm tensed, but she didn't resist when he tied the fabric strip around her wrist. She was curious. More curious than afraid. Foolish girl! He eased off her and dragged her closer to the headboard, and then looped the fabric around one iron bar and tied it. He did the same with her other wrist. ”Now, get on your knees.”
Darcy's breath was harsh and coming faster. She struggled against her bonds and pulled herself into a kneeling position.
He reached around her body to the snap of her jeans and opened them, then smoothed the rough fabric over her hips and down her legs.
Raising one knee at a time, she helped him remove the pants.
He tossed them to the floor. ”Do I have to tie your legs?”
”No,” she replied, her voice small.
Having subdued her, Quentin was ready to begin his campaign. ”What do you want, Darcy?”
Her back quivered. ”For you to touch me.”
With his hands on the soft skin of her b.u.t.tocks, he almost lost his resolve. He parted her cheeks and pressed his thumb against her a.s.shole. ”Like this?”
”Quentin?” Her voice rose on a plaintive note.
”No?” He leaned down and tongued the rosy ring. ”Like this?”
”Quentin!” Her breath caught.
”Is that all you want me to do?”
”No. I want you to f.u.c.k me.”
He kissed each cheek. ”Well, we all have our little disappointments.”
He left the bed and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
”Quentin? Quentin!”
With her angry curses ringing in his ears, he strode into her kitchen and found a bottle of lousy Scotch. Pouring two fingers into a tumbler, he savored the bite of the liquor and willed his flesh to obey his command.
He wasn't one to ponder over the deeper emotions, so he didn't question why this particular woman raised his possessive hackles. He just accepted that she was his. The time had come for him to take a mate.
He imagined her, still perched with her shapely a.s.s in the air, fighting her restraints. She'd spit nails at him right about now.
This might be a long night, but before the sun rose, she'd learn who was master.
Darcy woke to an incredible sensation. A hot, wet cloth swirled over her a.s.s and in between her legs. She moaned and widened the gap between them. The cloth dipped to circle her c.u.n.t, and she lifted her hips. An invitation her tormentor couldn't miss.
”You're awake,” Quentin said, his tone matter-of-fact.
In an instant, she recalled everything. She tugged against the restraints, but they held. ”What are you doing?”
”Preparing you, love. I don't want Joe's scent on your body when I take you.”
Darcy bit her lip. Her body remembered better where they'd left off. She still ached for completion after his diabolical seduction. He'd promised to make her cream. Instead, she'd been left to scrunch the bedding between her thighs in an attempt to m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e herself.
”Get on your knees.” His voice held a self-satisfied tone.
He was enjoying her torment. She glowered, but complied immediately.
”Good girl.” His naked skin blanketed her back, and his c.o.c.k slipped between her legs.
Darcy tilted her hips, hoping he'd slide right in.
”Not yet.”
She was afraid of that. Her legs trembled, and her c.u.n.t wept.
He brought the cloth to her neck, rubbed over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, paying special attention to her aching nipples. Then he scrubbed her stomach. ”That's better.”
”I'm not going to beg,” Darcy said, hoping to incite an argument and break through his icy control.
He chuckled, a mirthless sound that worried her more.
”Your legs are shaking. I'll make you more comfortable.” He reached past her and snagged a pillow, and then placed it beneath her belly. ”Lie down on this.”
Darcy lowered herself, disturbed to find the pillow raised her a.s.s. She was positioned for his pleasure.
His hands cupped a b.u.t.tock each then glided to her thighs. ”Loosen your legs.” He arranged her thighs and knelt between them, encouraging her to widen the gap with nudges from his knees. ”Just right.”
Just right for what? A warm gust of air blew over the heated flesh between her legs. She s.h.i.+vered.
”Tell me what you want,” he commanded.
Darcy hesitated. The last time he'd asked that question, her answer hadn't done the trick.
”You have to tell me, or I won't help you.” His words gusted over her quivering flesh.
”I want you to f.u.c.k me.”
He slapped one side of her a.s.s. A stinging, sharp blow. ”Wrong answer.”