Two weeks later
Dallas unlocked the side rear door of the pub and let himself inside. He took the stairs to the third floor apartment two at a time, humming softly under his breath. The scent of coffee greeted him as he opened the door.
“Patrick, what are you doing here?”
“We were late closing up last night, and I didn’t think you’d mind if I crashed here.”
“Thanks for covering for me.” Dallas poured himself a coffee. “I owe you.”
“Yes, you do.” Patrick stretched and let out a loud yawn. “I’m keeping score.”
Dallas grinned. “No problem.”
“Maria came in last night. She was looking for you.”
Dallas froze, his mug halfway to his mouth. “What did she want? Did she say?”
Patrick slanted him a look. “I got the feeling she wanted to hook up again.”
“Not gonna happen,” Dallas said without hesitation. “I’m not on the market.”
Patrick let out a hard breath. “Good. She’s bad news.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That you didn’t work as much these days and you had someone.” Patrick paused, shrugged. “She laughed when I said you had someone. She’s attractive.”
“So is L—” Dallas clamped his mouth shut.
“Hah. I nearly got her name out of you. Why the secrecy? When do I get to meet Blondie?”
Dallas ignored the teasing. “Do you think Maria will come back?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. At least I’ll be prepared for seeing her.”
“That’s what I figured,” Patrick said. “She left with some guy I hadn’t seen before.”
“Thanks.” Dallas took a sip of his coffee. “I came in early to catch up on paperwork. I need to get some figures to the accountant.”
“Rather you than me,” Patrick said. “Are you going to take Blondie to Ma’s birthday party? I can’t believe their six-month holiday is almost over.”
“Me neither.” Dallas’s gut twisted because he’d considered taking Laura. He was proud of her, but he didn’t want to spoil the day for his mother either. “No, she can’t come. She has something else on.”
“Another time,” Patrick said.
“Yeah. Thanks for last night.”
“Anytime. Catch ya.” And with a wink, his brother loped from the apartment.
Dallas frowned after him, sipped his coffee.
Maria was back.
Dallas thought about her and didn’t feel anything except irritation. He’d have to face her, tell her in person he wasn’t interested in resuming their relationship. She’d cheated on him, ditched him for someone else when it suited her capricious nature. Even if he wasn’t with Laura, he’d be stupid to entertain ideas of hooking up again with Maria.
Dallas completed his paperwork and wandered down to the bar. They were shorthanded, and he spent the rest of his morning hauling crates from the cellar and pouring beers. Thankfully, a part-timer arrived after lunch because they got slammed in the afternoon.
A roar went up from the customers who were watching the rugby on the big screen.
“Try!” a man shouted, pumping his fist in the air.
Pool balls clacked. A boisterous group of guys in their early twenties pummeled the dart board with more enthusiasm than skill.
“Two beers and a vodka tonic,” a bald man said.
Dallas poured the beers and handed over the drinks, taking a fifty-dollar note in return. He offered the change and moved to the next customer. Repeat and rinse. As the afternoon passed, the rugby enthusiasts who’d braved the rain to watch the match live started arriving at the bar. Euphoric chatter and customers three deep at the bar battered his brain and kept his hands busy.
“We won. I can’t believe we beat the Marlins.” A Napier fan lifted his beer in salute. “To the boys. May they win again!”
Dallas rang up an order, sorted change and looked for the next customer.
“Three beers, please, Mr. Bartender.” The familiar voice made him frown, look harder and a grin burst free. Laura, dressed in a blue and gold beanie with a matching scarf wound around her neck, stood at the bar and waved money at him. Not an ounce of hoity-toity Drummond on display today.
“Hey,” he said, winking at her. “Who’s drinking the other beers?”
“I’m here with James and Steven. James rang about an upcoming function he wants me to attend. When they found out I wasn’t doing anything, they dragged me to the rugby.”
“Did you have fun?”
“I’d never been before.” Laura bubbled with her usual enthusiasm. “We did the Mexican wave and booed at the opposition. The rugby was good too. Nothing better than ogling male butts.”
“As long as mine is included.” Dallas handed her the beers and waved away her money. “No charge because you’re so pretty.” He glanced along the bar and couldn’t resist leaning over to snatch a quick kiss. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yours is my favorite,” she said and picked up the beers, giving him a sassy grin. “Later.”
He stared after her until she was lost amongst the exuberant crowd. James and Steven would look after her, but he wished he wasn’t stuck behind the bar.
Dallas took the next order, working on automatic pilot. Beers. Spirits. Glasses of wine. The odd soft drink or juice for a designated driver. Laura came up for a second round, and despite the audience, he snatched another kiss. He grinned after her before slipping back into routine.
“Jack and cola, please, lover.” The familiar throaty voice made the hair at the back of his neck prickle, and not in a good way.
“Maria. Patrick said you’d dropped by.”
“You didn’t call.”
Dallas shrugged and poured her drink. He placed it on the bar in front of her. She’d had her dark hair cut short in a pixie style. It suited the sharp angles of her face and made her blue eyes look huge. She looked well, sensuality oozing out of every pore, yet he wasn’t tempted.
She took a sip.
“You need to pay for that,” Dallas said, fighting to keep his tone level.
“Oh? You never used to charge me for drinks.”
“Times change.”
After a silent battle of wills, she pulled a ten-dollar note from her pocket.
“You don’t charge everyone,” she said, and his gut ran cold. Apparently, she’d been here for a while, scoping the territory.
“My pub. My business,” he said, slapping the change on the counter in front of her. Without another word, he moved to the next customer.
“Hi,” he heard Maria say to a man sitting at the bar. “How are you doing? Did you go to the game?”
When he turned back, Maria sat on the barstool. She spent the next hour flirting with Mr. Gullible and watching Dallas work the bar. Irritation simmered in his gut as he served her another drink, this one paid for by Mr. Gullible. What game was the woman playing? He didn’t want her, wasn’t interested. Not even tempted.
Patrick arrived, saw they were being slammed and jumped behind the bar to help.
“Take that half of the bar,” Dallas said, indicating the end where Maria perched on her stool.
“I see you have a visitor.”
“Unwanted,” Dallas said tersely.
He turned away to grab three bottles of boutique beer from the chiller. When he handed them to the customer, his gaze met Laura’s. One brown eye closed in a wink and just like that, the angst riding him dispersed. Maria didn’t matter.
Steven used his bulk to push to the bar. “We’re off now.”
“Okay. Tell Laura, I’ll be late.” Dallas poured a vodka and tonic and chucked in a slice of lemon. He set the drink on the bar for the customer and met Laura’s gaze. She nodded. Message received. She waved her cell phone in the air, and he gave a return nod, taking a few seconds to watch them leave.
His gaze darted to Maria, but she’d wandered off to play a machine. Good. Hopefully she’d received the message too. He went back to serving beers. The clusters of customers seemed never ending, but the clock crept around to closing time.
“Last orders!” he shouted.
There was a flurry of customers before they closed the bar. Despite the crowd, they didn’t have any trouble and the customers drifted out the door.
“Can we talk?” Maria asked.
“No,” Dallas said. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”
“We were good together. You owe me a few minutes at least.”
“I don’t owe you a thing. It’s time for you to leave. We’re closed.” Dallas walked away and busied himself stacking glasses in the washer.
Half an hour later, only Maria remained, loitering by the slot machine.
“What are you still doing here?” Dallas smothered a yawn and unwillingly turned to face her. He stooped to switch off the power on the machine before she dropped in more money.
“We need to talk.” She huffed out an impatient breath, the action slinging him back into the past. She made that sound every time he irritated her. Toward the end, she’d made the noise often.
“So talk,” Dallas said.
Maria sent a swift glance at Patrick, who was making no secret of his eavesdropping. “In private.”
“You can say anything you want to say in front of Patrick.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I want you back. You’re the best lover I’ve ever had.”
She had to be bloody kidding. “A relationship requires trust. I don’t trust you.” Even the length of a rugby field was standing too close to the viperous bitch.
“That little blonde girl is too young for you. You need someone older, more experienced.”
“You have too much practice, too much skill for me,” Dallas said bluntly. Blast Maria for noticing and managing to add two plus two together. She’d always had a good grasp of numbers. Maybe if he brushed aside her assumption she’d forget Laura.
The smile froze on Maria’s face, and the color surge into her cheeks told him he’d scored a hit. He didn’t feel victory. Instead, relief that he’d dodged a monumental fuckup shored his resolve. Lucky for him, he’d taken the lessons she’d forced on him to heart.
“You should leave now,” Patrick said, rounding the bar. He gripped Maria’s arm and directed her to the door.
She gave an irritable shrug, dislodging his grasp. “All right. All right. I’m going.”
Lifting his hands up in a gesture of surrender, Patrick stalked behind her and locked the door before returning to the bar. “You’ve made an enemy there.”
“I can’t believe she thought a snap of her fingers would make me come running.”
“Let’s hope she takes no as your final answer.”
“Do you think she’ll keep coming around?”
“I don’t know. She had an air of panic about her.”
Dallas swiped a cloth across the bar. “You think? I tried to ignore her.”
“Did you see the Drummond girl? The youngest one. I can’t remember her name. She was with two guys.”
Dallas stopped wiping the bar. “A Drummond? In here? You’re shittin’ me. Which one was she?”
“Perky blonde. Curvy with a sexy ass. Dressed in jeans and a Napier Kings rugby shirt.”
“Numbskull, you’ve described the majority of our female customers.” Dallas breathed out his trepidation and went back to his cleaning.
Patrick didn’t know.
“True. Personally, I prefer a redhead. Lots of fiery passion locked under the surface.”
Dallas chuckled as he was supposed to. “These days, I prefer blondes.”
“Not that blonde.”
“Do I look stupid? I wonder if she knew she was in O’Grady territory.”
“But your mystery blonde was here. Maria noticed her.”
“Maria talks crap. I don’t even know why we’re wasting time talking about her. I’m not interested nor am I stupid enough to let her crush my heart under her boots again.”
“Good to know,” Patrick said. “You sleeping at the apartment tonight?”
Dallas’s phone let out a peep, indicating an incoming text. He scanned the screen and grinned. “Nope. I have a hot blonde waiting.”
“Can I stay here?”
“Sure. Appreciate the help tonight.” Dallas scanned the bar and set aside his cleaning cloth. The kitchen staff had already left. He stacked more glasses in the washer, and searched for his remaining staff members. “Hey, Chris. Helen. You almost done?”
“This is the last of the glasses,” Chris said with a loud yawn. “Damn, my feet hurt.”
Patrick grinned and tugged on one of her red ringlets. It sprang back into place the instant he released it. “Are you sure you’re happy with your husband?”
“He likes redheads,” Dallas said.
Chris laughed. “So does my husband.”
“We’re done,” Dallas said. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” He turned back to Patrick. “You okay to lock up?”
“No prob.”
Five minutes later, Dallas was driving away from the pub, going home to Laura. Lights shone like a welcome beacon as he pulled into the driveway, and anticipation flickered through him. Down, boy.
He used his keys to open the front door and stepped into the warm. “Honey, I’m home.”
Laura appeared at the end of the passage, a welcoming smile curving her lips. Then she was running. She sprang at him, hooked her legs around his hips and gripped his shoulders for balance, laughing the entire time.
Their lips met, and something inside him turned over. A fleeting sensation of rightness and comfort before it faded, lost in the flare of passion. He backed her against the wall and deepened the contact. This. This was what he needed.
He lifted his head and grinned. “I like the welcome wagon.”
“I missed you. It’s hard seeing you and not being able to touch when I want.”
“I kissed you.”
“Not after your brother arrived,” she said with a faint air of challenge.
“I don’t want to talk about my brother.” He started for his bedroom, passing the empty spare room on the way. Boxes of books and other belongings still littered the floor. They’d have to sort out the mess. Soon.
In the bedroom, he dropped her on the mattress. She’d made the bed and put up the curtains he’d purchased earlier in the week when they’d gone shopping together. He’d thank her later. “I intend to make love to you but first…” He pulled off her slippers and jeans, and made quick work of the rest of her clothes.
“I like the way you think.” She sprawled on the bed, at ease with her nakedness. “I can’t wait to learn what happens next.”
“Hands above your head.” He reached for a drawer and pulled out a silk scarf and folded it expertly. “Close your eyes.” He waited for her to process his order, half of him expecting objections. Instead, her soft smile stole a piece of his patience. Her eyes drifted closed, and he swallowed hard, her easy trust plugging a hole in him he hadn’t realized was empty. With competent hands, he placed the scarf over her eyes and tied it securely.
His hemp ropes were under the bed. He pulled out the bag, to find them coiled as he’d left them. The ropes were familiar in his hands. Old friends. Strong. Lasting. He hoped he didn’t scare Laura with his suggestion.
He lifted her right wrist and pressed a kiss to the delicate blue veins. “Ever since I met you, I’ve wanted to see you tied to my bed.”
“And are you going to do it tonight?”
He cocked his head, interpreting her words, her body language. Intrigued. He blew out a breath. “Yes. If you’re okay with it.”
“Dallas, I trust you.” Her smile was gentle and echoed her conviction.
“Good girl.” Unable to resist, he pressed his mouth to hers, the contact fleeting and a tease when he craved real body contact. He picked up his rope and started twisting and weaving the hemp around her limbs. His moves were careful, precise, testing and checking his ties and knots to make sure they wouldn’t hurt her or cause an injury. Under and over her wrist, a quick loop and knot. He attached the rope to the wooden bed head and tested it with a tug. Right and tight. “Comfy?”
“Yes. A little cold.”
“Can’t have that.” He reached over to turn up the heat in the room. “I’m going to tie your legs now.” He paused a beat for objections, but she smiled. The act of belief made his own grin spring to prominence, and the urge to whistle took him by surprise. His cock lengthened, pressing against the fly of his jeans. “You make me want to hurry.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“This part of our relationship is about control and trust.” The impulse to hasten grabbed him by the balls. Instead, he inhaled and let his breath ease out. With methodical moves, he tied her feet, taking the same care with his procedure. Finally, he sat back on his haunches. “How’s that feel?”
“I can’t move.”
“That’s the idea. But you feel comfortable?”
“I feel fine.” She smiled again, the one that tugged at his control.
Dallas puffed out a breath. “I’m going to grab something from the kitchen. Be right back, okay?”
Laura nodded before realizing he wouldn’t see her incline of head. “All right.”
Cool air prickled across her skin as she tested the ropes. Although there was give, she was trussed like one of cook’s chickens. She was here to stay—until Dallas decided to loosen the knots.
As the minutes ticked by, a sliver of anxiety worked through her. Where was he? He’d said he was going to the kitchen. He wouldn’t leave her here. The distant ding of the microwave reassured her. At least he was still in the house. The scuff of a foot against the carpet grabbed her attention and her head turned in the direction of the sound.
“Jeez, sorry.” Dallas’s hand on her shoulder helped her shake off the remnants of her worry. “I couldn’t find what I was looking for. It took ages.”
“I was starting to wonder if you were going to leave me here.”
“Never. I don’t play games like that.” He sounded a little insulted.
“Never? Is that a rule or something?”
“My rule. If I intend to leave you alone, I’ll inform you where I’ll be, how long you’ll be on your own.” His voice still rang with a tinge of affront.
“A momentary lapse on my part. Lying here like a chicken in a truss tends to play with one’s mind, especially since I’m blindfolded.” And it was true. Damn if she’d apologize when they were still learning about each other, when she was still learning the rules of this game. No, not a game. That was the wrong word to describe their relationship.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to upset you. Do you want to keep going?”
Laura inhaled, exhaled, willed herself to relax one muscle at a time. “Yes. Please.”
“Okay. I’m going to start touching you now.”
A whisper of sensation ran from her collarbone to her navel and back, so delicate and fast it was difficult to catalogue and identify. “Was that my imagination?”
“You look beautiful with your parted lips and loose hair, your bare breasts outlined by the ropes.”
A dart of movement across the fullness of one breast made her gasp. It was gone almost as it began. She smiled. “You make me feel beautiful.” Heck, he made her feel brave, as if she could do anything—even face her family with the truth. Hard to grasp, but she was sleeping with an O’Grady and enjoying the hell out of the experience.
The next touch was firmer and the smell… No, she wasn’t mistaken. “I can smell chocolate.”
“Clever girl.”
“I slept with the knives last night.”
“Huh?”
She could feel his gaze, his confusion. “I’m sharp,” she said.
He chuckled, a low masculine sound that revved her pulse rate. She wriggled her butt a fraction, a slow swivel from side to side. The scent of chocolate intensified and something brushed her lips. Her tongue darted out to taste.
“Stop. Do that again and I’ll spank you.”
“How?”
“Simple. I can change the ties in a matter of minutes and pink your delectable butt before you have time to say chocolate twice.”
She wished she could see his expression. The blindfold made her rely on her other senses to read him, the tone of his voice. “That sounds serious.”
“Shush, no more talking.”
The strokes across her torso, her ribs, her breasts were quicker now. More defined. A paint brush. That was what he was using, the bristles of a soft brush. Plus chocolate—the scent of cocoa was rich and almost as seductive as Dallas.
The quick strokes moved down her body, ran over her inner thighs and her hips then back up to her breasts until every part of her tingled with awareness and need. The sensations surfed her body to coalesce at her pussy. She could feel herself becoming damp with desire. One thing was sure—she was no longer cold.
“Can I take a photo of you?”
“For your eyes only?”
“Yeah, and you get to take one of me.”
“Sounds fair.” She liked the way he’d guessed her one objection and given her a way to counter her fears.
“Give me a sultry look.”
She did her best sultry and heard the faint click when he took a photo with his phone.
“Now the fun part,” he whispered next to her ear, and he kissed her—a lingering kiss with plenty of tongue. The taste of chocolate burst over her, plus the faint taste of whiskey. Irish, no doubt.
Taking his time, he licked patterns down her neck, giving her a hint of teeth at uneven intervals, keeping her off-balance. Her pulse rate, which had slowed until it felt as if she had syrup in her veins, resumed a choppier pace. He skimmed his lips over the curve of her breast, and she strained upward, fighting her ties, attempting to force her nipple into the heat of his mouth. She craved hard suction, but she didn’t receive the much desired attention.
“You look pretty with your hair mussed,” he whispered next to her ear.
The mattress moved as he shifted, and a frisson of awareness shot straight like an arrow striking a bull’s eye. He was watching her. She could feel his gaze stroking her face, her arms and legs. With her parted legs, he was probably studying her pussy. A burst of heat dive bombed her, striking her sex and radiating outward until the colorful shards exploded behind her closed eyes. Her breath caught, every sense on hyper alert.
A drift of sensation whispered over her hip, a shiver of pleasure. With her eyesight shrouded, she tried to imagine his expression, tried to imagine where he’d touch next, tried to imagine when he’d get to the good stuff.
He kissed her on her upper leg, his tongue snaked down the delicate skin of her inner thigh a few seconds later. This was liberating, she realized. Even with her arms and legs tied and her eyes covered, even bound and subject to his whims, being with Dallas freed her from expectations. She could cast her boring day aside, her problems and just be Laura. Let Dallas take responsibility for her pleasure.
“Would you like me to tell you what I’m going to do with you?”
“Dirty talk?” Even her voice sounded relaxed, almost drugged. High on Dallas. It was frightening how fast she’d fallen into this relationship.
The man resided in her mind whenever they were apart.
“Would you enjoy that?” His finger traced her lips while another played with her hair.
“No one has ever… Yes,” she said, struggling for her normal conciseness. Instead, her words emerged soft and breathy.
“Well, then.” A hint of the Irish ran through his words. So sexy.
A finger trailed across her collarbone and darted lower to smooth over and around one breast. The finger came maddeningly close to her nipple and stopped. “I’m going to clean the chocolate off you with my tongue. One slow stroke at a time. Then I intend to tease your breasts. I have some nipple clamps that will look very pretty on you.”
“Will they hurt?”
“Maybe a little. You’ll become very aware of your breasts and this awareness will echo in your pussy. After I’ve touched and teased you, rediscovered your secret pleasure points, I’ll lick your wet slit. I’ll tongue you but keep away from your clit. Wait for it to turn swollen and needy, watch it stand to attention. I’ll tongue fuck you, and if you’re very, very good, I’ll get you off with a vibrator.”
A fine tremor went through Laura as she imagined the scene, the feelings that would course through her as he put his words into action. She felt as if she was one big nerve of pleasure now and he’d barely started.
“How does that sound?”
“I want everything.”
The bed clothes rustled as he shifted. The next instant a light kiss brushed her lips. “You’ve been good, and the chocolate is almost gone. I might move to the next step.”
“Yes please.” Before her mind processed the next step, she felt his fingers at her nipples, the sharp suction of his mouth. He tongued her nipple, teasing it to a hard peak. Laura floated, relaxed and happy. She moaned a soft protest when he lifted his head, then she flinched, her breath catching, her muscles going tense at the nip of pain at her nipple.
“Breathe, sweetheart. Take a deep breath for me. Yes, that’s it.” His accent seemed stronger, more pronounced and she focused on his voice, following his instructions because his approval made her feel special.
With each breath the pain leveled out, and she discovered he was right. The heat in her nipple worked like a direct line to her clit. She burned. She craved, and she was hungry for more.
He repeated the same moves on her other breast. A second arrow of pain clutched her nipple, but this time she knew to breathe through the burn. In contrast, something cold settled on her chest.
“Perfect.”
A chain, she decided, when he gave a faint tug and a fiery sensation raced from her breasts to her pussy. Holy Hannah. She breathed deep, internalizing the sensations. Not quite pain and not pleasure, but something straddling the line between.
“I’m going to take another photo, sweetheart. That’s two for you as well.”
“No prob.” Her family would think she was crazy, but she trusted Dallas to honor his word. “I’ll have to think up the best way to use my photos.”
Laura heard a faint swish of an opening drawer, the wheeze of a bottle. Her ears strained for a clue. What had he said would come next? Licking. She was sure there was licking about to come. A spike of lust spread through her body and every part of her trembled with impatience for his next move.
Instead there was cold.
Instinct jerked her away, but she couldn’t evade the chill of whatever Dallas was stroking along her folds and pushing inside her with the easy stroke of his finger.
The liquid heated to body temperature and she ceased her recoil, her hips arcing upward to ride his finger, to assuage the sensual bite caused by whatever he’d rubbed on her vulva. Please touch my clit.
A smart slap to the side of her buttock froze her silent demands.
He chuckled. “My pace. There, I think that’s about right.”
The emptiness she felt when he withdrew his finger from her channel almost made her cry out. Slowly, she resettled her butt and regained equilibrium. Her tension seeped into the mattress and anticipation roared across her skin. Permission to accept the unknown.
It was almost as if he knew of her inner battle because the second she relaxed, he started touching her again. Pride. That was the emotion charging through her now. She’d pleased him, and the thought brought a wave of happiness.
“You deserve a treat.”
The approval brought tears to her eyes. She drew a huge breath and waited.
Something nudged her entrance and slipped inside, stretching internal muscles and filling her in a delightful manner. The object started to move, slow at first before the speed increased. Dallas’s hands on her hips grounded her, but it was the delicate lick of his tongue around her clit that propelled a throaty groan up her throat.
“Dallaaas.” Sensations tore through her, almost brutal in intensity. So perfect. Maybe it was the waiting, the slow build or maybe it was Dallas, but she knew one thing. She wanted more.
Pleasure strummed every nerve ending. Fierce and free, she soared, a kite riding the breeze. She rose and dipped, pulsed and quivered with each touch. His hot breath blew over her clit, the faint touch echoing in the pulse of her womb. Then he tugged on the chain connecting her breasts and heat roared like a beast—intense and scary, almost too much to bear.
She cried out, desperate for the final nudge to send her flying. Dallas knew how she felt because finally, finally he closed his mouth over her clit and sucked while tugging on the chain between her breasts. Pleasure exploded, splashing color across the back of her eyelids, grabbing and twisting every nerve ending in her body. She sobbed, quivering, the pulses of her channel going on and on as her vagina clutched the vibrator. The pleasure hit a plateau and receded, her senses quieting.
Dallas switched off the vibrator and removed it, leaving her empty. One at a time, he released her nipples from the clamps and soothed her with his hot mouth, helping her through the rush of blood to the tender peaks.
When his lips closed over hers, gentle and achingly tender, tears welled in her eyes.
He lifted his head for an instant and she felt bereft. A familiar crackle of foil had her pulse rushing again.
The mattress shifted as she imaged his body rising over hers, then her breath burst out and she knew she was right. His hard cock pushing into her was like coming home.
His loving continued at the same slow pace, each stroke measured as if he were testing himself too. In and out. Every thrust nudged her clit and anticipation resurged in her when she’d thought she had nothing further to give.
He ceased his thrusts, remained fully embedded in her, and kissed her with the same even strokes of his tongue as he paid homage to her mouth. He lifted his head and the rough pads of his fingers stroked her cheek. “I could do this all night.”
So could she. She could do this for the rest of her life. But she didn’t voice the words for fear of breaking the magical spell binding them together.
One more soft kiss and he pulled back, plunging into her again with a rapid stroke. Faster now as if he’d reached the end of his patience. He slid a hand between them, brushed her clit with a finger, his touch shoving her into another sharp climax.
“Dallas,” she whispered against his neck, part of her aching to hold his shuddering body. He gasped, gave two hard thrusts and groaned. Tremors racked his body, and her arms fought the bonds, instinct making her want to nurture. He remained in place for a few seconds longer before pulling out of her. The latex of the condom snapped and the ropes binding her feet loosened. He massaged her limbs as he released them and removed her blindfold.
She blinked up at him, taking in his passive expression, the still watchfulness.
Her smile started small, gaining momentum until her mouth ached, and she lifted her arms to stretch in the style and manner of a satisfied Persian. The change in him was mesmerizing, a cautious curling of his lips before the bloom of his return smile.
He hadn’t been sure of her reaction, and it made her realize they were both vulnerable—in their own way.
“How do you feel?”
“Sated,” she said. “Wonderful.”
He dropped onto the bed and drew her into his arms. The perfect ending. He treated her with care and consideration, gave her two amazing orgasms and held her like a valuable treasure.
This, she thought.
This was the reason why love between a Drummond and an O’Grady rated ten on the scale of perfect.