TWENTY-THREE
Wyatt rolled over lazily, reaching across the bed and seeking Kelsey’s warmth, but only ended up with a handful of empty sheets. Swallowing back a sigh, he grabbed his glasses off the bedside table and slipped them on, blinking in the bright afternoon light of the cabana. Even though he’d already confirmed she wasn’t there, he looked to the vacant side of the bed again. A little pang of disappointment went through him. Even after these days together, Kelsey still couldn’t seem to stay sleeping next to him—not even for a simple nap.
She’d either get up in the middle of the night or super early in the morning and slip out. Some mornings he’d found her outside on the deck writing in what he’d deciphered was a journal or he’d find her dozing on the couch in the living room. He hadn’t called her out on her nightly escapes, knowing she’d go into combat mode if he questioned her. But he’d hoped that as she grew used to him, she would feel comfortable enough to truly share his bed.
He rolled back to stare up at the ceiling. Kelsey was still running. He’d told her on the plane that he wasn’t trying to catch her, but maybe she’d sensed that it’d been a lie—even if he had believed it himself at the time. Whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, he’d been hunting her for months. Every day he went into that cafe had been one more step in a chase he hadn’t realized he was on. And now he had her right there in his grasp, but each time he thought he had a good handle on her, she’d dissipate like fog through his fingers.
You can only have this little piece of me for a while. Every subtle step she took backward repeated those words to him. And he’d thought that would be enough for him. He, of all people, shouldn’t want to poke too deep into the psyche of the woman he was with, especially one who was waging war with so many old monsters. But the more and more time he spent with Kelsey, the more he knew in his gut that she was nothing like Mia.
Mia had been fragile from the moment he met her, emotions swinging from one end of the spectrum to the other at a rate impossible to predict. Wyatt had been young, and after not exactly walking into college with a ton of experience with women, she’d seemed like some exotic bird. Wild. Rebellious. Daring. Everything he wasn’t supposed to date. The attraction had been too hard to resist. She’d pursued him, and he’d been a willing target. After just a few casual dates, she’d brought him to a play party at one of the professor’s houses off campus. He’d had no idea what he was getting into or where that introduction would lead. But a year later, he’d found himself in a full-time D/s relationship with Mia.
It’d been both the best and worst time of his life. He’d experienced highs he’d never thought himself capable of reaching and then lows filled with all the anxiety that came along with having someone else’s well-being in his hands. He’d been pompous enough to think he could help balance Mia, soften her destructive edges. But the more he gave her, the more she wanted. He went down the path willingly with her—the light stuff they started with eventually progressing into heavy pain play, long-lasting marks, humiliation. Some of it he’d been into, some of it he did simply because he knew it was what she craved. The darkness of it all had been both frightening and enticing.
But when he started to see Mia’s moods dip to more dangerous depths, he’d told her he was backing off until she talked to someone. As her master, he’d commanded it. And she’d listened . . . for a while. But then right when it seemed like things were getting better with her mood, she began to make more demands on his time, to develop a neediness that had never been there before. He’d been in the thick of his graduate program at the time and couldn’t afford to be with her every second. So she called him with emergencies all the time, pulling him out of class. When that stopped working, she went after the jealousy card.
The day before she took the pills, she’d called him in class again, telling him he’d regret it if he ignored her this time. He’d shown up at her apartment and the place had reeked of sex, booze, and cologne that wasn’t his. Two guys he’d never seen before had been passed out in her bed, naked. She’d been wildly apologetic, of course, but he’d heard the threat she was trying to convey. Leave me alone, and I’ll make you pay for it. Then she’d begged him to punish her for her transgressions—right there, with those two fucking guys sleeping in her bed.
In that moment, he’d realized he had become a pawn in some elaborate game he no longer wanted to play. He knew that something had tilted way off kilter within Mia and suspected that he had played a hand in it. He’d taken a fragile girl into a world of mindfucking, a world built only for the strong.
But he’d been so livid that night. He loved her and she’d fucked two strangers just to get attention. He couldn’t handle it, and he’d put an end to it right there. She’d grabbed at him, begged him not to leave, had told him she’d take whatever punishment he wanted to give her.
He’d pried her off him and had given her the punishment he knew would hurt her the worst—space.
Two days later he’d gone back to her apartment, worried that she hadn’t made any attempts to contact him. And he’d found her in bed, an empty pill bottle on the floor and a note tucked into it. There is no space for me in this world anymore.
Wyatt scrubbed his hands over his face as he lay in bed, the memory like a sack of rocks pressing on his chest. His brother was the only one who he’d ever told the whole story to. And Jace had told Wyatt that he wasn’t to blame, that Mia clearly had some underlying mental issues that led her to suicide. Logically, Wyatt recognized that, but in his heart he knew exactly what had pushed her over the edge. That note left no doubt. He should’ve never walked out and left her alone when she was in such a frantic state. Even if he’d wanted to end the relationship, it was his responsibility to make sure she was safe.
And he’d never ever wanted to take on that kind of responsibility for someone again. But these last few days with Kelsey had lit up old, shadowed parts inside him, showing him a glimpse of how D/s could feel when shared with someone who could handle herself. Kelsey worried that she was weak and vulnerable to her old addictions. But Wyatt saw nothing but strength within her.
The girl had fought her way out of a life that few ever escaped, had been raped and tortured, hunted by gang members. Yet each time, she’d picked herself up and moved forward, always with a goal in mind. Alcohol had been abundant on this trip so far, and she’d barely spared it a glance. Even today, she’d probably faced one of the most embarrassing situations anyone could think of when she’d walked into that group of women, yet she wasn’t curled in a ball crying about it. She’d simply moved forward again. Shake it off. Form a new plan. That seemed to be how she handled everything.
And that’s what made being with her so damn fantastic and different from anything he’d experienced before. She didn’t need him to be her caretaker. That heavy weight that had been constantly present in his and Mia’s relationship wasn’t there. Kelsey’s submission wasn’t a desire to give over responsibility of her life. Instead it was a mutual exchange between them. They both fed off each other. Balanced.
She didn’t need a hero to save her. She’d already saved herself. And maybe had even saved him. He hadn’t felt this happy and carefree since . . . well, ever, really.
But it was clear that she didn’t see that side of herself. She feared really feeling things. He could see it mar her afterglow every time they made love. The sex would open her up, and then the moment would cool and the guard rails would snap back in place. He’d let her get away with it because he’d promised he wouldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t give her the impression he could give her something he couldn’t. But his resolve on that front was about as strong as tinfoil now.
When Wyatt had seen her with Kade Vandergriff that first night, he’d been jealous and hadn’t liked the vision of his future without her in it. No, his life wasn’t set up for a girlfriend, but who the fuck created that jam-packed schedule? He did. Would the company fold if he ended his day at six instead of ten? Would the world stop spinning if he took a Saturday off? Obviously, no mushroom cloud had appeared in the distance when he’d stopped calling work earlier in the week.
Plus, he hadn’t felt this relaxed, this fucking good in longer than he could remember. And he knew that state had nothing to do with the beach vacation and everything to do with the blonde who’d snuck out of this bed a little while ago.
The girl who didn’t want to be caught.
He couldn’t bait Kelsey with a promise that if she let her walls down things would definitely work out, that this could actually become something. He didn’t have a crystal ball. The life they’d return to after this trip was much more complicated than lazy island days. But maybe there was some way he could show her that being open to the possibility was an option.
But he’d learned the hard way that words scared her. Earlier, she’d agreed to another few weeks with him, and he’d wanted to tell her he didn’t want a time limit on it, but he’d bit his tongue. His few slipups before now had sent her scampering. Words wouldn’t do it. Action. That’s what she couldn’t help responding to. Lucky for her, action was exactly what he had in mind this afternoon.
He pushed the covers aside and climbed out of bed. After a quick trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he pulled on a pair of shorts and went to search for Kelsey. Her key was still sitting on the dresser so he doubted she’d left the cabana. He headed toward the living room, expecting to find her napping on the couch, but the room was empty.
However, when he glanced toward the glass doors that led to their private deck and the view of the beach, he saw a flash of painted toenails peeking off the edge of one of the loungers. Smiling, he made his way across the living room and slid open the door. But what greeted him on the other side of the glass damn near knocked him back inside. Kelsey had her face tilted toward the sky, a pair of big sunglasses and a hat shielding her, and a paperback had been set on a side table. But the hat and sunglasses were all she wore. Laid out in the dappled sunlight that peeked through the surrounding palms, her breathing in the even tempo of sleep, Kelsey was blessedly naked, adorned only by tan lines.
Christ. A rattle of hard, pounding need went through him.
Her skin gleamed golden in the late-afternoon rays, her nipples were hard from the kiss of the breeze coming off the water, and her legs were parted just enough to let him see her pretty pink folds and the lavender base of the anal plug peeking out. He went hard as steel in the space between seconds.
His woman was naughty. So gut-wrenchingly sexy that he didn’t even have words for it. She made him feel like he’d spent his life on some colorless planet, only existing in black and white until she’d stepped into his orbit. And now everything was in color—bright and full and passionate. Unpredictable. Real.
After drinking in the spectacular view for another long moment, he went back inside to grab a few things. When he came back out, she was still sleeping. He set the items he’d grabbed on the table with her book.
Nap time’s officially over, Ms. LeBreck.
* * *
Something tickled Kelsey’s hand, drawing her slowly into awareness. Awareness that she was deliciously warm, that she wasn’t dreaming anymore, and finally that she couldn’t roll over. Her eyelids fluttered open, the sunlight dazzling her for a second before the tall backlit shadow in front of her came into focus. Wyatt.
“You left me in bed alone again, love,” he said, his voice as balmy as the sunshine beaming down on them.
She tried to shift but her arms had been tied above her and secured to the lounge chair. “I couldn’t sleep.” Because I was freaking out. And I could have feelings for you and I needed to get the focus back on the safe side of the playground—on sex. “So I thought I’d surprise you with your suggestion from this morning.”
“Hmm,” he said, his gaze sliding along every bare part of her. “I approve. Though I wish I’d been here for the sunblock application.”
She smiled under his blatantly carnal perusal, feeling back on solid ground. No tenderness or sweetness there, just pure filthy lust. That look she could handle. “I’m probably due for a reapplication.”
“One step ahead of you, love.” He moved forward and grabbed her under her knees, spreading her until each foot planted on the deck beneath. Then he sat on the end of the lounger and reached for something on the table next to her. “I’m a little surprised you chose to put temptation for me out here, though.”
She looked toward the beach beyond the railing. The part of the shore their room faced was too rocky to walk on, and the sides of their deck were shrouded in trees with no other cabanas near. “How come? It’s private enough.”
He smiled as he drew a palm up along her belly and cradled her breast in his hand. “Yes, visually private.”
He leaned forward and sucked her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and teasing it to a tight, pulsing point. She dragged her bottom lip between her teeth, watching his dark head bob against her, his tanned fingers pressing into her paler flesh. He always made her feel so . . . handled. Like she could give herself over completely and know that he’d give her exactly what she needed even if she didn’t know exactly what that was. He sucked hard for a moment, the luscious snap of pain drawing a whimper from her. Then moved to offer the same treatment to the other side.
After taking his time with that one as well, he released her with a wet pop and met her gaze. Silver glinted in his opposite hand. “But the things I want to do you, love. They’re going to make you want to be loud. And sound can carry out here.”
“Shit,” she whispered, finally realizing the predicament she’d gotten herself in.
He grinned and opened the tiny clamp he’d been holding and positioned it on her nipple. The harsh pinch of it made her hiss, and she tilted her head back as the sensation zipped through her body. This one was different than the one he’d used on her in the kitchen. This one had vicious little metal teeth. Before she could breathe through the pain of it, he clamped the other one as well, and let go of a chain linking the two together. The chain added weight to the clamps and her fists balled in the bindings.
She knew how these kind worked, in theory at least. She used them on her subs often. But son of a bitch that hur—oh. Before she could even complete her thought the pain went through that beautiful section of her brain that converted it to sweet, burning warmth. Every part of her body seemed to heat, and the plug that she’d only been marginally aware of for the last few minutes began to throb inside her, making her sex ache for the same feeling of fullness. She sighed into the rush of it all.
“There you go, gorgeous. Let your body do the magic.” He grabbed a bottle and squeezed liquid into his palm. “And I think we have enough shade, so you’re not going to burn. But you still owe me the chance to give you a rub down. I’d hate for this pretty skin to dry out with all this sun and sand.”
He grabbed one of her ankles and lifted her leg, parking her foot against the hard wall of his chest, then started working warm oil into her calf. The position spread her wide, tightened the plug, and left her completely and utterly exposed to him. The breeze swirled over her already damp folds with a warm caress, drawing her scent into the charged air between them. Wyatt sent her a smile that said You’re all mine now, and her belly flipped at the thought. His. For the whole month.
He massaged the oil along her leg, moving down to her inner thigh and working in slow, methodical circles, getting closer and closer to the part of her that ached so badly, but never touching it. An embarrassing amount of wetness gathered between her legs, and when his knuckles grazed that spot between her thigh and her sex, she let out a pitiful whimper.
His hooded gaze slid from her parted mouth downward to the spot that most throbbed, the blue of his irises going almost black. Hungry. She bit her lip, a full body blush rushing over her. Being naked in front of him wasn’t new, but she’d never felt so physically open and vulnerable to where he could see exactly how desperate she was for him, how uncontrollable her need was.
His palm tracked down along the back of her thigh and slid the oil along the bottom curve of her ass, jostling the plug inside her and making her hips lift toward him. “Why are you turning red, love?”
The question was low and easy, the sensual syllables of that deep voice rolling over her as she tried to keep herself from moaning. “I—I feel so exposed.”
He traced a gentle fingertip along her already slick labia, a butterfly wing of a touch. “And you look beautiful, love. So pink and swollen and slippery for me.” He jiggled the base of the plug, sending a ripple of sweet sensation through her. “You’ve even gotten the plug all slick from your juices. I could come from looking at you.”
“Please don’t do that,” she whispered. She would die right here on this chair if he didn’t get inside her soon.
He caressed the inside of her other thigh, tender, reverent. “Don’t worry, love. I plan to fill every empty space inside of you. If you let me.”
Her eyes lifted at that, colliding with a gaze that suddenly held more than lust in it. It held promise, hope. It held . . . She squeezed her eyes shut. No. He’s just talking about fucking. That’s all this is. “Please, Wyatt.”
She didn’t know what she was pleading for exactly—for him to stop saying things like that, for him to touch her where she most needed, for him to take away the fear that was creeping in.
He tugged on the chain between her breasts, sending a sharp bolt of awareness through her and knocking her worried thoughts right out of her head. “Stop thinking, Kelsey. Feel. That’s all you need to do right now. You understand?”
“Yes, sir.” She nodded quickly, thankful for the shift, for him yanking her back from the scary stuff.
He climbed off the lounger, wiping the oil from his hands on a towel, then tugged off the khaki shorts he’d been wearing. His cock was heavy and thick, jutting out proudly from between those muscular thighs. Wyatt took himself in his hand as he kept his eyes on her, stroking the bead of moisture at the tip and spreading it over the head. His mouth curved upward. “Keep sucking your bottom lip into your mouth like that, and I’ll be forced to shove something in there.”
She pressed her lips together, unaware that she’d been doing such a thing. But her mouth was watering at the thought of tasting him again, of having her lips stretched wide around that glorious cock of his. “That wouldn’t exactly be a punishment, sir.”
“You like sucking cock, love?” he asked, his voice going gritty with his own banked desire.
“I like sucking yours.”
His smirk was pure sex. “Good answer. But I’ve got other plans for you right now.”
He moved around the edge of the chair to the table and grabbed what looked to be one of the hotel hand towels. He rolled it lengthwise and then brought it to her mouth. She lifted her brows.
“Bite down, love. It will help you keep quiet.”
She licked her lips, eyeing the towel with trepidation. “I can keep quiet.”
He bent down and kissed her on the nose. “Not if I have anything to do with it. Will you trust me on this or are you saying it’s a limit for you?”
The question held no accusatory tone, it was an honest one. If she didn’t want to, he would never make her. When she’d been kidnapped, Davis had shoved his sock in her mouth and she’d almost choked on her own vomit. The memory was an ugly one—one that flared up on occasion when she’d gag on something. And she hated that it was there.
She would not let it ruin this moment. And maybe, just maybe, doing this with Wyatt could replace the ugly memory with a sexy one. She nodded. “I trust you.”
The pleasure that broke over his expression at her trust was reward enough. He held the towel in front of her mouth and she bit down on it. “Good girl. Can you breathe?”
She nodded.
“Practice spitting it out.”
She opened her mouth, shoved the terrycloth out with her tongue.
He grabbed it, re-rolled it, and put it back in, then let his hand drift down to one of her clamps, circling the sensitive area around it. She rocked into the touch with a muffled moan. “There you go. You can get rid of the gag if you need to. But this way, when I fuck those screams out of you—because, believe me, that’s what I intend to do—you won’t alert the whole island.”
He bent down and followed the path his finger had traced with the tip of his tongue, nearly making her eyes roll back in her head. Then he was on the move again, leaving her bereft without his heat, his touch.
“Don’t get that forlorn look in your eyes, love. I’m not going anywhere.” He snagged a condom off the table and sheathed himself, then lowered his body between her thighs. His focus never left her face as he put his hands behind her knees and pushed her legs toward her chest. “I plan on being here a very long time.”
His cock nudged at her soaked entrance, her body not opening as easily with the plug taking up real estate. But he simply pushed her legs wider and worked his way into the impossibly tight space. He groaned as she quivered around him, the feeling of fullness nearly sending her into orgasm instantly. She was so wound up already—bound, gagged, slick with oil and her own arousal that even the hint of him brushing against her G-spot had her nervous system short-circuiting. It was all so much. He was so much.
“I can feel you clenching around me,” Wyatt groaned as he pumped slowly back and forth inside her. “You’re fighting it already, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
She made a miserable whimpering sound into the towel.
He let go of one of her legs and reached beneath himself, grasping the base of the plug and turning it easily, the lubricant still keeping things slippery inside her back passage. “Go ahead and take this first one, love. You’ve earned it. Come for me.”
He kept his steady rhythm, fucking her with long, deep strokes, but as he did it he pulled the plug halfway out, lighting up the nerves at the sensitive rim and plunged it back in, fucking her with the toy in the same cadence as the grind of his cock over her G-spot. The dual sensations twined up her spine, radiating out like satellite signals to every molecule in her system.
“That’s it,” he said, his voice hot against her. “You feel so good. Come all over me. Show me how much you like me fucking that pretty cunt, that tight little ass. Show me how shameless you are. Take it, Kelsey. Take what you want.”
At that, she couldn’t stop the charging stampede of sensation. It knocked her back against the lounge chair and she groaned into the towel, her teeth gripping it hard as her body rode Wyatt’s thrusting cock and his toy. Sweat broke out across her skin and she closed her eyes, drowning.
But before she could even catch her breath, Wyatt was sliding the toy out of her and pulling his cock free. Panic shot through her and she went to reach for him, but her hands were still locked to the chair. He placed a hand on her thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. “Shh, I’m right here.”
There was the sound of something slick and then Wyatt was there against her again. Only not at her still-spasming pussy, but at her back entrance. The fat head of his cock pressed against the tight ring, and she shuddered hard, her body still tweaking from the orgasm.
“Try to relax, love,” he said, an edge of strain in his voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She made a frustrated moan. You won’t hurt me. Take me. Please, God, take me. But the words were only in her head, the towel still gripped tight in her mouth. As if he’d heard her unspoken thoughts anyway, he spread her ass cheeks with his hands and nudged forward, pushing against the pucker of muscle until her body gave in and opened to him. The first full thrust was one of the most intense moments of physical sensation she’d ever had.
The combination of pain and sheer bliss rocked through her like an earthquake, sending fissures and cracks through every semblance of sanity she was clinging to. His fingers found her throbbing clit, converting any remaining threads of discomfort into pure ecstasy, and he began to move inside her, his sexy words falling over her like fiery rain. Words like beautiful and amazing and sexy and that nickname that made her bones melt, love.
“Look at me, love,” he said in a near strangled whisper.
She forced her eyes open, her brain fuzzy, but her vision of him stunningly clear. His skin glistened with sweat, the muscles of his chest and shoulders flexing and tightening with each steady slide inside her tight passage—a beautiful male beast on a mission to claim. But what transfixed her was the way he was looking at her. Like no other woman had ever existed in the world before this moment and like no other ever would. The sheer power of that gaze ripped right through her, tearing through any distance she was trying to keep between them. Her eyes clamped shut.
“No, Kelsey,” he said harshly. “I need your eyes. Look at me. See me. See me seeing you.”
The words jumbled in her head, mixing in with the overwhelming feeling of her body tightening, revving. But she got the message. This isn’t a random fuck. You mean something. You mean something to me.
Water filled her bottom lids but she held on to his eye contact, ensnared in it. And only then did he slide his fingers and angle his body in just the right way to take her over the edge. Pleasure shot through her like a thousand pinpricks of light flashing through her and bursting out of her skin. She screamed around the towel, a wretched grit-filled sound that hurt her throat. But she couldn’t stop. The crazed noise just kept going and going, on loop. During the height of it, he took the nipple clamps off her, sending a shocking wave of pain through her that only seemed to make her come harder. Her eyes finally fluttered closed, an involuntary response she couldn’t fight, and tears slid down her cheeks as the oblivion took her under.
Wyatt’s own release was silent, but she felt the unspoken shout in his brutal grip on her thigh, in the shudder of his body. His cock swelled inside her, pulsing and pulsing as if he was determined to give her everything, every damn ounce of his being. Then, finally, he slipped out of her, letting her legs ease back to the cushions, and he bowed forward, laying his cheek to the space between her breasts and panting.
She laid her head back to stare at the sky, her jaw going slack and releasing the towel.
This time she didn’t have the energy to run.