Wynd Temptress Part 6

Chapter Eight.

The ghost of Tyre Leyton came to Jesse in the same way he always did. When she was most vulnerable, deep in REM sleep. He hoped to infect her with his evil.

Sometimes when her own thoughts turned dark and negative, she feared that he had succeeded, despite that her grandmother a.s.sured her that it would never happen as long as her heart was filled with love.

She had always wanted to believe her grandmother, but she had lived in fear of him always, afraid that if she let down her guard, she would succ.u.mb to him.

His voice, whisper soft, invaded her mind. You can never escape your destiny. You are my legacy, of my seed.

Jesse struggled to silence the sinister voice, but it was relentless. In my power. Now, always, forever.

No, she screamed, fighting against the darkness that gripped her, that surrounded her, that choked off her air.

Then she stopped struggling and concentrated on what her grandmother taught her. She drew in her thoughts, focused and reached for the light within. Images of her grandmother surfaced, her warm comforting smile, her voice. It's all right, Jez. You're strong. Turn toward the light. Rid your heart of fear and let love in. You can do it.

It was as though her grandmother was beside her.

And then Jesse was awake, blinking against the sunlight that bathed her, and surrounded by a familiar scent that comforted her pounding heart and engulfed her in a soothing warmth.

Male warmth.

Her eyes popped wide.

She took in her ivory-drenched surroundings, his private torture chamber, the one in which last night he had sent her to heaven. She sighed.

Behind her that nemesis lay, spooning her body to his, his breathing deep and peaceful, his arms cradling her.

It was morning. While she still wore her sundress, she could feel that he was completely naked. His muscled stomach pressed against her bare backside and his s.e.x, heavy and large but relaxed, nestled against her thighs.

Half of her wanted to stay like this forever, and the other half was still furious that he kept her captive.

Now was the time to slip away and hide.

She lifted his warm hand off her stomach and slowly rested it on his hip. His breathing remained steady. She nudged his leg off, slipping her own out from underneath. Rolling gently to the side of the bed, she attempted to slip her other arm out from under his, tugging just enough so as not to wake him.

Her eyes dropped down his body, over honed muscle and golden flesh that was covered everywhere with a light dusting of dark hair. The relaxed set of his face drew attention to his full lips and softened the menacing effect of his heavy beard growth. She swallowed any thoughts of running her hands down his body, annoyed with herself that he had such an effect on her. She pulled again at her arm, trapped under his neck. She frowned and leaned in close, lifting his thick hair just a fraction. A flash of metal winked at her. Handcuffs. Their wrists were locked together.

She wanted to beat him.

When she looked back at his face, he was fully alert and smiling. "You're not going anywhere." His eyes glinted with amus.e.m.e.nt.

She thrashed and flailed at him, punching at his arm but his big body didn't even budge. She wanted to beat him silly. "Where would I go, you idiot. I can't even get the skimm-"

"You'll hide." He propped himself on one elbow, pulling her down easily with the gesture and pressing his handsome face to hers. "And I want you close."

She shouldn't like the predatory sound to his voice, but she did.

"You raped me." She tipped her chin.

He reeled back, looking as though she had slapped him.

Good. He should feel guilty.

"Jez..." He tried to cup her chin. "Come on..."

She slapped down his hand.

His eyes turned hard. "You were moaning into the carpet last night-"

"Did you hear me moan 'yes'?"

His neck turned red and the pulse at his neck beat heavy, but he said nothing.

"Well?"

He pushed himself off the bed and stalked over to a desk in the corner. It did no good to resist his efforts, because he dragged her along as though she were a scarf trailing behind him. And kicking and biting had only produced temporary relief. But guilt, now there she had gotten a response.

She'd play that card until he agreed to release her.

He shuffled through a bottom drawer and pulled out another set of handcuffs.

"What are those for?"

Ignoring her, he lugged her over to a door that was along the same wall as the tub and then drew her through it into a gleaming gold and bronze bathroom. She stumbled in, taking in its contents. More skylights and mirrors surrounded her. Reflected back at her on all sides were the scarred rugged planes of his body. His thick p.e.n.i.s, even in its relaxed state, looked wonderfully powerful.

Before she realized what he was doing, he snapped her other wrist with a handcuff and then ushered her into a large chamber with a bidet. He anch.o.r.ed the other end of the handcuff to a metal wall-bracket beside it. Then he uncuffed himself from her.

"Let me know when you're done." He slammed the door.

She supposed she should be grateful for the privacy, but it galled her that he kept her locked up.

When she was done, he handcuffed her to the sink so she could brush her teeth.

"We both smell of s.e.x," he said. "We're taking a bath." He went through the whole locking and unlocking routine so that at no time was she unattached from either an immovable object or from him.

"We are?" She looked up from brushing and repeated his words, then spit out the paste and rinsed her mouth. "I hope that means we're taking turns bathing alone."

"Why should we?" He looked over the top of her head at her reflection in the mirror.

She wiped her mouth clean. "Because, it's the least you could do after last night."

He tensed and a large vein throbbed in his temple. "What about what you did to me?"

"You?" She feigned amazement. "You're comparing what I did to you with rape?"

His nostrils flared and she thought the vein would burst. Their gazes held. He looked ready to throttle her. For one terse moment she feared she had pushed him too far.

"I should have gone with my first instinct when you kneed me in the b.a.l.l.s."

"And what was that?" she taunted, knowing full well that she didn't really want the answer, but it was too late.

"Spanking the h.e.l.l out of you," he breathed.

"You wouldn't dare."

His eyes flared. "Just give me a reason," he gritted through his teeth.

She held her breath, sure that he meant it and willing her mouth to keep shut. She sensed that one more word out of her and he'd have her dress over her head and her bottom over his knee.

Their gazes locked in the mirror. Neither one of them blinked. She was dimly aware of the water running and acutely aware of how large his chest looked framed behind her. With his face unshaven and his hair falling to his shoulders, he looked more like a medieval warlord than a modern military commander. His neck muscles bulged with repressed temper.

Still, it was against her nature to back down. And she'd be d.a.m.ned if she would let him spank her.

She cleared her throat. "The last time you had your hands on my backside...things got out of control."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. She held her breath. For a fleeting moment she saw rage and pain and sadness all mix together in his expression. Then his gaze wavered.

With an abruptness that startled her, he s.n.a.t.c.hed a towel off the rack and turned her roughly, patting droplets of water from her chin, and refusing to meet her gaze.

Without another word, he went through the locking routine and then dragged her out of the bathroom.

She breathed a small sigh of relief and watched in silence as he bent to turn on the tub faucets and then dribble scented oil under the spray, his tight b.u.t.tocks almost impossible to resist. She leaned down to get a view of his b.a.l.l.s hanging loosely between his thighs and fought the urge to reach out and cup him.

Then he straightened and turned her around. He wrapped her long hair in a twist and clipped it atop her head. Then he turned her back around and with a casual hand started unb.u.t.toning her dress.

She grabbed his hands. "Please. At least let me take a bath by myself. You can lock all the doors. There's no way I could escape."

"You'd figure out something."

"But-"

"I'm not letting you out of my sight. Besides," he smirked. "I want to see more of you."

"So that's it. You want revenge." She tried to twist away from him but with barely an effort he pulled her back. She circled his wrists, her eyes pleading. "Only a petty man...a weak man, seeks revenge."

"Then I'm weak and petty." He drew aside her bodice and bared her nipples. She groaned at the way his eyes brightened at the sight of her. When he covered one small breast with his palm her nipple pebbled instantly. She closed her mind to the delicious feel of his skin against hers and tried to think.

Of course weak hadn't worked. The man had an ego the size of his c.o.c.k. Guilt was her ticket.

She m.u.f.fled a groan. He had bent his head and was blowing on her nipples and watching them pucker to arousal.

"I can't believe that after all you've done you would do this to me," she choked, forced tears filling her eyes.

"It's not going to work," he murmured, barely grazing one nipple with his teeth.

Her s.e.x clamped down. d.a.m.n him.

"The last time I fell for your tears you followed it up by choking me." He squeezed just the tips of her nipples between two fingers.

Pure l.u.s.t shuddered through her while she fought to keep her head straight.

Somewhere in her l.u.s.t-laden brain it registered that she had gotten to him with those tears. 'Course, those had been real. No matter. She had tapped into his vulnerability and now she'd use it against him.

His lips closed around the tip of her nipple and suckled gently. She shivered as a rush of moisture settled between her legs. If this was how he planned to get his revenge, she might wait a bit before playing the vulnerable card.

He gently released her with a tiny lick. "Delicious."

She closed her eyes and thrust forward a little, antic.i.p.ating the feel of his tongue on her other nipple. But the next thing she felt was her dress falling around her ankles.

"Oh, yeah. I like seeing more of you." He dropped to his knees. "What's this?" he said with feigned surprise, sliding his thumbs along her l.a.b.i.a. "You're all wet."

She yanked on their handcuff and stepped aside. "You're an animal."

"Honey, you haven't seen animal yet." He slapped her bare backside and watched her jump.

She whirled around, ready with a retort until she looked down at his erection, full and thick, and all spontaneous thought abandoned her.

His gaze softened as though he could read her thoughts. When he reached up to thread his fingers through the soft tuft of her curls, she covered herself. He gave a soft chuckle. "We'll see how long that lasts."

Then he was dragging her into the tub with the strap of her dress hanging off their locked wrists. With a speed that alarmed her, he locked her other wrist to one of the gaslight posts that rimmed the perimeter of the tub and then did the same with the wrist that joined his. He flung her dress off to the side.

She could either sit on the tub's side, fully exposed with her hands anch.o.r.ed alongside her thighs or sit submerged up to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with her arms stretched out to either side of her.

With a sigh of surrender, she let herself slip into the water. She closed her eyes and let the bubbling water relax her, lifting one foot and resting it on the ledge so that one of the jets ma.s.saged her heel.

When she opened her eyes he was sitting across from her, sudsing his ma.s.sive body, his eyes staring between her legs. She knew he couldn't see anything but swirling water, yet the flushed look on his face told her that he was drawing up the image of her p.u.s.s.y, fleeting though his glimpse had been.

His muscles flexed and rippled with a fury as he scrubbed across his chest and under his arms. He submerged himself and when he splashed up out of the water, he slicked his hair back with two hands while his gaze went back to her spread legs. He stood. The tip of his c.o.c.k bobbed above the tub's waves, glistening with water and throbbing red. He started toward her, all one hundred eighty-five muscled pounds of him.

She dropped her leg, but he grabbed her ankle before she could close her thighs. He smelled glorious. Clean and male. And aroused.

Her heart leaped into her throat.

Leaning in close, he wedged his hips between her thighs, his breath washing over hers, a mixture of cinnamon and mint. He dropped her foot and braced his hands to either side of her on the tub's ledge. He was wet everywhere. Droplets caught on his chest and rivulets slid over and between his pecs. The urge to lick him was irresistible. A hot shiver slid down her spine.

"You want me to touch you, Jez."

She shook her head but didn't dare speak, afraid of what might come out.

"Liar." He slid one hand over her hip and down her thigh as his lips moved closer to hers, almost touching. She wanted to lick the water off his lips, too.

His palm hooked under her knee. "I could f.u.c.k you now so easily."

She jumped when the head of his c.o.c.k glided along her c.u.n.t lips. G.o.d, yes, please.

"And you'd like it, wouldn't you?" His lips grazed hers. All she could do was whimper and thrust her hips. The blunt head of his c.o.c.k slipped along her lips but couldn't enter her. She wanted to scream at him to tilt his hips back so she could impale herself on him, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.