26. Twenty-Six

Twenty-Six

T he sound of running water coming from the en suite indicates I've got a little time to think out my plan. I check that my secret weapon is still hidden away in the bedside drawer. Then, I hurry into the wardrobe and change into brand-new lace underwear. It's white with black lace detailing—sexy but feminine—and Art hasn't seen it before. If anything's going to help distract him and give me a little time to do what I need to do, it will be this get-up.

The shower stops running. I throw another glance at my bedside drawer to check it's closed and push open the door to the en suite. Art stands with his back to me, dripping wet, rubbing a towel through his hair. Desires got a chokehold on my heart as I admire his broad, muscular back and the firm buttocks I'm itching to sink my fingernails into. But I'll have to wait.

He shifts round and notices me watching him. His heated gaze drags up the length of my body in appreciation. "No breakfast? "

"I changed my mind. I decided I want your sort of breakfast after all."

"Good." He chucks the towel down on the bathroom counter and paces towards me, his eyes locked on me.

I shift back into the bedroom, but he's too fast. He's on me in a heartbeat, pushing me backwards, sending us crashing onto the bed. He showers my face with kisses, his hands earnestly pulling at my underwear as he plants his thighs in between mine. I feel his erection press into my stomach.

Shit.

I need to take things down a gear. In a couple more moves, he'll be inside me. Then, it's game over.

Focus, Sophie.

"Slow down."

"You're asking the impossible," he says, still kissing me.

"Savour it."

His mouth curls into a smile against my lips, and he hums in agreement. "I like the sound of that too."

To my delight, he rolls me over, so I'm on top, playing directly into my hands without even realising. Now, I just need to make sure I stay here long enough to secure the asset in place. I draw my fingers through his thick hair and pull his lips to mine, kissing him hard and deep because I want him seeing stars. His hands slide up my back and rest on my shoulders, exactly where I need them to be.

My mind springs to my next move. I just need to go for it. Keep him distracted with hot, heavy kisses as long as I can. But I need to act fast. I'll only get one chance at this. If I mess up, the tables will undoubtedly turn on me.

I carefully feel my way across the bed and slide my hand into my bedside drawer, closing my hand around my secret weapon. I give myself a second. This is how huntsmen must feel when they're about to capture a lion in the wild.

Just go for it.

One, two, three …

Before he can register what's happening, I yank his right arm above his head, slide the handcuff around his wrist, and secure it to the slats of the headboard with a satisfying click.

I draw back and straddle his waist, admiring my handwork. Ideally, I'd prefer both hands cuffed, but one's enough to slow him down a bit.

He tilts his head to look at the cuff and frowns. "What the fuck is this?"

I fold my arms determinedly. "Handcuffs. I'm taking control for a change."

"By cuffing me?"

"It's the only way. Besides, you said you weren't against me taking control."

The frown remains etched on his brow as he tugs at the fluffy black handcuff, which, I'm relieved to see, stays in place.

"Where the hell did you get them from?"

"The club," I reply sheepishly.

It takes him a few seconds to realise what I'm referring to. He lifts an eyebrow. "Savage? You mean, you stole them?"

I shrug guiltily. "There were loads in that cupboard. They won't miss one little pair. Besides, yours are like something the cops would use."

He's not amused. "You know, you should always ask your partner for permission before using restraints on them."

"What if your partner wouldn't agree to it?"

"Then, you don't do it."

I smirk. "Even if you know your partner will enjoy what you've got planned?"

His eyes darken as his mind races at what's about to come.

"All you need to do is trust me a bit more."

His eyes roam over my body, his breathing deepening as he gets used to the idea. "I do trust you."

"Then, we don't have a problem, do we?"

I'm done with talking.

I close my palm around his erection and lightly run my thumb across the damp tip, silencing him .

His eyes shutter closed, and he draws in a deep breath, tightening in my palm. He's as hard as stone already, and I haven't even started.

The sight of him laid out on the bed, naked, turned on, and restrained makes me ache. I've got the power. I'm in control. I'm going to bring him to his knees, like he's done so many times to me. And I'm going to enjoy it.

His eyes snap open as I remove my hand and get up, moving to stand at the end of the bed.

"I need to touch you."

I reach around, unfasten my bra, and fling it over my shoulder. "That won't be possible, I'm afraid," I tease.

I smile sweetly as I shimmy out of my knickers and throw them on the floor. I ignore the groan that falls from his lips at the sight of my naked body.

I crawl up the bed and kneel between his thighs, taking him in my palm once more. I stroke my fingers up and down his smooth shaft, watching him carefully, feeling how his body reacts to me holding the power. Black eyes fix on my hand. His body remains frozen, apart from his chest as his breathing grows shallower. A drop of pre-cum slides down his cock, and I catch it with my fingertip, trailing it back up the shaft. A deep growl comes from somewhere inside him as I put my finger in my mouth and suck. But he's close, and I've only just begun. I don't want him tipping over the edge yet.

I remove my hand from his cock and watch his shoulders relax a touch, but his breathing remains heavy.

"You're killing me."

"But you like it?" I ask, just so we're both clear.

His jaw clenches, as if it's a struggle for him to admit it. "Fuck yes, Sophie."

"Good, because I've not started yet."

He swears under his breath, but as I lower myself down between his legs, he shuts up. I hold the base of his erection and slide him all the way into my mouth. He's tight and hard, and he groans again, closing his eyes, as if the sight of me doing this is too much for him to take. I slide him out once and then take him deeper, swirling my tongue around his shaft and feeling him stiffen even more.

"Don't. Fucking. Stop." The three words escape his mouth in a choked cry.

Even now, he's still trying to call the shots. He's not giving up the control that easily.

He needs to be taught a lesson and reminded who's in control.

I crawl up his body and straddle his chest. "You need to calm down a little."

He looks at me through heavy-lidded eyes. "Ride me."

A smile curls at the edges of my lips. He just can't help himself.

I rest my hands on the pillow on either side of his head and lean forward, placing my lips millimetres from his. "I decide how I fuck you. I decide how you come."

He growls in protest and plants his lips on mine, kissing me hungrily, punishingly, trying to take back the little control he's got. I pull away, breathless.

I'm going to even things up. If he wants hard and deep, I'll give him slow and gentle.

I trace my lips across the scruff of his jaw and dart my tongue across his bottom lip, causing him to moan and tip his head back into the pillow, giving me access to his neck. I cover his throat with delicate kisses, feeling his Adam's apple bob beneath my lips as he swallows hard. And my core throbs with the knowledge that I like it. I work my way down his body, my lips guiding the way, clamping around his nipple and sucking him, tasting his clean, showered skin. I feel triumphant as I hear a hiss of protest leave his lips, but he doesn't have a chance to recover. I score a line with my tongue all the way down the centre of his abs to his belly button and feel him tense in anticipation. I lower my eyes to his erection and the small pool of his release that's gathered on his stomach.

He lifts his head off the pillow, a crease in his brow as he watches me, panting … waiting. Waiting for me to go down on him.

So, I don't.

Keeping my eyes locked on his, I lick the pre-cum from his stomach. His head falls back into the pillow with a thud, and his eyes snap shut .

"I can't watch this," he moans, throwing his free hand across his face.

The ball of warmth in my centre builds at his relinquished control.

I move back up his body and straddle his waist, lowering myself down and resting my hands either side of his head. I pull his hand away from his face, and he looks at me.

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

Fire blazes in his eyes. "So much," he rasps.

I shift back ever so slightly, feeling the tip of his cock press against my entrance.

"You like this, don't you? Me being in control."

He runs his tongue across his bottom lip but doesn't reply.

I glance at his free arm and realise he's playing the game. "All this time, you could have touched me, but you haven't. Because you love it."

"Less talking, more fucking."

He needs to give it up. I'm going to show him who's in charge once and for all.

I sink down onto his erection and watch his eyes roll back in his head as he lets out a contented sigh. My muscles hold his twitching cock inside me as they stretch and adjust to all of him. I close my eyes and stave off every quivering, tensing muscle that's telling me to ride him. Because the feel of us together like this is sensational. We're a perfect fit. Made for one another.

"Ride me."

Focus, Sophie.

I move, so he's no longer inside me.

Fierce black eyes burn into me. "Don't fucking stop."

For a moment, he thinks he's getting his way as I slide back onto his length, taking all of him, fighting my own urges. But as before, I shift upwards and off him.

His whole body tenses, and the fingers of his free hand grip the bed sheets when I stop. "You're going to kill me."

As I take all of him once more, muscles deep inside me ache and throb around his cock.

"I can feel you're close. This is sweet fucking torture," he pants .

I close my eyes to block him out. It's taking all of my self-control to stop myself from riding him.

"Stop fighting it."

Beads of sweat are collecting on Art's brow. I want to ignore him, but next time I sink down onto him, I'm right back up there. I can't do this much longer. I shift forward and grip the headboard.

"Fuck, Sophie," he moans, closing his eyes. "Your tits look edible. I can't be this close and not suck them."

I slowly roll my hips, setting off sparks between my thighs and obliterating that thought from his mind.

He moans in delight. "Fucking hell, yes."

But I can't wait, and neither can he. I speed up, causing the ball of warmth to spread through my body. My skin flushes with desire. My muscles ache with a tension I've never felt before, and my hands clutch the wooden headboard.

He's holding on. Christ knows how, but he is. He's waiting for me. "We go together."

And I go. Hard.

The ball of delicious tension at my centre cracks and consumes me with force, shuddering through me with a scream and leaving me breathless. Art shakes from head to toe as he explodes inside of me, eyes clamped shut. We carry one another through wave after undulating wave of the bone-tingling climax that leaves me shaking with the aftershocks. I'm dizzy and weak. Scared to let go of the headboard in case I collapse.

After a few moments, I open my eyes to see a pair of chocolate-brown eyes watching me.

"I love you."

And now, I feel dizzy for a whole different reason. I dip down to kiss him, and he lifts his head off the pillow to meet me halfway, twisting his cuffed wrist.

"What's up?"

"It's starting to chafe. "

Now, I feel bad. I don't want to hurt him.

I slide off him and lean over, retrieving the key from my bedside drawer. No sooner have I freed his hand than he wraps his arms around my waist and tackles me onto the bed in a bear hug, sliding on top of me.

Amusement flashes in his eyes. "You know you don't get half of anything until we're married."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, I think you were trying to kill me by pulling a stunt like that."

"I'd only cuffed one of your hands to the bed. If you really didn't want to go along with it, you could have stopped me," I say knowingly.

"Maybe I did want to go along with it."

"Are you glad you did?"

He pushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear, considering the question. "It's up there with some of the best sex I've ever had."

I raise my eyebrows, not sure how to react. "Up there? So, it's not the best?"

"No."

I can't help but feel disappointed, and then I immediately feel stupid. I can't deny he's had a lot of sex. Something I don't care to dwell on right now.

"It's joint first with the best sex I've ever had."

Do I feel better? I'm not sure, but either way, I need to know. "So … who was the other with?"

His brows twitch in confusion. "Is that a serious question?"

"Of course it is."

"Fucking hell, Sophie. You, of course." His eyes search my face in disbelief. "That time we'd been to Carluccio's for Martin's birthday." He strokes his fingers across my cheek and smiles at the memory. "You told me you loved me."

My heart swells with emotion. "The first time we made love."

"I knew I felt differently about you, but that night, when you told me that, I realised I loved you too. I just didn't have the balls to say it back at the time. I'd never said it to anyone before. I'd never made love before. "

I heave a contented sigh and wrap myself around him. There's nothing quite like the feel of his body pinning mine to the bed.

He nuzzles his nose into my neck, and we lie there together, enjoying the quiet, until he says, "Do you believe in soul mates?

"Hmm … I'm not sure. Why?"

He lifts his head and looks deep into my eyes, stroking a finger down my cheek. "I didn't. Then, I met you. And now, I do. Because you're mine. We're meant to be together, you and I. We're meant to be together for a lifetime. You're my forever love, Sophie Ward."

Tears well in my eyes as his words capture my heart. "And you're mine."

I close my eyes as he places a light kiss on my right eyelid and then on my left before sliding his lips down to meet mine. He kisses me languidly, his hands in my hair pulling me to him. This … this right here … is true happiness.

We're lost in one another for some time before his phone beeps on the bedside table.

He groans against my mouth at the interruption but doesn't stop kissing me.

There's another beep.

"Should check who it's from?" I prompt, pulling back.

"It's my day off."

"I know, but it could be the hotel."

He grumbles, knowing that I'm right. He reaches out an arm and picks up his phone, tapping the screen. He scans the text, his frown deepening.

"Is it the hotel?"

He doesn't reply and puts his phone back down.

"Well?" I push.

"No, it wasn't the hotel. It was Ash."

I wasn't prepared for that reply. Talk about pouring cold water on a situation.

After yesterday, I thought she would have got the message loud and clear.

"Why? What the bloody hell does she want? "

"She asked how Mum is. And she asked if I was still going to give her a lift to the car garage, like we'd arranged."

The bloody cheek of the woman.

A sardonic laugh falls from my lips. "Is she serious? After what happened yesterday?"

Art considers me thoughtfully for a few seconds. "I'm going to meet her."

"You what?"

"Listen to me, Sophie," he says firmly. "I'm not going to help her sort her fucking car out, but I want to meet her face-to-face and tell her I want nothing more to do with her."

"Really?"

"Really. What she said to you and the way she acted was totally unacceptable—not to mention, a total fucking lie. You were right. She's trying to cause trouble, and I don't give a shit why. All I know is that I'm not going to allow it. No more arguments over her. She's not fucking up the best thing that's ever happened to me."

As he presses his lips to mine, I feel relief. Total and utter relief.