Tara was so overcome by the rioting emotions flooding through her that she didn’t know how to react to them—or to Griffin. At base, she was scared to death. More frightened than she’d ever been. Then she acknowledged that wasn’t true. There were times in her early life she had been terrified. And for good reason. No child, no matter how naughty she supposedly had been, should ever be shut up in a locked trunk while her stoned mother entertained one of her boyfriends. Using every trick her shrinks had taught her, Tara shoved at the hideous memories. From years of practice and hardcore therapy, she’d learned how to shove the memories deep into her subconscious. She was surprised that at this scary moment she was able to submerge them. With a flash of insight, she realized that she now had a more potent way of submerging her terror than any shrink had given her. She had Griffin.
Something had happened to her in the elevator. Yes, the terror was almost as intense as her childhood fears had been. But they didn’t last and she got control of herself—at least partially. Because of him. The outrageously handsome man had held her next to him and convinced her that yes, she could breathe, and yes, they were going to get out of the elevator soon. For the last three days, when she didn’t hate him for what he did for a living or how his arrogance challenged her feisty self, she allowed herself to acknowledge that she’d broken through the shales of fear that had ruled her life. Because of a man she despised. Or had thought she did.
Now that same arrogant man had ordered her to leave his party and come with him to his palatial lair. To her surprise, make that horror, she had done just that. And now here she was, blindfolded and spread-eagled on his enormous bed, stark naked. Oh, and the reason she was naked was because he had told her to take off her clothes, all of them, and stand naked in front of him. And . . . she had done exactly that. Now, to her shock, this commanding man, who was the sexiest and most compelling man she’d ever met, had told her that he intended to make love to her as intimately and egregiously as possible. And that she was going to love having him do exactly that.
Murmuring to her that he would be gone for a minute or two at the most, Tara forced herself to take deep breaths the way she’d learned in therapy and, she acknowledged, the way that Griffin had insisted she do in the elevator. In what couldn’t have been two minutes at the most, she heard him return. More important, she smelled his powerful scent that sent a flurry of sensation across her overwrought nerve endings. Hearing what sounded like the clink of crystal against glass, she heard the strike of a match, and the smell of burning wax filled her nostrils. Not understanding why he would light a candle when she was blindfolded, she understood all too soon.
Griffin’s voice was soft, seductive. “Remember those boundaries I said I was going to push, sweetheart? I said I might hurt you, but just a little. The way I did when I bit down on your tender earlobe.” Remembering the slight pain that he had quickly rubbed away with his skillful fingers, Tara also remembered the jolt in her groin that the unexpected pain had triggered. Before she could analyze the way she’d reacted, she felt a tiny burn on the inside of her wrist and realized that it was hot wax. She cried out in surprise, but almost instantly, he rubbed her wrist with an ice cube, banishing the slight pain of the wax.
“What . . . what are you doing, Griffin? Please tell me you aren’t going to burn me, please!”
“No, sweetheart, I’m not. I’m only going to show you that you can trust me not to hurt you. And even if what I do hurts for an instant, I will make it go away.” He added, “I need you to trust me, Tara. To know in the core of your being that I won’t hurt you.” At that moment, she felt a drop of wax hit her other wrist but just as quickly felt the soothing cold of the ice cube. For the next several minutes, he dropped the hot wax on her arms and then her legs. As quickly as the heat hit her skin, he rubbed away the sting with ice. While he was doing it, he murmured how beautiful she was and how much he wanted to make love to her, all of her. Within minutes, she felt erotic stirrings in her groin and, to her shock, found herself moaning softly in anticipation of the spit of heat and then the bite of the cold. When he let a drop hit her breast and as quickly rubbed away the sting, she cried out. She did the same when he dropped a hot drip on the inside of her thigh, then eased the tiny sting with ice.
When her body was tight with anticipation and the sensations in her groin were causing her to tremble in expectancy, he murmured, “I’m done with the hot and cold, Tara. Now you’re going to have to deal with a different kind of heat. The kind of heat that comes when your sexy body can’t get enough stimulation and would kill to orgasm.” At her shocked gasp, he asked, “Tell me, Tara, has anyone brought you to a climax by playing with your beautiful breasts?” When she startled and tried to pull away, he stretched out beside her, then leaned over and began gently massaging her breasts. When she couldn’t hold back a passionate groan, he began tweaking one nipple and then the other. “Damn, Tara, I wish you could see your nipples. They are tightening in anticipation of my fingers and my mouth.” When she arched her back, wanting to press her aching nipples closer to his mouth and his expert fingers, he chuckled. “Oh, baby, you’ve done it now. I’m going to feast on these gorgeous breasts in the way I imagined I would from the first time I saw you.”
For the next few moments, Griffin moved between her breasts, sucking and pinching first one taut nub, then suckling the other. Tara had never known how sensitive her nipples were. The most any man had done to her in the past was a quick suck or an occasional twist and then moved on to an equally quick fuck. In contrast, Griffin was ravenous. It was as though he couldn’t suckle her enough. He manipulated the erotic nubs and twisted them until she was aching with desire. He marveled at how lush her breasts were. He praised their weight, their full, proud shape. No man in her life had done more than whistle at the size of her breasts, usually followed by a crude, teenager-worthy comment. In contrast, Griffin couldn’t seem to get enough of their lushness, their taste. She didn’t want him to stop, if anything, feeling the rising torrents of sensation flooding her pussy, she begged him to suck her harder.
He laughed, a low, sexy sound. “My pleasure, madam.” As he dragged her nipple into his mouth and pressed it against the roof of his mouth, a rush of sensations threatened to overtake her. In the extraordinary moments that followed, she exploded into throes of passion, shrieking a keening cry of ecstasy that came from her very soul.
Tara didn’t know how long it took her to recover from the stunning orgasm. She only knew that she rode the waves of passion in ways she never had. It was as though Griffin’s erotic ministrations had shattered a brittle shell that had encased her body and emotions. A shell that she hadn’t known was there. For long, sensuous moments, Tara rode a wave that she’d never experienced. She would have been frightened, horrified if Griffin wasn’t holding her, stroking her, and whispering sexy words of praise in her ears. When it seemed as though her breath was coming somewhat normally and at least she wasn’t panting like a frantic puppy dog, he released the cuffs on her ankles. Remembering his offhand threat that at some point he would be dealing with her “pussy,” she managed to stammer, “What . . . what are you going to do, Griffin?”
As he stroked her stomach and then moved steadily lower, his sexy laugh said more than words could. “What am I going to do, sexy woman? I’m going to do what your body is begging me to do. I’m going to go from your luscious breasts to your pussy, the intimate lips that, even without my touching them, are swelling in anticipation.”
Helpless to do anything else, she emitted a shuttered groan when he teased her labia with his inquisitive fingers. His voice was low, sincere. “By the way, Tara, thank you for ensuring that there would be no barriers to my fingers and lips. I’m glad that you are bare, darling, or I would have had to shave you myself.” He added, “Tara, I trust you know that the way you have cared for your body is but another clue to the intensity of your desires.” She could almost see his smile when he added, “But then, how could you possibly stop the luscious dew that is coating these beautiful intimate lips?”
Feeling him move up on top of her, Tara should have been horrified when he murmured, “But now, sexy lady, I need to position you so that I can become acquainted with your extraordinary cunt.”
Shocked at the crude term, Tara cried out when he pushed her feet up against her bottom and spread her knees apart. Horrified at the picture she was presenting, she tried to close her legs, but his cautioning murmur was as fierce as his strong hands.
“No, no, sweetheart. Do you think for a moment that I will not feast on you? When the fragrance of your erotic dew is a siren song to my libido?” He groaned. “Jesus, Tara, it’s a good thing you are blindfolded or the sight of my throbbing cock getting bigger by the second would scare you even more.”
Tara knew she should resist him, insist that he let her go. But sensations she hadn’t known were possible had her lifting her hips to his hands and mouth. To say he was an expert at drawing every illicit sensation from her eager body was like saying that occasionally tornados could cause damage. Between his lips, tongue, and perhaps most of all, his challenging, illicit words, he brought her to one climax after another. But it was when he had teased every erotic place she hadn’t known she had, then drew her throbbing clitoris between his teeth at the same time as inserting a marauding finger in her ass that she truly shattered.
Not knowing when or if she would ever stop shaking, Tara was surprised to realize that not only could she open her eyes but that she could move her hands and feet. Understanding that she was no longer blindfolded and bound to the bed, she had a moment of fright. She didn’t know how she could face him. Not after all the ways she’d given in to him. She’d begged him not to stop, to give her more, then impossibly more. Doing her best to quiet the tremors that were cascading over her body, she looked up to see him standing beside the bed. His expression should have terrified her. It was as though a hungry beast was standing beside her and was about to attack her. It was then she saw that at some point he’d stripped off his shirt and was naked from the waist up. Before she could do more than gaze in surprise at his lean torso striped with taut muscles, he slowly unbuttoned his pants. With an unceremonious shove, he pushed them to the floor, revealing his surging cock. Tara couldn’t have shuttered her cry if she’d tried. Overcome by a mix of fear and admiration, she knew the only thing she wanted more than it frightened her was to have this powerful man deep inside of her.
Long after he’d entered her, taking her to unimaginable heights and filling her in ways she hadn’t known were possible, she lay wrapped in his strong arms, too moved to speak. In soft murmurs, he told her that he hadn’t known a woman he’d wanted more than he wanted her, how beautiful she was and how wonderfully exasperating. She fell into a deep sleep, his soothing words fighting with her passionate body-shaking tremors that seemed as though they would never stop. Only his arms tight around her convinced her that she wouldn’t shatter.
Hearing his voice change, his tone become sharper, she realized that he was talking to someone other than her. Pressing up against him, she heard him say, “What happened? How did she do it? Are Brooke and Hunter . . . All right, fine. Get the Gulfstream ready. I’ll be there within the hour.”
Tara moved closer to the man who’d taken her places she didn’t know existed. In the midst of her erotic adventure, she truly didn’t know whether he was real. Or if she was in a torrid dream that would have been a nightmare if it wasn’t so stunningly erotic. His arms tightened around her as he tipped up her chin, forcing her to meet his intense gaze.
“Dammit, Tara. I would as soon shoot myself than tell you that we need to go.”
Trying to understand what he was saying, which was challenging because she barely knew where she was, he added, “Sweetheart, there’s been an emergency. It’s my family. I’m sorry, but we—I—need to leave.”
Forcing herself to come to her senses, Tara acknowledged that he’d unwound himself from her embrace and she was alone in the enormous bed. In what was a few minutes but seemed like a lifetime, he was beside her. His voice was soft, concerned. “Here, honey, let me clean you off. Damn, you are covered with remnants of me . . . and with impossibly sexy remnants of you.” As he dragged the warm washcloth over her breasts and then across her stomach and between her legs, he laughed softly. “We would never make it down the highway smelling like we do, Tara. If the wild animals didn’t get us, your father’s police force might. After responding to the calls from neighbors indicating that a sexual orgy had taken place and the randy participants were fleeing, leaving their erotic smells in their wakes.”
Not knowing when, if ever, she would regain her senses or her equilibrium, Tara allowed him to wash her off like a small child who played too hard and was exhausted from the effort. At some point as they roared down the narrow road, she began to shake off her torpor. But it was when he pulled up in front of her modest home that she came to attention. It occurred to her that he hadn’t asked where she lived. Apparently, he knew. As he knew so much about her while she barely knew who or what he was. Glancing at his rigid profile, she acknowledged that the man she’d bared her body and soul to was real. Frighteningly so. And now that he was done with her, he was dropping her off at home, like a teenaged boy whose parents had come home earlier than expected. Rounding the car, he was at her door in seconds, extricating her from its luxurious interior. She didn’t resist when he reached for her and held her tightly beside him as he walked her to the door.
His voice was low, raspy, as he stood her on the doorstep. “I need your key, sweetheart.”
She shook her head. “I never lock my door.” At his frown, she shoved at him. Not willing to look at him, she opened the door and stepped inside. To her surprise, he followed her. Closing the door behind him, he pressed her against it. As if he weren’t the one who’d brought their spectacular orgy to a crushing close, he said, “Oh no, you don’t. It’s bad enough that I had to drag you out of my house when you were barely awake.” Lifting her chin, he forced her to meet his stern gaze. “Sweetheart, you need to understand. Nothing except an emergency could make me leave you tonight. Unfortunately, I need to go to New York—now.”
When she didn’t answer, he said quietly, “Tara, you need to know, in all the crazy, wild things that I’ve done, in a life full of excess, I’ve never done what we did tonight with another woman. I didn’t know it was possible to feel the way that I do.” Holding her chin so firmly she was sure she would have a bruise, he said, “I want you to know that nothing except a family emergency could make me leave you like this.” When she didn’t answer, he said firmly, “Nod if you understand.”
When she swallowed hard, then managed to nod, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. And then he was gone.