Night Fall: Truly, Madly... Deadly Part 6

"What are you going to do?"

"Why? Don't you trust me?"

"You have me pinned to the bed. Why should I?"

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Because I'm about to become your whole world." Her answering shiver of delight was all he'd hoped to arouse.

He stretched his hand along her arm until he reached her wrist. Her arm tensed, but she didn't resist when he tied the fabric strip around her wrist. She was curious. More curious than afraid. Foolish girl! He eased off her and dragged her closer to the headboard, and then looped the fabric around one iron bar and tied it. He did the same with her other wrist. "Now, get on your knees."

Darcy's breath was harsh and coming faster. She struggled against her bonds and pulled herself into a kneeling position.

He reached around her body to the snap of her jeans and opened them, then smoothed the rough fabric over her hips and down her legs.

Raising one knee at a time, she helped him remove the pants.

He tossed them to the floor. "Do I have to tie your legs?"

"No," she replied, her voice small.

Having subdued her, Quentin was ready to begin his campaign. "What do you want, Darcy?"

Her back quivered. "For you to touch me."

With his hands on the soft skin of her b.u.t.tocks, he almost lost his resolve. He parted her cheeks and pressed his thumb against her a.s.shole. "Like this?"

"Quentin?" Her voice rose on a plaintive note.

"No?" He leaned down and tongued the rosy ring. "Like this?"

"Quentin!" Her breath caught.

"Is that all you want me to do?"

"No. I want you to f.u.c.k me."

He kissed each cheek. "Well, we all have our little disappointments."

He left the bed and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"Quentin? Quentin!"

With her angry curses ringing in his ears, he strode into her kitchen and found a bottle of lousy Scotch. Pouring two fingers into a tumbler, he savored the bite of the liquor and willed his flesh to obey his command.

He wasn't one to ponder over the deeper emotions, so he didn't question why this particular woman raised his possessive hackles. He just accepted that she was his. The time had come for him to take a mate.

He imagined her, still perched with her shapely a.s.s in the air, fighting her restraints. She'd spit nails at him right about now.

This might be a long night, but before the sun rose, she'd learn who was master.

Darcy woke to an incredible sensation. A hot, wet cloth swirled over her a.s.s and in between her legs. She moaned and widened the gap between them. The cloth dipped to circle her c.u.n.t, and she lifted her hips. An invitation her tormentor couldn't miss.

"You're awake," Quentin said, his tone matter-of-fact.

In an instant, she recalled everything. She tugged against the restraints, but they held. "What are you doing?"

"Preparing you, love. I don't want Joe's scent on your body when I take you."

Darcy bit her lip. Her body remembered better where they'd left off. She still ached for completion after his diabolical seduction. He'd promised to make her cream. Instead, she'd been left to scrunch the bedding between her thighs in an attempt to m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e herself.

"Get on your knees." His voice held a self-satisfied tone.

He was enjoying her torment. She glowered, but complied immediately.

"Good girl." His naked skin blanketed her back, and his c.o.c.k slipped between her legs.

Darcy tilted her hips, hoping he'd slide right in.

"Not yet."

She was afraid of that. Her legs trembled, and her c.u.n.t wept.

He brought the cloth to her neck, rubbed over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, paying special attention to her aching nipples. Then he scrubbed her stomach. "That's better."

"I'm not going to beg," Darcy said, hoping to incite an argument and break through his icy control.

He chuckled, a mirthless sound that worried her more.

"Your legs are shaking. I'll make you more comfortable." He reached past her and snagged a pillow, and then placed it beneath her belly. "Lie down on this."

Darcy lowered herself, disturbed to find the pillow raised her a.s.s. She was positioned for his pleasure.

His hands cupped a b.u.t.tock each then glided to her thighs. "Loosen your legs." He arranged her thighs and knelt between them, encouraging her to widen the gap with nudges from his knees. "Just right."

Just right for what? A warm gust of air blew over the heated flesh between her legs. She shivered.

"Tell me what you want," he commanded.

Darcy hesitated. The last time he'd asked that question, her answer hadn't done the trick.

"You have to tell me, or I won't help you." His words gusted over her quivering flesh.

"I want you to f.u.c.k me."

He slapped one side of her a.s.s. A stinging, sharp blow. "Wrong answer."

"Did...did you just spank me?" she asked, her voice incredulous.

Smack! "You don't ask the questions. I do."

"You arrogant-"

Smack! "Don't raise your voice to me. Not unless it's to plead."

Darcy gritted her teeth, seething, but holding onto the thought that eventually she'd get an opportunity to give him some retribution. In the meantime...

"Now, tell me."

"I want to please you," she said between clenched teeth.

He shifted on the bed, and his rough tongue lapped her p.u.s.s.y. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No." The word was a moan.

"What do you think pleases me?"

Control, you f.u.c.king a.s.shole! "Being inside me?"

Smack! He spanked a cheek.

"What the h.e.l.l did I say wrong that time?"

Smack!

Darcy pressed her hot face into the bedding. Her a.s.s was warming up, and she couldn't help wriggling on the pillow. If he'd just lick her c.u.n.t one more time, she was sure to pop. She needed one right answer.

His hands kneaded her b.u.t.tocks.

Darcy moaned.

"What will please me, Darcy?"

"For me to beg," she said, her words m.u.f.fled in the comforter.

"Will you?"

"Yes."

"Beg sweetly, love." His tongue fluttered on her cheeks, then moved to the crease and descended. When he reached her a.n.u.s, he paused.

"Please," she blurted, hearing her rebellious inflection.

He gave her a single flicker.

She got the point. He wanted a constant stream of supplications. s.h.i.t! Darcy's chest heaved. Anger warred with need. "Please, Quentin. I need you inside me. Oh, please."

He bit her a.s.s. "Try to sound a little more convincing," he said, a wry note of humor in his voice.

"What do you want?" she asked, angry with this humbling, but unable to deny what would satisfy her body. "I ache. I've been hurting for hours. I need you deep inside me." She took a deep breath. "Please, come inside me."

"Better." The point of his tongue pushed into her a.s.s and fluttered.

"Oh, G.o.d. Please, take my p.u.s.s.y." Her words this time were sincere. "I need your huge c.o.c.k, deep inside me." Her moan ended on a higher note, when his finger replaced his tongue.

"You're tight here, love. Don't guess my c.o.c.k will be playing in here for a while." His finger pushed and pulled, in and out.

Darcy sucked air into her starving lungs.

"Don't forget to beg, love," Quentin warned.

"Can't even think, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

He swatted her a.s.s, part of his palm slapping her c.u.n.t.

The sting ignited her. "Oooh. f.u.c.k me. f.u.c.k me, please," she pleaded hoa.r.s.ely.

"Then rise up to meet me."

Eager to comply, she knelt, her hands twisting in the fabric that bound her to the headboard. The head of his c.o.c.k pushed into her c.u.n.t.

She needed no further prodding. "Please, yes! Give it to me."

He thrust his hips forward, and Darcy whimpered. He didn't go very far, her v.a.g.i.n.a was tight and resisted his thick c.o.c.k. She wriggled her hips to accommodate him, and he plunged deeper this time. Her gasps were loud as each successive thrust shoved him deeper inside until he was fully seated.

It was embarra.s.sing how easily she came. He didn't have to move again-her c.u.n.t did all the work. Deep, spiraling spasms gripped his c.o.c.k and squeezed, pulsing around him. Darcy hung on her ties. His strong shaft was the only thing that kept her from crumpling to the bed.

When her heart slowed, she realized he was still buried to the hilt inside her.

There'd be more.

Chapter Five.

The ties loosened, and Darcy's arms fell limply to the bed. A moan escaped. Quentin pulled her up until she was sitting in his lap, their bodies still connected.

So overwhelmed was she by her response to his lovemaking, she trembled in the aftermath. His arms circled her belly, and Darcy felt strangely comforted. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. "No one's ever filled me the way you do."

Quentin nuzzled her until her head tilted. He tongued the lobe of her ear. "Am I hurting you?"