9
“UH, HI. I think there’s a key for me? Megan Sinclair?” Megan took a fortifying breath and fought the urge to fidget as the front desk clerk smiled at her and typed a few words into her computer.
Megan licked her lips, wondering if anyone could hear her heart beating wildly in her chest. She’d never done anything like this before, ever. But something about Gabe—God, the way he’d said I want to fuck you still sent her stomach into a swirling frenzy—made her want to take a risk. A leap into the unknown. It was thrilling and scary and exciting, and even though she knew it was dangerous, he made her want all of that.
She adjusted her purse, then smoothed her hands down the front of her denim shirtdress. She’d agonized over what to wear, trying on dress after dress, but all of them had felt too fancy. Besides, the entire point was to get naked, so she’d eventually chosen something simple and comfortable.
The woman held up a manicured finger and stepped away from the desk. Megan waited, barely registering the sounds of the casino, barely taking in the lobby’s décor. All day she’d struggled to focus, and she’d given up trying to write, instead going to La Perla and picking out a red bra and panty set, lacy and sheer. She’d taken her time pampering herself that afternoon, shaving her legs—shaving everything—painting her nails, rubbing lotion into her skin.
She wanted to please him, and knowing that she could—that he wanted her as much as she wanted him—made her feel indescribably sexy. The idea that she was getting herself not just ready for sex, but ready for Gabe, had turned her on, and she’d spent the afternoon aroused, fully aware of her body in ways she usually wasn’t, especially after the cancer had left her feeling so alienated from it.
She’d never wanted a man the way she wanted Gabe. Although she was wary about the whole one night only condition of their hookup, she was too intrigued, too curious, too attracted to him to stay away. The night of the party, he’d done something to her, and while she didn’t fully understand it, she did have the sense that she needed what Gabe had to offer. He’d shut her brain off and made her greedy for him, so much so that she hadn’t even contemplated saying no to his offer.
“Miss?” The clerk’s voice brought her back to the present. “Sorry about that. Here’s your key,” she said, sliding a card across the desk. “Room 16106. Elevators are just over there.” She pointed somewhere behind Megan. Squashing down the small flicker of embarrassment—after all, there was pretty much only one reason someone would’ve left her a key at the front desk—she smiled her thanks and strode through the busy lobby.
Adrenaline coursed through her and her mind raced as she stepped into the elevator with several other guests, and then pressed the button for the sixteenth floor. Thoughts flew by so fast she could barely latch on to them. Would she be good for him? Would she know what to do? Would he regret this? Would she? What if her lack of experience was a turnoff for him? What if she couldn’t come, despite what he’d promised on the phone? What if she couldn’t get out of her head and the emotional scars from the cancer surfaced? Would he get frustrated with her? Annoyed, like others had?
What if having sex with a man she was both attracted to and intrigued by, a man who was so emotionally guarded she could practically see his walls, was a huge mistake?
She stepped off the elevator and started down the hallway, toward the room where Gabe was waiting. Her stomach quivered, and she took a deep breath. Even though they’d agreed that they’d only spend tonight together, she wasn’t naïve enough to pretend that it wouldn’t change things between them. Once she crossed that threshold, there was no going back.
She tapped the key against the pad, and opened the door.
Gabe sat in an armchair by the window, and her heart caught in her chest at the sight of him. His long hair was down, falling in golden waves around his shoulders, and he wore a plain white T-shirt and worn jeans. He’d shaved, leaving his chiseled jaw smooth. His feet were bare, his legs sprawled casually in front of him. He held a glass in one hand, a small amount of amber liquid in it. He didn’t react as she stepped into the room, only cocked his head and studied her in silence. She could feel his eyes on her, almost like a caress, and something about his quiet yet commanding presence was reassuring, calming her nerves a little.
He took a sip of his drink, his throat working as he swallowed. Her eyes darted to the king-size bed in the center of the room, the white duvet undisturbed. The carpet was thick and plush under her feet. The room was all dark wood and luxe fabrics, with a massive window that looked out over the city. A large flat-screen TV hung from the wall opposite the bed, and as she moved farther into the room, she caught a glimpse of gleaming white marble in the bathroom.
He’d gotten them a nice room, and although she wasn’t sure he meant anything by it, it made her feel special. Like this one night was important to him too.
A gray-and-black backpack sat on the floor near Gabe’s feet, and she swallowed, wondering what was inside. She set her purse on the dresser, and Gabe still didn’t move, just studied her appraisingly, his gaze roving over her body in a way that warmed her from the inside out.
“Tell me why you came.” His deep voice rumbled over her skin, raising goose bumps on her arms.
She knew she owed him an explanation after the way she’d run at the party, and if they were going to do this, she might as well be honest. She licked her lips, wondering if he could see her pulse jumping in her throat. “Because I want this as much as you do.”
He took another sip of his drink before answering. They were on his schedule now, and for some reason, that relaxed her. She liked letting him take over. It made her feel safe and secure in a way she hadn’t in a long time.
“And do you know what I want from you, Megan?”
The sound of her name in his deep baritone made her shiver. She nodded. They hadn’t discussed it explicitly, but she knew the answer he wanted, because it was the answer she wanted to give. “My submission.”
“Mmm.” It was an approving sound, one that spread over her like sunshine. “And you can give that to me? Just for tonight?”
Her breath hitched as a warm throb settled between her legs. “Y-yes. I’m yours, Gabe.”
Something flickered across his face, a raw, primal emotion she didn’t quite have a name for, but then he drained the rest of his drink. He set the glass down on the table beside him and leaned back in his chair, his T-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest. “Take your dress off.”
She nodded again, surprised at how much she liked obeying him, and slipped out of her brown ankle boots before starting in on the buttons of her shirtdress, letting them fall open, one by one. Her fingers started to shake, and she fumbled with the last couple of buttons. Some of her usual doubts and insecurities about her ability to satisfy a man in bed returned, but she tried to brush them away. She wouldn’t be here if Gabe didn’t want her. She managed to slip the last button free, and her dress gaped open. She pushed it down her shoulders, feeling vulnerable, but also trusting him to care for her. She was surprised at how easy it was for her to give him that trust, given the relatively short time she’d known him. But it felt . . . natural. Right, and startlingly easy.
A low rumbling came from Gabe as her dress hit the floor, heat and hunger blazing from his eyes. With the grace of a predator, he rose from his chair and closed the distance between them in a few strides. The bulge in his jeans was noticeable, sending excitement spiraling through her. He reached out and trailed his fingers down her arm, eliciting a small shiver.
“Did you buy this for me?” he asked, toying with the strap of her bra. His fingers dipped lower, tracing the curve of her breast over the top of the lace. Her nipples beaded and his eyes darkened. She knew he could see them through the sheer fabric, and a thrill worked its way through her at the idea of being on display for Gabe.
“Yes. I wanted to—to . . .” She trailed off as he dragged his knuckles over her nipples, teasing her through her bra. They tightened to the point of aching, and she bit her lip, holding in a moan.
Walking in a slow circle around her, he studied her from every angle. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder from behind. “You’re so fucking sexy, Megan.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she basked in his approval. His big hands moved down her back, tracing her spine, before firmly palming her ass and squeezing her cheeks. He let out a low groan. “If you had any idea how many fantasies I’ve had about this ass,” he said, his grip tightening. He gave it a slap, not hard enough to sting, just enough to warm her skin. She whimpered and instinctively tried to push her hips back toward him.
“No. Only I get to touch right now,” he said, his grip rough on her hips. Once she stilled, his hands moved up her back, and he released the clasp of her bra. She let it fall to the floor without a fight.
He trailed a series of biting kisses down her bare back, hooking his fingers into her panties and pulling them down her legs as he kissed and nipped his way across her lower back. Her panties fell around her ankles just as his teeth sank into one of her ass cheeks, as though he was marking her. She gasped at the sting of pain, her insides softening as that sting warmed into something more, something hotter and more urgent.
“I can smell how turned on you are, baby. You smell so goddamn good.”
She arched her back at the approval in his voice. She wanted to reach out for him, to touch him, but that wasn’t allowed, and that turned her on even more. She was here to please him, in any way he saw fit. Her pleasure would be the reward for his.
He circled back around in front of her, his eyes lingering on her breasts before dropping to her bare mound. He let out a gruff sound as he cupped her with his palm. “Is that for me too?”
She looked up at him, fighting the urge to grind herself against his palm. He teased one finger along the seam of her lips and she let out a breathy gasp. “Yes. It’s all for you.”
He removed his hand and continued his slow circle, moving behind her again, as though he couldn’t get enough of just looking at her. “So submissive,” he said, a hint of awe in his voice. “So fucking beautiful.” He made a sound almost like he was in pain. “I’ve wanted you, just like this, Megan. Naked and trembling for me and all mine.” He buried his face in her neck as his hands came up to cup her breasts, heavy and aching in his calloused palms. He licked and sucked and kissed her neck as his fingers rolled her nipples, teasing them until she was practically panting. His mouth was fire on her skin, his hands rough and sure. She shook with the need to touch him, and as though he could sense what she needed, he took one of her hands and guided it to the bulge in his jeans.
He was hard, thick and long, and she rubbed her palm over him, enthralled at the idea that she’d done that to him. There was a feminine power in submission, she realized, a power that was hers for the taking.
“Fuck, baby.” He groaned and ground his hips into her touch. “So beautiful. So perfect. Fucking Christ.” He wrapped one of his hands in her hair, pulling her head back with a rough tug. His mouth closed over hers, his kiss hungry and deep. She moaned against his mouth, melting into him, letting that hand in her hair hold her up as she stroked him through his jeans. She could taste the scotch on his tongue, could taste the promise of everything to come. As his tongue stroked against hers, she felt his breathing become more ragged. Everything inside her tightened, her clit throbbing and her insides clenching. It was pleasure intertwined with need, each ratcheting the other higher and higher.
Gabe broke the kiss, leaving her lips tingling, and he released her. “Get on the bed.” She climbed onto the mattress, kneeling at the edge and folding her hands in her lap, hoping the submissive posture would please him. He stared at her, letting out another one of those approving groans she could easily get addicted to. He cupped her face, his thumb tracing over her cheekbone. “Such a sweet girl.”
“Your sweet girl,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes. That earned her another groan, and she trembled in anticipation of whatever was coming next. She was completely naked while he was still dressed, and while that normally would’ve made her self-conscious, tonight it only made her feel sexy. It was heaven not having to think, simply following his orders and trusting him to give her what she needed.
He moved away from the bed and retrieved his bag, opening it and pulling out a box of condoms and a set of black hand wraps. Her heart rate kicked up and her tummy fluttered at the sight of both items, and at what they meant. Heat surged through her, and she could feel her pulse between her thighs.
As he walked back toward her, Gabe slowly unrolled the wraps. “I’m going to bind your wrists with these, and they don’t come off until I say.”
When he’d first said that he wanted to tie her up, she’d been unsure. But she’d thought about it, fantasized about it, almost incessantly over the past twenty-four hours, and she’d known that he was right to assume she’d like it.
She nodded eagerly, her entire body thrilling at his words.
He made a gruff sound. “Turn around, hands behind your back.” She did as she was told, still kneeling on the bed. With sure hands, he began weaving the fabric over and under her wrists, slowly binding them. She felt the same calming spark that she’d felt at the party as she submitted to him. Everything about this felt so good, so right.
He secured the bindings with a knot, giving it a tug to test it. She flexed her wrists against her bindings. The hand wraps didn’t have much give, but they were soft and secure without being tight. “Turn back around,” he said, his voice even huskier than before.
She did, and a distant part of her knew she should’ve felt embarrassed or shy or unsure, but she didn’t feel any of those things. She didn’t have room for anything except this moment, right here, right now, with Gabe.
His eyes holding hers, he tugged his shirt off, letting it drop to the floor beside him. Her gaze roved over his gorgeous chest, taking in the hard, cut muscles, the defined abs, the light dusting of golden hair arrowing down into his jeans. He was magnificent. Beautiful. Strong, and powerful, and so much bigger than her. But she liked their size difference. Liked how small and feminine it made her feel. Her gaze traced over the tattoos on the underside of his biceps, those black wings stretching across his skin. She felt a tiny melancholy tug as she wondered about their significance, and knew he’d probably never tell her.
He popped open the button of his jeans and drew the zipper down, letting them fall. She could see the outline of his cock through his boxer briefs, and she licked her lips in anticipation. She wanted to see him, taste him, feel him. Wanted whatever he wanted to give her.
He pushed his boxer briefs down, his cock springing free. She made a soft humming noise at the sight of him, all thick and long and so, so hard for her. She caught a glimpse of something near his hip, a scar maybe, but he took a step toward her and slid a hand into her hair, his grip rough and demanding. “I want your mouth.”
She moaned, loving the thrill, loving the adrenaline of being what he wanted. For just a second, it all felt so surreal, as though it weren’t her and Gabe in the hotel room, but two completely different people. As though she were someone other than herself. Someone more confident, someone whole, someone whose body hadn’t betrayed her.
Letting his hand in her hair support her, she edged forward and bent, taking him into her mouth. He let out a hissing sound, and she smiled around him, loving that she had the ability to elicit that response. She swirled her tongue over his head, tasting the saltiness of his arousal.
“So good, Megan. So fucking good,” he said, stroking her cheek with his free hand. His praise washed over her, and she opened wider and took him deeper, her mouth moving up and down his shaft, her tongue flicking at the head. “Look at me, baby. Look at me while you suck my cock,” he growled, and she opened her eyes, meeting his. She started to move faster at the dark heat shining out at her, reveling in being good for him. “So beautiful,” he panted out, his hips starting to move a little as he thrust in and out of her mouth. Using her. Taking what he wanted from her.
She licked and sucked at the head of his cock, worshipping it. He groaned, louder than before. “Can you take more of me, sweet girl?” His voice was rough, and his hand tightened in her hair.
She kissed the head of his cock and then, on a slow exhale, took him as deep as she possibly could, almost to her throat, but not quite. He held her there for a second before easing out of her mouth. “Good, Megan. So goddamn good,” he said, thrusting once more. She wrapped her lips around him and worked him, sliding up and down his shaft.
Her clit throbbed, and she rubbed her thighs together, trying to get some relief but failing.
“Does having my cock in your mouth make you wet?” asked Gabe, fucking a bit deeper into her mouth. Although she was the one tied up, she couldn’t deny that she felt powerful at the way he was starting to lose just a little bit of control.
She moaned and he slid free. “Everything about you makes me wet.” She took his cock back into her mouth without waiting for instruction, wanting to keep sucking him.
“Spread your legs,” he said, stilling his hips and pulling out of her mouth again.
She did, her knees practically flying apart. He sucked in a sharp breath and trailed two fingers down her slit. “Look at you. So wet and swollen.” He met her eyes. “Your pussy is fucking gorgeous.” She bit her lip and whimpered as he stroked her again.
“It’s yours,” she moaned, trying not to rock into his hand.
“Such a fucking good girl. Jesus.” There was that awe in his voice again, that wonder, and she felt like she could live off of his praise, it was so nourishing.
He circled his fingers around her swollen clit, and her head fell back as she let out a loud moan. He slid a finger inside her, fucking her slowly as he worked her clit, and she couldn’t stop her hips from moving against his hand. He added a second finger, and she clenched around him, surprised that her orgasm was so close. Surprised that if that twinge that came with arousal had happened, she’d been too caught up in the moment to notice it. She let out another loud moan as he pressed on her clit and she started to shake.
He took his hand away. “No.” She looked up at him, trying to understand through the haze of her lust. “You come on my cock.”
She nodded eagerly, fresh excitement shooting through her. “Yes, yes, please. Please, Gabe,” she begged, the words falling out of her mouth. The corner of his mouth kicked up and he opened the box of condoms, fishing one out and tearing it open. She held her breath as he rolled it on over his length, squeezing the base of his shaft.
“On your stomach, ass in the air. Show me how much you want me to fuck you.”
She turned and fell forward, pressing her shoulders into the mattress as she arched her back and did as he’d asked. She felt exposed with her ass in the air, vulnerable with her hands pinned behind her back. It was heady, intoxicating. Addictive.
Gabe’s hand came down between her shoulder blades, a reassuring weight as he slicked himself through her folds. She wriggled back against him, whimpering into the mattress. “Please, Gabe.”
He rubbed the head of his cock over her clit. “Please what?”
“Please fuck me. I need you.”
With a low growl, he thrust into her, hard and deep. She cried out at the intensity of his cock inside her, stretching and filling her, almost overwhelming her. He held still, giving her a second to adjust to his size. A burn radiated through her core as she struggled to accommodate him.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. Her body welcomed him much more easily this time, the initial discomfort giving way to throbbing pleasure. “So perfect. God, Megan.”
In that moment, she felt perfect, in a way she never had before. Perfect and free and whole and able to just be.
His hands gripped her hips and he established a rhythm, steady and sure, each stroke driving her higher and higher toward something she’d thought she couldn’t have. His breath came harsher, his moans louder, tangling with hers and filling the room with the sounds of pleasure. He slipped his hand between her trembling thighs and circled her clit, timing his strokes with the thrust of his cock in and out of her body.
“I’m gonna come,” she moaned, surprised, and relieved, and overwhelmed all at the same time.
“Come on my cock, baby. Let me feel it.” His fingers didn’t stop and everything inside her coiled tight before exploding in a riot of heat, radiating outward from her core.
“Oh God, Gabe!”
He’d made her scream, just like he’d promised.
“Fuck yes, Megan, shit,” he panted out, his thrusts coming harder and faster, the headboard banging against the wall. Each stroke of his cock prolonged her orgasm, and she pushed her hips back into him, moaning and gasping, practically senseless and incoherent with pleasure.
Gabe let out a roar and then pulled free of her body. She heard the snap of a condom and then felt several hot spurts as he came on her ass. For several seconds, they panted together, coming back down from what had been the most intense sex of her entire life. He leaned forward and kissed her back and then moved away. Her shoulders were getting tight, her legs shaking, but she didn’t want to move. She was too busy basking in the afterglow of that earth-shattering orgasm. She felt golden, as though she were shimmering from the inside out.
She heard water running in the bathroom, and then footsteps as Gabe returned.
“Oh,” she gasped softly as she felt a warm washcloth on her skin. He was cleaning her up with gentle strokes, and something about the unexpected tenderness of that made her chest pinch and her eyes sting.
He untied her wrists and pulled her up onto her knees. She practically fell into his arms, shaking and trying not to cry.