The Novel Free

Mine to Hold





This whole “sex for the duration” thing wasn’t going to work. Tyler saw no scenario in which he walked away from Del at the end of all this and left her alone to raise their son. His mother might have believed deep in her bones that he was the kind of man to abandon his family, like his own father. But he didn’t want to be that same scumbag. And he didn’t want to let Del go, leave her free to fall in love with another man who would put a ring on her finger and plant more children in her womb.



Oh fuck, even the thought of it made him violent. Not that he’d been far away from that feeling since leaving Eric’s.



“What are you going to do?”



Bleed off some of his pent-up energy and frustration. “I think I’ll go pound the treadmill and the weight machine down the hall.”



Del turned to him, wearing a little probing frown that made him feel like she was trying to crawl into his head. “Would you hold me, Tyler?”



His entire body tensed at her suggestion. Of course. The problem was, would he stop there? Somehow, he had to find the fucking will.



“Sure.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, filtering his other hand into her hair, as he held her in what he hoped was a gesture of comfort—and kept enough distance between her body and his pike-hard dick.



“How’s your wrist?”



Hell, he hadn’t thought about it since they’d left Eric’s. He lifted his arm and glanced. The blood had dried. It would leave a nasty scab and a shitty scar for a while, but he’d deal. “I’ll wash it up later.”



“You were worried about me,” she whispered.



“Of course. I didn’t know what the motherfucker was going to do to you. He’s not the same guy I was partners with.”



“Eric came on strong and acted like a total ass. I— It surprised me,” she admitted. “It all seemed so surreal. I never imagined that the man I married would actually hurt me.”



“Yeah? He strapped me to the refrigerator and made me watch him paw you. I wanted to kill the son of a bitch. I still might.”



“Then . . . I kicked him in the balls, and it was like shutting down his penis turned on his conscience. Or like the pain finally pierced through his anger. I still don’t understand.”



“I don’t, either, angel. I’m just glad you fought back, and that he didn’t do more.” And all this talk wasn’t going to help her forget. He opened his arms to her. “Come here.”



Del burrowed closer to him, nestling right against his erection. She froze. He closed his eyes. Busted.



“Your entire body is . . . tense.”



Tyler tried to take a deep breath and relax. The last thing he needed to do was scare her. She’d had enough of that today.



But the tension wouldn’t ease. Tucked in the corner, he saw a sleek, marbled wet bar. A new bottle of Cîroc vodka sat on the counter. His name was all over that. Tonight, after she’d gone to bed . . . Yeah, that was his. A five-mile run on the treadmill, a quick session or two with his hand wrapped around his dick, and that bottle might bring him down enough so that he didn’t pounce on Del the second she got supine. At least he hoped so.



***



TYLER backed away from her, and Del frowned. He was so tense, he was pinging. Jumpy. Hard everywhere.



“Where can I settle you before I hit the treadmill?”



She started to tell him not to bother before she realized what Tyler was saying without saying it. He’d been tense since the encounter with Eric. He was buzzing with leftover adrenaline. After a lot of action on the job, Eric had often wanted to run, fight . . . or fuck.



Swallowing, she stared. That was it. He needed to release this tension, and he was willing to put that aside and take his aggression out on the home gym, rather than risk upsetting her. Something inside her melted.



Yes, she had to resume work on this case today, but Tyler needed her right now. After the way he’d turned himself inside out to help her since she’d shown up on his doorstep, she wanted to give to him in return. And she wanted to replace the ugly memory of Eric’s pawing with Tyler’s touch.



“How about the bed?” she suggested.



She saw a muscle in his jaw tic, but he nodded, then gestured her down the hallway. Del walked slowly, aware of his hot gaze all over her backside. Purposely, she swayed her hips as she made her way into the master bedroom. Maybe she should be more afraid of being near a man as keyed up as Tyler after Eric’s crap earlier today, but she knew Tyler would cut off his arm before hurting her.



A huge king-sized bed dominated the space, done up in cream and chocolate, with a floor-to-ceiling studded, padded headboard towering over the bed. Two sleek nightstands flanked the bed, their modern lines almost stark, but the warm tone of the wood saved the room from being sterile.



In the corner, a big barrel-backed chair in a welcoming gold tone rested, framed by more warm wood. Del turned away from Tyler, peeled off her T-shirt, and draped it over the back. A quick flick of her hand later, and her bra dropped to the ground.



Behind her, Tyler sucked in a breath.



God, the tension in the air between them was thick and buzzing. It flew across her skin, hovering, leaving tingles dancing all over her body. Her blood sang. Already, her panties were embarrassingly damp.



Tyler did this to her every time. Made her feel desired, womanly. Whole and perfect.



She reached for the snap of her jeans. Suddenly, he was behind her, grabbing her wrists in a grip just shy of painful.



“Don’t,” he snapped.



Del looked at him over her shoulder. His face was taut, mouth compressed. A vein bulged in his temple. He crowded her personal space, and no way she could miss that erection against the curve of her ass.



She locked gazes with him, looking him right in the eyes. “Come to bed with me.”



His nostrils flared. His grip tightened a fraction. “You don’t know what you’re inviting.”



“You’re on a ledge. You need to come down. Let me give you what you need.”



Instantly, he released her and turned away. “It’s a bad idea, and I don’t want a pity fuck.”



“I don’t pity you, Tyler. I desire you.”



He shook his head and stared out over the city, resolutely not looking at her. “Don’t think that spreading your legs for me is some sort of Band-Aid for my foul mood. I want you, too, but not like this. Not after what Eric put you through. Let me bleed off this frustration some other way.”



She didn’t reply, just doffed her jeans and panties.



Del doubted Tyler could fail to hear the rustle of her clothes. His stance squared, his ramrod spine straightened further. Even with his feet slightly spread apart, nothing about the way he stood looked casual. He was keeping himself together with a teeny thread of self-control. She wanted all that passion unraveled and directed at her. She wanted to ease him, be what he needed. Now wasn’t the time to examine why. If she did, it would probably scare the hell out of her. For now, it was enough just to be here for him.



On quiet feet, Del made her way across the rich Berber carpet. She grabbed a handful of Tyler’s T-shirt and pulled slightly, revealing that place where the cords of his neck smoothed, then flared again into the bulge of his shoulder. She put her lips there. He tensed even more beneath her mouth.



“Tyler . . .” she breathed.



He clenched his fists. “After what Eric put you through, you deserve tenderness. I can’t be gentle right now.”



She nipped at his ear and pressed her breasts against his back. “Come to bed.”



“Jesus, Del!” Tyler turned, backed away. “I’m telling you flat out that . . .”



His voice trailed off as his gaze trekked all over her body before settling between her legs. He swallowed hard, then met his stare. The look he drilled her with was so hungry, her pussy tightened. Need throbbed.



She pressed a hand into her fluttering stomach, then eased it down, down, until she settled her fingertips over her clit and rubbed in slow, soft circles. Tyler’s gaze latched on, unblinking, transfixed. Burning.



For once, Del felt not just sexy but powerful. She had no doubt this man wanted her badly. Sex with Eric had been erratic and often somewhat meh. Most times, when she’d instigated, he’d blown her off with something between dismissal and annoyance. Not so with Tyler. She was getting to him. And when he unleashed his dark side . . . The thought made her shiver.



“Please, Tyler.” She closed her eyes and tossed her head back, slowly driving herself insane with a teasing touch.



He ate it up with his stare. Del could feel his gaze fused to hers. She dared a peek at him. His fists were clenched, his breathing ragged. He looked ready to explode.



“Fuck!” Tyler bellowed as he took a ground-eating step toward her. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from her clit. “If I hurt you, you goddamn tell me.”



She nodded.



“Promise me,” he demanded. “Say it out loud.”



“Of course. I—”



Del didn’t get a chance to say more before Tyler shoved her wet fingers into his mouth. He licked, groaned—and it broke open everything he’d been holding inside.



He lifted her and lunged to the nearest wall, shoving her against it. “I’ve got to have your pussy, Del. It’s mine. To taste, to fondle. To fuck. Mine.”



Those green eyes of his drilled into her, and her heartbeat tripped, then picked up speed. Her nipples beaded. He seemed to be waiting for some response, so she nodded. In an hour, she’d be her own person again, and he’d back off. But now, she’d be what he needed.



Primal satisfaction crossed his face. His nostrils flared. Then he reached down and wrapped an arm around each of her thighs and lifted her up, back sliding against the wall.



“Tyler?”



“Mine,” he growled in answer.



The next thing Del knew, he’d hoisted her thighs over his shoulders, wedging her back high against the wall. He aligned her pussy with his mouth. His intentions became crystal clear.



In this position, she had no leverage, no way to move. No control.



“Tyler.”



He didn’t reply. Instead, he swooped forward and latched onto her wet flesh, his tongue unerringly flicking her clit. Del gasped. Sensation wound through her instantly, hot, drugging. She felt so alive and aware. He gripped her so tightly, she wondered if she’d bruise. The two days’ growth of whiskers on his cheeks abraded her inner thighs with every plunge of his tongue. His breath on her folds was hot, rough as he latched onto her, totally unrelenting, and ate her like a ripe fruit, nipping at the flesh before licking up the drops of nectar that flowed freely.



Her orgasm built so quickly. He hadn’t kissed her, hadn’t touched her anywhere else. Before this, she would never have believed that she could be this aroused this quickly without more seduction. But the absolute insistence in Tyler’s demand ramped her up. Her thoughts clouded over as more pleasure rushed in. She gasped, flattened her hands against the wall, and let it happen.



When he speared his tongue inside her, Del couldn’t help but clamp down on him.



“Come for me.” He laved her clit, then shoved his tongue deep again.



The disparity of sensations, the stimulation of so many nerves nearly at once, sent her spiraling closer to release.



She wailed as everything built. Her legs stiffened, her breathing grew erratic, and under it all, she was weeping, dying. This orgasm was going to roll over her, harsh and insistent, and leave her shaken to her core. But Tyler wanted it now. Demanded it. Del was helpless to do anything but give it to him.



The tension rose, tightened. Everything between her legs throbbed with need. Then Tyler nipped at her clit and sucked it into his mouth again mercilessly. She let go with a scream.



Waves of pleasure crashed over her like lightning, fierce and mind robbing. Del’s cries echoed through the big penthouse, filling her ears in an endless stream of desire that left her panting and spent.



Tyler wasn’t about to slow down. Her orgasm didn’t pacify him at all. If anything, it revved him up more, and he ate at her with even more hunger.



“Again,” he demanded.



“I—I can’t. Oh God.” Her womb continued to pulse with every flick and caress of his tongue.



“Bullshit.” Everything about him told Del that he intended to prove her wrong.



“Too much. Too fast,” she panted.



“Take it,” he growled. “Tell me to go the fuck away or take it.”



“Don’t go.” She’d die if he left her now.



Without hesitation, Tyler lapped at her again and again, and his unrelenting attention to her clit became a pleasure so sharp, it was almost pain. She balanced on the edge, whimpering. Del reached out for something to claw, but he’d positioned her so that she was powerless to move or do nothing except allow his head between her legs, his tongue on her aching flesh. She could only feel. God, no way she could avoid that.



The sensations he forced on her grew, multiplied. They ratcheted up higher than anything she’d ever imagined, much less felt. Every breath, every lick of his tongue, every scrape of his teeth magnified inside her. And still she hurtled toward ecstasy with no end in sight.
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