The Marriage Trap

Page 30

A strangled laugh escaped her lips, but it lacked humor. “Tell me you’re joking. Can’t we just have regular sex?”
“Yes. But I want more with you. I want to give you so much pleasure you explode. I want you to be able to let go, on your own terms. I’m asking you to trust me enough to surrender your control for tonight. If you get uncomfortable, tell me to stop and I will. Will you do this for me?”
She sat up and stared at the ties, biting down hard on her lip. “I don’t know if I can give up control,” she admitted.
“I think you can.” A smile touched his lips as he dangled the ties out in a teasing gesture meant to calm her nerves. “We can have some fun. I always dreamed of tying up my wife. You can make my fantasy come true.”
He waited patiently while she thought the scenario out. Emotions warred and fought for dominance. Finally, she nodded. “I’ll try.” She blew out an annoyed breath. “But only because you have some bondage fetish I think you need to get out of your system.”
He laughed. With deliberate motions, he tied her wrists together over her head with one sash, and with the other, he wrapped them around the post by the headboard. She tugged, and he made sure there was plenty of slack so she wouldn’t feel trapped. Just enough to allow her the freedom to let go. His arousal simmered at her naked body.
“Now what?” She blew the hair out of her face and frowned.
Michael grinned at her cranky expression, straddled her, and looked down.
All humor left him in a rush. She was gorgeous—all sleek curves and muscles. Slowly, he leaned over and kissed her deep, plunging into her mouth, thrusting his tongue in and out in a precursor of what he planned to do to her. When he released her lips, she breathed hard, and her eyes misted with arousal.
He took his time. He nibbled and sucked on her nipples and let his hands drift over her belly, her hips, then slide behind her to cup her ass and spread her legs wider. His fingers paused on the nub begging for his touch, then plunged into her channel.
She cried out and pulled at her ties. He pushed her higher, using two fingers to sink into her wet heat while his thumb flicked at her clit. Every muscle beneath him quivered with anticipation, and she writhed on the bed.
“Damn you, untie me! I want to touch you.”
“Not yet, cara. I am having too much fun with my fantasy.”
She cursed him and he laughed, dipped his head, and tasted her.
She came hard. Her scream ripped from her throat, and he allowed her to ride out the wave. When she surfaced, her flushed skin trembled helplessly underneath him. He pushed her thighs wider apart and drove his penis in with one solid thrust.
He gritted his teeth and prayed for control. Her channel clenched him in a tight vise, and spasms shook her body like ministorms. He filled her completely and pure pleasure exploded within him. Slowly, he pressed her down into the mattress.
“Michael.” Her glazed eyes suddenly shone in panic, and she bucked beneath him, tugging at the restraints with a frantic motion. “Don’t.”
The rawness of her fear made him second-guess himself. “Look at me, mia amore. Look into my eyes and see who I am.”
Her focus sharpened as she gazed deeply into his eyes. Her pupils dilated in recognition, and inch by inch her muscles relaxed, allowing him further access. Tears swam in her eyes. He kissed her tenderly, his thumb wiping away the tear that trickled down her face.
“I love you, Maggie. It’s never been Alexa, and it never will be. I’m in love with you.”
He moved. Each motion claimed her for himself, told her of his emotions and need for her to belong to him. The last of the fight eased from her body and she matched him thrust for thrust, her heels digging into his back as they climbed higher and higher. She exploded beneath him and he let himself go. The unbearable pleasure wrecked him, overtook him, and threw him over the edge. When the storm finally passed, Michael realized his life would never be the same.
And he didn’t want it to be.
• • •
He loved her.
The words echoed over and over in her head. Sometimes as beautiful as opera. Sometimes with a cackle of merriment and mocking. Either way, she needed to deal with it, but Lord knows she was too freaked out at the moment.
She flexed her now freed hands. He held her with more tenderness than a man had ever shown her. His lovemaking seemed less about kink and more about giving her everything, and asking for the same.
She swallowed past the words bubbling up on her lips and remained silent. Just three simple words, but they were the most difficult words she could think of to utter. His sweat-dampened skin pressed against hers, solid and real. He’d given her a gift that had no price. Trust. Somehow, with her being tied up and forced to surrender, she learned to trust another human being.
He dropped a gentle kiss to her tangled hair. “Thank you for giving me your trust. I want to know all of you, cara, but I can wait.”
His patience rattled her foundation. Why did he seek more than her body? His confession he never loved Alexa rang clean and true. Perhaps she’d always sensed the truth but didn’t want to lose her final obstacle. Now there was nowhere to run, yet she couldn’t say those three words he needed.
Maggie closed her eyes and gave him the only other gift she had left. Her truth.
“I was sixteen. I was crushing majorly on the cliché of all clichés—the quarterback of the football team. Of course, he barely noticed me, but I did all the usual girly things to gain his attention. One day, he came over and talked to me. Days later, he asked me out. I was giddy and believed we’d finally be boyfriend and girlfriend.”
His hand stopped stroking her hair. Slowly, he turned to face her in bed. She felt his gaze caress her, but she stared up at the ceiling as the events unwound before her vision.
“I made myself up with lots of makeup. Short skirt, lots of cleavage showing the little I had. I had no one to chaperone me at the time, so I came and went as I pleased with no rules.
“He took me to a movie, then back to the school at the football field. We sat on the grass and looked up at the moon. I was so happy. Until he pushed me down on the ground and stuck his hand up my shirt. You see, I was all talk and no action. I’d never dated a guy before, never even had a crazy make-out session. I let him do some things because I thought it was the right thing to do. Until he pulled down my skirt.”
She gulped a breath, and his hand clasped hers. He waited in silence as she struggled, but his warmth slowly seeped into her skin. “He raped me. Afterward, he rolled away, stood up, and said he was disappointed. Told me I’d been looking for it with my clothes and my attitude. That if I told anyone, I’d be the laughingstock of the school. I got my clothes on and he took me home. When he got to my house, he told me thanks for the good time. Let’s do it again.
“I got out of the car and my mother was watching television in the living room. I went straight over to her and told her the whole story.”
The events of that horrible night rolled over her, but this time, someone lay beside her. This time, someone cared enough to listen.
“My mother laughed and told me I got what I asked for. Said to get on birth control, get smarter, and deal with it. Then she walked away from me.” Maggie ripped her gaze away from the blank ceiling and turned toward him. “I didn’t know what to do. Felt like I could go insane. I took the next few days off, then went back to school. And when I passed him in the hall, I just nodded a hello. The pregnancy test came back negative. I got on birth control. And suddenly, I realized I had two paths before me and I needed to choose.
“I could hide my sexuality behind baggy clothes and never feel comfortable being physical with a boy again. Or I could push past it and own my own stuff. Somehow, I realized I could get pleasure from sex, but it would be up to me to set the terms. I’d be sure something like that would never happen again.”
Her heart pounded on the verge of an attack. “I decided I wouldn’t let that bastard take away who I was. I dressed the way I wanted, and I controlled who I had sex with from that time on. When I wanted, where I wanted, and how I wanted. But sometimes, when a man is on top of me, something flashes back to that time and I panic. I hate it, but I can’t seem to control that part of my memory. Until now.”
Michael reached out and tucked her head against his chest. Strength and heat and safety wound its way through her with a seamless grace that took her breath away. “I am so sorry, cara. I didn’t know. If I had, I wouldn’t have pushed in such a way.”
She shook her head hard. “No, I’m glad you did. Now, I’m not afraid.”
He sucked in a breath, and she realized he trembled beneath her. Slowly, she raised her head to look into his face.
Fierce pride and raw fury shimmered in his eyes. His hands were as gentle as a butterfly as he stroked the hair back from her face. “For someone to hurt you like this makes me question what is fair and right in this world. But you, mia amore, took such an event and gained strength. You made your life on your own terms with no one to help. You humble me.”
She bit her lip and lowered her head back on his chest. His words echoed in the silence of the room and exploded the last brick of the wall guarding her heart. He didn’t comment on the tear that fell upon his chest.
That made Maggie love him even more.
Chapter Twelve
Two days later, Maggie lounged on the back terrace, sipping a glass of wine and stroking Dante. He lay on the table, basking in the heat of the sun, grunting softly. He flipped over and exposed his massive belly, his favorite place to be scratched. Every time her hand got tired she’d stop, but then he’d hiss at her in pure menace that she now knew was completely fake.
“You’re such a drama king,” she admonished.
Those huge green eyes stared at her with implacable demand and crankiness. She let out an impatient sigh and put down her glass. She raked her nails lightly over his belly and he went back to purring so loudly he sounded like a chain saw. “Fine, fine, here, happy now?”
God, she hated cats.
Of course, like Dante, she was a big fat liar. This feline had worked its way under her skin. A cheap thrill skated through her that the stray wouldn’t let anyone touch him except for her. In a wacky way, she felt as if they belonged to each other. Two stray, bad-ass loners who didn’t know how to handle people.
What was she going to do?
Michael loved her. Ever since his shattering admission and her shattering confession, they’d silently agreed not to discuss the topic further. Maggie wanted to believe him, craved the ability to say the words back, but something held her prisoner.
Her past.
The sunlight struck the two-carat diamond on her ring finger and shimmered in mockery.
She needed to make a decision soon. She agreed to stay a few days longer while they made sure Mama Conte was okay, and they could get Venezia’s wedding plans solidified.
She had never told anyone except her mother about the rape. Her mother’s betrayal killed a trust deep inside of her, and Michael brought it back to life. Goose bumps lifted her arms at the memory of his hands and mouth and tongue on every part of her body without the ability to do anything but surrender. Damn, now she knew why that bondage stuff was so widely read.