Satisfaction Guaranteed

Chapter 11

Ethan licked his lips as if he was savoring her taste. “I don’t agree.”

“That’s too bad because I’m the one in control.”

“Are you? You might be in charge, baby, but unless this old boy’s eyes deceive him, you are out of control.”

She sat up, pretending not to notice the way he flexed his muscles under her highly sensitized flesh. “Maybe you need to get your eyes checked.”

“My vision is twenty-ten, baby. Maybe you need to get a condom out of the drawer and get me ready.”

“We’re a long way from that.”

He pushed up against her and she couldn’t stifle a moan. His smile was pure predatory male. “Sweetheart, you need it as much as I do.”

“Do I?” she asked breathlessly.

“Yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “But this must be the place where you deny it.”

“I’m not denying anything.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Maybe myself.” But she wasn’t denying she wanted him. Only that she would give in…for now.

“And me. That’s two pretty big things.”

She reached behind herself and gripped his hardness, or tried to. She couldn’t quite get her fingers around him and that knowledge sent shivers arcing through her.

“Yes, very big,” she said in a throaty voice she’d never used before.

He laughed, but the sound choked off on a deep groan as she squeezed the pulsing flesh in her hand.

“Much more of that and I’ll go off like a rocket.”

“Would that bother you?”

“To come before you?”

“Yes.”

“I’d rather be inside you, but, Beth…you’ve been teasing me with that sweet body for so long, there’s no way one time is going to be enough. Or even two…I figure tomorrow morning we’re both going to be a little sore.”

“But sated,” she said on an approving sigh.

“For a while at least.”

She grinned, liking the sound of that, and let go. She wasn’t ready for him to come yet. She pressed both hands against his chest again. “There are so many ways I’ve fantasized about touching you. I want to do them all.”

“Go for it, baby. I’m all yours.”

She cast a significant look to his bound hands. “I know.” Rocking herself against him, she brushed her fingertips through the light dusting of hair on his chest. “Some extreme sportsmen shave here.”

“Some shave their whole bodies.” He made a face that showed his distaste at the idea. “I don’t.”

“I could tell,” she mocked.

“Smart aleck.”

She circled his nipples with her fingertips. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don’t you shave? I thought it was supposed to make you faster…more competitive.” She liked the hair on his chest. It excited her…it was so very male, but she knew he took his extreme sports seriously, too.

“Besides the fact there are very few sports that body hair can make any real competitive difference to, baby, I’m from Texas.”

“What does where you are from have to do with it?”

“You ever seen a cowboy with a shaved chest?”

“I’ve never seen a real-life cowboy, period.” She looked around his room, then back at him and smiled. “Except you.”

“Trust me, then. Cowboys don’t shave their bodies.”

“Or wax?”

He shuddered. “Or wax.”

“Not manly enough?” she teased.

“Real men do not wax,” he growled.

She kept tracing over his skin and he moved restlessly under her. “Do real men like having their nipples touched?”

“You can touch me anywhere you like and it will pleasure me.”

“Good.” But she didn’t touch the hard little points. Not yet. She’d fantasized so many times about this that she wasn’t going to let it go too fast. She brushed a jagged scar that looked like a starburst on his right shoulder. “Where did you get this?”

“On assignment.”

“You can tell me details. I have clearance.”

He shook his head, his stomach muscles bunching under her. “I don’t talk about work when I’m in bed with a beautiful woman.” His muscles moved again, caressing her.

He was so sneaky. He really did think he could keep control even bound. And she loved that.

“Is that a hard-and-fast rule?” she asked, running her hand over the scar, noticing how sensitive he was there.

“Yes,” he ground out.

“Hmmm…” She went back to his nipples, lightly scraping them with her nails. “Maybe I can make you break it.”

He groaned as she went back and forth, back and forth over the rigid little nubs. “Why would you want to?”

“Because I want to know.”

“You curious about me, Beth?”

“You told me I was supposed to be. Remember?”

“Yeah.” He thought for a second. “I’ll tell you. For another kiss.”

“Okay…first you tell and then I kiss.”

“Deal.”

So, he told her. He’d been shot when taking down the enemy. It had happened before she started working for TGP. She’d read numerous accounts with similar scenarios, but hearing it from his lips affected her emotions in a way they never had been reading over and filing reports for the other agents. When he was done, she leaned down and kissed the scar, running her lips and tongue along each jagged line until she’d bathed the old wound completely with her sensuality.

“I thought you were going to kiss my lips,” he said on a ragged breath.

She smiled and met his hot green eyes. “Did I say I was going to kiss your lips?”

“No.”

“Then I kept my side of the bargain.”

“That you did. You’re wily, Miss Whitney. You know that?”

“I’m horny, Mr. Crane. And that is entirely your fault.”

“Do I look like I’m complaining?”

“You look edible.” She sighed as her fingers kneaded his chest like a cat and then she traced another, smaller scar near his ribs. “What about this one?”

“Same deal?”

“Same deal.”

“A knife wound from a bar fight.”

The bar had been in France and the fight had been started by a perp trying to cover a deal gone bad.

And so it went. She asked about a mark and he told her the story. Some were from assignments. Some were from mishaps when he was doing his extreme sports. Some were from growing up on a ranch. She kissed each one after his explanation, sometimes spending a long time on the area around it. He muttered her name and a curse in a guttural voice more than once.

She even undid the restraints on one ankle so he could turn on his side and she could reach his back. He wasn’t exactly riddled with scars, but he had a sexy mole, right on his left flank and she made him tell her it was a birthmark before kissing it, too. He let her put the restraints on him again when she was done and they were both shaking with arousal and need by the time she’d pointed to a small scar near his groin.

“I got that falling off a horse.” His voice was low-pitched and filled with tension.

She brushed the almost faded scar. “I thought you could ride anything.”

“I was ten at the time.”

She leaned over until her hair brushed his thighs and balls. He hissed and bucked, causing the silky strands to caress his erection, too. She turned her head back and forth, to do it some more.

“You’re torturing me, woman.”

“That’s the idea,” she whispered against his groin.

He laughed, having heard her. “You’re damn good at it.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” Her lips closed over the old scar and her tongue darted out to taste. She sucked, giving him a love bite right there.

His hips flexed upward. “Damn it, baby. Put your mouth on me.”

“My mouth is on you.” And he tasted so good, musky, male and hot.

“I need your mouth on my cock. Now, Beth.”

She sat up, straddling one of his strong legs, her feminine flesh clenching at the sensation of his hairy thigh against the smooth skin of her inner thighs. His muscles flexed against her. He had incredible definition and control. No wonder he was so good at his extreme sports. She shuddered from the intense pleasure of the subtle caress and couldn’t help rubbing herself against him, just a little.

A harsh sound came from his throat. “You are killing me.”

“You’ve said that before, but you’re still alive.”

“Edging toward insanity.”

She cupped his sac very gently. “I’m not trying to drive you crazy.”

“Then Heaven help me if you ever did.”

She laughed, her whole body awash with sensation, but her humor triggered by his obvious sexual frustration. She squeezed oh so carefully and caressed his length with her other hand. “You are so soft here.”

“That’s not the word I would use to describe it.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he said gutturally.

She moved her hand up and down the entire length of his shaft. Once. Twice. Three times. He bowed beneath her again, making his thigh grind against her tender flesh. She couldn’t stand the restriction of her panties anymore and scrambled out of them before resuming her position.

“The bra, too,” he demanded in a voice that made her insides quiver with sensual delight.

“And if I don’t want to?”

“Do it anyway.”

He was tied to the bed, at her mercy, and yet she felt an overwhelming urge to do as he said. Maybe because her breasts were aching and swollen and she wanted the sensation of his scorching gaze on them as much as he wanted to look. Or maybe because a primal part of her wanted to submit. Regardless of why, she undid her bra and peeled it from her body slowly while he watched in hungry fascination.

“You have a gorgeous rack, Beth.”

Despite the level of her arousal, laughter burst out of her. “Rack?”

“Would you rather I said tits?” he asked, one corner of his mouth tipped in a sexy smile, but his voice was strained.

She thought about it. “Uh…no.”

“Boobs? Hooters? Cans? Boobies? Melons? Gozangas?”

She shook her head, giggling. “They’re my breasts.”

“They’re a work of art.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

“That’s a mild word for my reaction to seeing them.”

Looking at the way his penis bobbed in angry arousal, she had to agree.

“Touch your nipples…like you did when we were on the phone last night. I want to see you do it.”

“You’re getting awfully demanding. First you wanted me to go down on you, then take off my bra…and now you’re demanding I touch myself.” She hadn’t taken him in her mouth, but she had taken off her bra.

“Do it.”

Her inner walls spasmed at the command in his voice. “Choose.”

“What?”

“Either I touch myself or I take you in my mouth.”

“You’ll do whichever one I want…to my specifications?”

That wasn’t what she’d said, but it made her get wetter to think about, so she nodded.

“Touch yourself.”

She jolted. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t asked her for the blow job. Maybe she wasn’t affecting him as much as she thought. Only his hard flesh looked ready to explode, pre-cum glistening on his tip in enticing wetness. Could he really want to see her touch herself more than he wanted to be touched? Or was he trying to wrest control from her despite his bonds?

If that was the case, she was just going to have to make watching her as exciting as experiencing her mouth.

She cupped her breasts, lifting them and moaning softly as she did so. “Like this?”

“Yes. Knead that pretty flesh.”

She kneaded, excitement spearing straight from her aching nipples to her throbbing clitoris. “Do you want me to touch my nipples?”

“Yes.”

She did, playing with them like she had the night before, rolling them between her fingertips and pulling on them as she rode his thigh with increasingly urgent movements. He helped her, pressing upward and moving his leg side to side. She was losing the momentum of her seduction, but she couldn’t make herself care.

“Now touch your clit, but don’t stop playing with your breast with the other hand.”

“I didn’t say I would touch myself there,” she panted.

“You didn’t specify where-only that you would do it to my specifications and I just specified.”

How could she not have noticed such a glaring omission? She shook her head, trying to clear it, but Ethan misunderstood and frowned.

“You a welsher, baby?”

“No.”

“Then touch yourself.”

She wanted to, so why deny him?

So, she did, sliding her hand into the nest of curls at the juncture of her thighs until one fingertip encountered her sweet spot. Pleasure pulsed at the touch.

“That looks so hot, baby…just like I pictured it last night on the phone.”

And suddenly she needed the same thing. She didn’t know why he wanted to see her as she’d been last night, but she needed to see him touch himself to complete what they’d done. To make it real and not just another fantasy that he’d cooperated with creating. The need was a driving compulsion she didn’t even attempt to stem.

She leaned up and unlatched one of the wrist cuffs. “Show me, too.”

He required no second urging, but wrapped his long fingers around his shaft and stroked himself. “You’re going to make me come this way.”

“Like you said earlier, we have all night for other stuff.” But she really didn’t want their first climax to be this way…she just wanted to drive them both closer to the edge.

His hand came up and she saw that he was going to brush it over his head and she didn’t want him to wipe away the moisture there. She wanted to taste it.

She swept down and took his head into her mouth without any warning.

He shouted while she swirled her tongue over his essence, reveling in the flavor that was unique to him alone. His hand clamped in her hair and he thrust upward. She let him press himself farther into her mouth, not caring when he hit the back of her throat. But he felt it and pulled back, muttering a desperate apology while his hand fell away to fist against the comforter.

He was out of control. If he wasn’t restrained, he’d have her under him or pulled on top of him in a heartbeat. That certainty pushed her own arousal higher until she was teetering on the brink of orgasm. One touch, delivered right, and she would go over, but she was careful not to give herself the stimulation. She needed it to come from him.

She pulled her mouth away with a pop and scrambled across the bed to the nightstand. She yanked the drawer open and scrabbled for a condom before returning to him and ripping the packet open. She put it on him carefully, her hands shaking so much she was afraid she was going to tear it. But she didn’t and he urged her on with guttural pleas and compliments.

When she was done, she straddled him, but held herself above his rock hard erection. “Do you want me?”

“Yes.”

“Enough?”

His free hand clamped her thigh and he tugged, but she managed to stay up on her haunches.

“Enough?” she demanded again.

“Too much,” he bit back.

Then she slid down onto him, pressing his head into her opening and immediately rocking for deeper penetration. But he was big and she was swollen, more swollen than she’d ever been. It wasn’t easy. She was wetter than she’d ever been, too, and that helped, but she felt stretched and filled and he wasn’t even all the way inside yet.

“Oh, yeah. Oh, baby…that’s so good.” He thrust upward, pushing himself deeper inside and putting her so-called dominance into question.

And again…she loved it. She’d known it would be like this. He was everything she had wanted. A man who was strong enough to allow her to bind him, to touch him, to tease and torment him, but too strong to be dominated by her. No matter what the circumstances.

But she wasn’t about to cede all control to him. She continued her rocking movements until he was seated fully inside her and then she stopped, adjusting to the fullness, to sensitive tissues stretched to capacity.

“Don’t stop, baby,” he pleaded.

“It’s so much,” she gasped.

“But not too much. You can handle me, Beth.”

“Yes.” She was determined to, but she felt like she was going to die from pleasure. Her body demanded more and she started to move, riding him, finding a rhythm and angle that maximized stimulation to her clitoris.

“That’s right, Beth. Just like that. Ride me hard!” He bucked under her, forcing her to match their body movements to stay seated.

And she did ride him hard, letting his penis pound into her with passionate force.

His free hand was all over her, touching her, urging her on and she didn’t mind because he made her feel so good. The pleasure was building inside, sharp and urgent. Their bodies were both covered by a sheen of sweat and both their breathing was labored.

“Come with me, Ethan,” she demanded. “I want to feel you lose control. Come with me now!”

And he did. They climaxed together, his pulses feeding her convulsions and her inner muscles milking him to greater heights until they both cried out and collapsed from the surfeit of pleasure.

His chest moved with laborious breaths and she thought she must be heavy…should probably help him dispose of the condom…but she couldn’t make herself move. His body stretched under hers and all she could think was that felt nice. Then both his hands were free to rub her back and cuddle her close.

“Should undo your ankles,” she slurred against his chest.

“In a minute, Sunshine. For now…just let me bask.”

“Bask?” she asked drowsily.

“In pleasure. It was so damn good.”

“Yes.”