Ignited
Page 22
As I hoped, he almost laughed. Almost. But he did calm down. He drew in a breath, then another. After a moment, he pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at me. “Do you think what I need makes me proud?” he asked softly. “It’s not a road you want to walk with me, Kat.”
“Dammit, Cole, don’t you dare tell me what I want or don’t want. You don’t have a clue about what I need, and you sure as hell don’t know my boundaries.”
“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But I know my own.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.
With a sigh, he cupped my chin, his expression so sad I wanted to weep. “It means that you’re a hard limit for me, blondie. And that’s just the way it is.”
ten
“Fine,” I snapped. “But stay away from me, Cole. Stay away from me and my dad. And while you’re at it, stay out of my life.”
I turned and stormed toward his door. He caught my arm and yanked me back. “I’ll help you with your dad. But not the rest.”
“No. This isn’t a negotiation. I told you what I want. You don’t want to help on my terms, then don’t help. But right now, I want you to get out of my way.”
“Why?”
“Because I already owed you for the employment verification. I’m tired of owing you, Cole. I’m tired of owing you and not being able to pay the way I want to.”
“I’m not tossing your dad to the wolves.”
“Then fuck me,” I said.
“Kat.”
“Hard limit? That’s bullshit. Do not tell me what I do and do not want and what I can and cannot have. I’m a grown woman, damn you. I know what I want, what I need. But you’re so goddamned hardheaded.”
I was stalking toward him now, and I was supremely pissed off. So was he. I could see the fire in his eyes. Cole wasn’t defied frequently. I wasn’t sure he quite knew what to do with me.
“How do I convince you that you don’t scare me? This?” I grabbed my shirt by the hem and ripped it up over my head. I tossed it aside. “This?” The bra went next, and as soon as I’d dropped it on the floor I grabbed his hand and tugged so that I was standing right there—right in front of him.
Before he could think or protest, I cupped his hands on my breasts, and as he sucked in air through his teeth, I let go so I could reach down and unbutton my shorts. I tugged the zipper down, shimmied out of the damn things, and then hooked my thumbs in the band of my tiny lace thong.
“No,” Cole said, closing one of his hands over mine.
I aimed a look of pure defiance right back at him, then kept right on going.
He grabbed my hand, then pulled me hard toward him so that I slammed against his chest. I gasped, then found myself breathing hard into the small indentation at the base of his throat.
“I’ll do it.” His mouth was at my ear, and he growled out the words in time with his action so that I heard the firm, no-nonsense tone of his voice playing melody to the brutal ripping of material as he tore the lace right off my body, rendering me completely naked, desperately hot, and utterly open for him.
“Cole!” I cried out, but he silenced me with his mouth firm over mine. But this was no sensual kiss. It was brutal, demanding. Hot.
As his tongue and teeth destroyed my mouth, his hands slid down my arms to find my wrists. He closed his hands around them, then forced them behind my back.
I winced from the awkward position.
“Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head. It did hurt—just a bit—but I damn well wasn’t going to tell him that.
He tightened his grip, forcing the angle even more and making me cry out—because this did hurt—but I liked it. I liked being at his mercy. I liked knowing that I was under his control. And I especially liked what I realized he was doing with my now-destroyed panties—twining them around my hands and wrists to bind my arms behind my back.
He led me to the couch, then had me bend over the arm so that I was facing the seat cushion. He bent over me, his sweats brushing my bare bottom and his chest grazing my back. He nipped my ear with his teeth even as he thrust a finger deep inside me.
I wasn’t expecting it, and I cried out in both surprise and pleasure. I was wet—god, had I ever been wetter?—and my body clenched greedily around him, wanting so much more. Wanting everything I could force him to give me.
“What if I told you I wanted to hurt you?” He pulled the finger out, then thrust in again—hard—this time with two fingers, then again with three. And each time I pulled the sensation tight around me, a welcome blanket, because this was what I wanted, to let go, to be free, to be his.
“What if I told you it got me hard? And that sometimes I just lose my grip? There are loads of shit I have to deal with, Kat, and you don’t need any more crap in your life.”
“But I need you,” I murmured.
“What would you do,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard me, “if I told you all that? If I said that I got off on the pain. That I like it. That I need it. Would you finally get it through your thick skull that you’re in over your head with me? Would you finally run?”
“No,” I whispered, breathing hard. “I’d beg. I’d beg you to use me. To hurt me. To do whatever you want to me.” I tilted my head so that I could see a little bit of him. “You make me feel, Cole. And oh, god, I want to feel more.”
His weight pressing on my back lessened a little. “What the hell did you say?”
“I mean it, Cole. I’ve never—”
“Done this?”
“No. I mean, yes. I’ve never done this. But I’ve never—” I drew in a breath. Considering he had me naked over the side of a couch with my ass in the air, I was being ridiculously prudish and shy with my words. “I’ve never been this turned on. That’s what I wanted to say.”
Gentle hands closed around my waist as he helped me stand. Then he moved to the sofa, sat properly, and tugged me down as well so that I was straddling him, my knees on the cushions on either side of him, and my sex completely open to him.
He took full advantage of the position, and thrust three fingers inside of me. “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me how you feel.”
“Aroused,” I said.
“No—ride me while you talk.”
“I—what?”
The hand that wasn’t twisting lazily inside me was on my waist, and in demonstration it eased me up and then back down again so that I was fucking his fingers. “I don’t think I can do this with my hands tied.”
“You’ll do that and more,” he promised. “Right now, I want you to tell me.”
I lifted myself, my thigh muscles straining a bit as it had been a while since I’d had a decent workout. But it was worth it. I sank deep on him, hard, and he thrust upward each time I pistoned down, driving himself deeper and deeper inside me. He was filling me, and the sensation was magnificent.
And that, coupled with the brush of his hand against my clit, had my whole body tingling with promise. And, yes, with the hope that maybe—just maybe—I would actually explode in Cole’s arms tonight.
He reached out and twisted my nipple hard, an interesting touch that had me gasping as a billion electrical sparks seemed to skitter all over my body to finally gather at my clit, taking me closer—so very much closer.
“Dammit, Cole, don’t you dare tell me what I want or don’t want. You don’t have a clue about what I need, and you sure as hell don’t know my boundaries.”
“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But I know my own.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.
With a sigh, he cupped my chin, his expression so sad I wanted to weep. “It means that you’re a hard limit for me, blondie. And that’s just the way it is.”
ten
“Fine,” I snapped. “But stay away from me, Cole. Stay away from me and my dad. And while you’re at it, stay out of my life.”
I turned and stormed toward his door. He caught my arm and yanked me back. “I’ll help you with your dad. But not the rest.”
“No. This isn’t a negotiation. I told you what I want. You don’t want to help on my terms, then don’t help. But right now, I want you to get out of my way.”
“Why?”
“Because I already owed you for the employment verification. I’m tired of owing you, Cole. I’m tired of owing you and not being able to pay the way I want to.”
“I’m not tossing your dad to the wolves.”
“Then fuck me,” I said.
“Kat.”
“Hard limit? That’s bullshit. Do not tell me what I do and do not want and what I can and cannot have. I’m a grown woman, damn you. I know what I want, what I need. But you’re so goddamned hardheaded.”
I was stalking toward him now, and I was supremely pissed off. So was he. I could see the fire in his eyes. Cole wasn’t defied frequently. I wasn’t sure he quite knew what to do with me.
“How do I convince you that you don’t scare me? This?” I grabbed my shirt by the hem and ripped it up over my head. I tossed it aside. “This?” The bra went next, and as soon as I’d dropped it on the floor I grabbed his hand and tugged so that I was standing right there—right in front of him.
Before he could think or protest, I cupped his hands on my breasts, and as he sucked in air through his teeth, I let go so I could reach down and unbutton my shorts. I tugged the zipper down, shimmied out of the damn things, and then hooked my thumbs in the band of my tiny lace thong.
“No,” Cole said, closing one of his hands over mine.
I aimed a look of pure defiance right back at him, then kept right on going.
He grabbed my hand, then pulled me hard toward him so that I slammed against his chest. I gasped, then found myself breathing hard into the small indentation at the base of his throat.
“I’ll do it.” His mouth was at my ear, and he growled out the words in time with his action so that I heard the firm, no-nonsense tone of his voice playing melody to the brutal ripping of material as he tore the lace right off my body, rendering me completely naked, desperately hot, and utterly open for him.
“Cole!” I cried out, but he silenced me with his mouth firm over mine. But this was no sensual kiss. It was brutal, demanding. Hot.
As his tongue and teeth destroyed my mouth, his hands slid down my arms to find my wrists. He closed his hands around them, then forced them behind my back.
I winced from the awkward position.
“Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head. It did hurt—just a bit—but I damn well wasn’t going to tell him that.
He tightened his grip, forcing the angle even more and making me cry out—because this did hurt—but I liked it. I liked being at his mercy. I liked knowing that I was under his control. And I especially liked what I realized he was doing with my now-destroyed panties—twining them around my hands and wrists to bind my arms behind my back.
He led me to the couch, then had me bend over the arm so that I was facing the seat cushion. He bent over me, his sweats brushing my bare bottom and his chest grazing my back. He nipped my ear with his teeth even as he thrust a finger deep inside me.
I wasn’t expecting it, and I cried out in both surprise and pleasure. I was wet—god, had I ever been wetter?—and my body clenched greedily around him, wanting so much more. Wanting everything I could force him to give me.
“What if I told you I wanted to hurt you?” He pulled the finger out, then thrust in again—hard—this time with two fingers, then again with three. And each time I pulled the sensation tight around me, a welcome blanket, because this was what I wanted, to let go, to be free, to be his.
“What if I told you it got me hard? And that sometimes I just lose my grip? There are loads of shit I have to deal with, Kat, and you don’t need any more crap in your life.”
“But I need you,” I murmured.
“What would you do,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard me, “if I told you all that? If I said that I got off on the pain. That I like it. That I need it. Would you finally get it through your thick skull that you’re in over your head with me? Would you finally run?”
“No,” I whispered, breathing hard. “I’d beg. I’d beg you to use me. To hurt me. To do whatever you want to me.” I tilted my head so that I could see a little bit of him. “You make me feel, Cole. And oh, god, I want to feel more.”
His weight pressing on my back lessened a little. “What the hell did you say?”
“I mean it, Cole. I’ve never—”
“Done this?”
“No. I mean, yes. I’ve never done this. But I’ve never—” I drew in a breath. Considering he had me naked over the side of a couch with my ass in the air, I was being ridiculously prudish and shy with my words. “I’ve never been this turned on. That’s what I wanted to say.”
Gentle hands closed around my waist as he helped me stand. Then he moved to the sofa, sat properly, and tugged me down as well so that I was straddling him, my knees on the cushions on either side of him, and my sex completely open to him.
He took full advantage of the position, and thrust three fingers inside of me. “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me how you feel.”
“Aroused,” I said.
“No—ride me while you talk.”
“I—what?”
The hand that wasn’t twisting lazily inside me was on my waist, and in demonstration it eased me up and then back down again so that I was fucking his fingers. “I don’t think I can do this with my hands tied.”
“You’ll do that and more,” he promised. “Right now, I want you to tell me.”
I lifted myself, my thigh muscles straining a bit as it had been a while since I’d had a decent workout. But it was worth it. I sank deep on him, hard, and he thrust upward each time I pistoned down, driving himself deeper and deeper inside me. He was filling me, and the sensation was magnificent.
And that, coupled with the brush of his hand against my clit, had my whole body tingling with promise. And, yes, with the hope that maybe—just maybe—I would actually explode in Cole’s arms tonight.
He reached out and twisted my nipple hard, an interesting touch that had me gasping as a billion electrical sparks seemed to skitter all over my body to finally gather at my clit, taking me closer—so very much closer.
