“It’s to make sure you don’t leave.” Derek dangled them loosely in his hand. “Not until I’m finished with you, anyway.”
Her eyes snapped at his tone. “I thought you were a rule follower,” she said. “This is very naughty, Knight.”
“There are no rules, are there?” Not with them. There never had been.
“The only rule is they can’t go on you.”
“Why not?” He knew why. He wanted her to say it.
“Because then you wouldn’t be able to fuck me.”
Her words slammed into his gut, his eyes squeezing shut for a split second as he fought to control himself. Reese didn’t swear often, but saved it up, then used it when it packed a punch.
Derek ran the cuffs along her thigh, loving the way she jumped in surprise. “Nothing’s going to stop me from doing that, Peaches.”
Even though her breath hitched, Reese managed to ask, “What’s with the nickname? You’ve been calling me Peaches for days.”
Reese’s fingertips found their way into his hair, tugging hard on the much shorter strands, thanks to Claire and her insistence on a haircut. Taking the cuffs down past her knee, he kissed her between the thighs, just above her clitoris.
“It’s because you taste like peaches. Sweet, ripe, juicy good.”
The shiny steel of the handcuffs against her feminine body made Derek ache for more than his cock deep inside her. It made him aware how lonely, how cold his life was, and how warm and soft and rich with laughter Reese was.
Stay. He wanted her to stay. But if he spoke the words that were hovering on the edge of his mouth, dancing around his heart, she would leave.
So instead he clicked a cuff around one of her delicate wrists, his mouth dry, his heart pounding, his muscles taut as she jerked in surprise, her fingers tightening on him, her eyes fluttering shut, her mouth rounded into an O.
Reese was stunned speechless,a rarity for her any day of the week. But her shock came more from her own eager reaction than to Knight’s behavior. He had a little bit of a dominating streak when it came to sex, and she knew that, wasn’t surprised by it.
It surprised her that she liked it, that she craved it, that he made her whimper and claw at him and love every second of it. Reese was used to Knight giving in, indulging her, watching her with amusement when it came to just about everything. Except sex.
Here, he was in control. He made the moves and she gave in, indulged, and watched.
Maybe they weren’t as wrong for each other as she had thought.
This felt nothing but exciting, arousing, safe. The cool steel of the cuffs slid across her skin as he kissed her inner thighs, easing his tongue across her hot flesh, until she wanted to push, to pull, to beg, to absorb him inside her.
He ran the loose cuff across her inner thigh and her breath caught.
When he teased her open with his fingertips, when he ran the steel across her wetness, she didn’t protest. She bit her lip and sucked air in through her nose, the cold hardness against her warm body titillating in a way she wouldn’t have expected. He never pushed it inside her, not even a little, but played with it across her like he would with his finger or his cock, brushing back and forth, teasing her clit until she squirmed.
“I want you,” she begged, reaching down his chest, trying to pull him up, free him from his jeans before she died of want.
“Are you sure?” he asked, giving her a smirk as he stood up, moving his hands away from her. “Because I thought you had to leave.”
Reese went for his zipper, the dangling cuff brushing over denim. “Very funny.”
Knight set his gun down on the end table and exchanged it for a condom.
“What else you got in that drawer? First handcuffs, then condoms . .. are you going to pull out wine and sex toys next?”
He ran one finger over her nipple while he pushed off his jeans with the other hand. “You wish.”
Distracted by his touch on her breast, she couldn’t come up with a single snappy comeback, and settled for reaching under his shirt and feeling his muscles.
He was so damn big, so hard, so everything different from her, that she loved to run her hands across his chest andtwirl her fingers in the soft hair there. His body was becoming familiar to her, and Knight was no longer a stranger, but every thing that she had claimed to not want him to be. He was her friend, her lover, herboyfriend.
For once the word didn’t send her jerking back in horror, but sent a wave of satisfaction rolling through her, so deep, so intense that she wanted to march her suitcase back into Knight’s bedroom and toss her clothes in his drawer.