Page 131 of At Her Pleasure

“Take me to the bed, Mick. Give your Mistress pleasure.”

She put her hands on his shoulders as he got his legs under him. He pushed up with an impressive display of strength, though he rested his ass on the couch for a beat, her still on his lap. The change of position had made them come apart, but that would be fixed. He kissed her sternum, and she threaded her fingers in his hair, holding him there.

His arms tightened around her, then he rose, carrying her to the main bed in the back. He eased her down on it, removing his arms from around her so she could slide back and make room for him. He got onto the bed, knees planted between her legs, loose and open. His gaze devoured what she revealed. When he began to lower his head, she put her foot on his chest.

“Not right now. Put yourself inside me.” She braced her feet and bent her knees. “I want to watch.”

He sat back on his heels. Then, using one of the bound hands, he guided himself to her opening.

She pushed up on her toes to take him in. Once he was in her channel, he released himself and gripped the edge of the skylight frame above, as if his arms were bound over him.

“Fuck me, Mick,” she said breathlessly.

He used his hold on the frame to begin to thrust. Raising her hips further, she completed the lock. Stroke, retreat, stroke, retreat. She slid her gaze over his flexing hips, his abdomen and chest muscles, the scar and skeleton necklace she’d left upon him. Then back up to absorb his expression as the arousal built where she wanted it to go.

His gaze was on her breasts again. “I want your mouth there, Mick. Come down.”

Holding his weight off of her, he curved his bound hands around one breast. He squeezed gently, fondled it as he put his mouth over the jutting tip. As she curled her hand into his hair, an easy sigh left her. She rode the powerful waves of arousal as he suckled her.

When he moved to the other tip, he was careful not to catch it with the chain connecting the cuffs. He took his time, his mouth drawing upon the nipple, shaping and teasing, licking and pulling, as long as she wanted.

Finally, she gripped the chain between the cuffs and guided him so he lay upon her, his hands above her head.

“Fuck me, Mick,” she ordered. “Take me home.”

She’d thought about taking off the cuffs, but in the end, no. They both wanted the reminder. Mistress and sub. Here she held the control, and he served, because he needed to serve her. And that need was clean.

She’d reminded him why. She was the one he’d saved without having to sacrifice anyone else. Before he’d learned that all heroes—a name he’d never give himself—had ghosts and nightmares.

Otherwise, they weren’t really heroes.

“Oh…” The climax came fast, a much more intense rush. She wrapped an arm around his back, legs over his hips and flexing buttocks. “Come with me, Mick. Let me feel it.”

He obeyed, but only after the first cry tore from her, her body melding with his, pushing into his strength. He moved his hands behind her head to cup her skull. He poured his need into her, and she gave him hers.

It took a while for the world to settle. He kept stroking inside her, their gazes locked, except for when their mouths met, or his lips touched her face. Or when she did the same, her hands moving over him.

No words exchanged, but so much said. She was glad she’d strung that key on her necklace. She had him give her his wrists, and removed the cuffs. He seemed tense when she examined the damage, but she wasn’t going to allow any backward steps.

She put her mouth upon them again, making him accept her gentleness. When she at last released him, he pushed open the skylight so the night air could cool them, and lay next to her. She shifted to her hip to face him.

He fingered her necklace, the key on it. “You should keep the key on it,” he said.

“As a reminder of tonight?”

“Maybe.”

They were quiet for a while, and then he spoke again, his gaze holding hers. “If the worst happens to me, I’ll still come home to you, Cyn. You’ll feel it. In your heart and soul.”

“You assume I have either of those.”

“I know you do. Because you’ve given them to me, too.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

It was the morning he was supposed to take Cyn to the airport. That was enough reason to consider the day shit, but the text he’d just received confirmed it.

Mick sat down on the folding chair by the fire pit to re-read the brief paragraph. Well, fuck.