Before she could even blink, he yanked the other strap down her free arm, then slung the lacy garment over one of the bedposts. She lay before him in nothing more than a small, sheer pair of panties and a nervous smile as he restrained her other wrist to the bed with a sure click.
Bailey’s heart leapt into her throat. Was she ready for this? Could she really handle him? Joaquin played like a fantasy in her head, but reality . . .
“Relax,” he murmured. “I’m going to be all over you. There won’t be an inch on your body that I haven’t touched when we’re done. But I won’t hurt you.”
Physically, she wasn’t worried. Emotionally? Was she that girl who couldn’t sleep with a guy without caring more than a little? Prom hadn’t counted really. She’d had a huge crush on Ryan and she’d been slightly tipsy. Buying into the fantasy that they were some dream, meant-to-be couple while she’d been trussed up in white and he’d worn a tuxedo had been awfully easy. Giving herself to Joaquin was something she’d chosen while stone-cold sober. Not for a moment did she imagine they had a future. Tonight, she could give in to the pleasure, give herself a reason to smile when winter turned the skies cold, and enjoy being touched by a man who knew his way around a woman. It was sex, pure and simple.
“I know.”
His gaze caressed her, reassuring and rewarding at once. Then his stare skittered down her body, caressing every trembling swell and every shadowy dip. He lingered on the stab of her nipples, still straight and swollen, all but begging. Joaquin dragged his fingertips down her skin in a light caress designed to make her shiver. Into his touch, she arched.
He cupped her breast, his palm swallowing her flesh. With a slow slide, he brushed his thumb over the tip. Bailey’s breath hitched. Her whole body tensed.
“Sensitive nipples. I love that. Boobs are great, but the point of them is the nipples—literally. I can’t wait to torture these and drench your little panties. Unless . . . Are you already wet, baby girl?”
With an inquiring brow raised at her, his fingers began the inevitable slide down her belly. The dim lighting had hidden the fact that he’d aroused the hell out of her—until now. All he had to do was get his fingers over that silk and he’d know how much he turned her on.
“Wait!”
He paused, his palm hovering just over her navel. “If you’re scared or upset, we’ll figure it out. If you’re hiding from me, that’s not going to fly. Do we have a problem?”
“I-I . . .” She blew out a breath. Bailey didn’t understand the panic washing through her. Wasn’t the point for him to arouse her so she could get wet and they could have sex? “No. Not a problem.”
“Perfect. Tell me to feel your panties.”
The low rumble of his voice, coupled with his mesmerizing gaze, compelled her. Letting him know that he’d aroused her gave him power. But she’d had underwhelming sex once. Now she wanted to be turned inside out.
Bailey swallowed, gathering her courage. “Feel them. T-touch me.”
Something in his expression gentled for an instant before his eyes narrowed and the predator in him came out to play. His fingertips made contact with her overheated skin again. She jolted at his touch. Every time he put a hand anywhere on her, she felt him all through her body. Why? How could he do that to her?
None of that mattered as his touch slid down, down, easing over the lace waistband of her panties, then inched even lower. Finally, he grazed the silken fabric, now thoroughly drenched by her arousal.
He applied more pressure with a low, appreciative moan. “That’s wet. So sweet. I can’t wait to put my mouth right here . . .” He rubbed a little circle over her clit. “And you’re hard, too. You’re ready to come, aren’t you?”
Bailey arched into his touch, hoping to deepen the pressure.
Instead, he eased off. “Answer the question.”
With a mindless whimper, she pulled at the cuffs, tried to lift her hips—anything. He withdrew completely. “Bailey?”
“Yes. I want to.”
“Tell me in a complete sentence.”
“You’re making me wait,” she accused.
He nodded. “Just like I’m making sure I know exactly what you’re willing to let me do.”
If she hadn’t been so turned on, Bailey knew she’d be mortified. But just the promise of his fingers dancing over her sensitive bundle of nerves again was all she needed to push past her embarrassment. “Please make me come.”
“Such sweet begging. I’ll definitely consider it. Soon.”
His words barely registered before he rolled on top of her and captured her mouth in a demanding press, spreading her lips wide with his own, without patience or apology. With the kiss, he seemed to take her entire body. She felt suspended by a thickening line of desire. It held her afloat, against him, breath held, waiting . . .
Bailey lost herself in the skillful slide of his lips, the urgent surge of his tongue. She curled her fingers into fists, wishing she could touch him, bring him closer—something that would ease the ache now throbbing deep behind her clit.
Joaquin tore his mouth away, breathing heavily as he stared down into her eyes. “I don’t know why the fuck you get to me this way. I wasn’t meant to touch you. I never took you from your life with the intent to hustle you into bed.”
To most, she would probably have no reason to believe him. But she did.
“I never thought I’d trust you,” she admitted. “Then you were honest with me.”
He grimaced. “I was harsh. I’m sorry about that.”
“Make it better?” she asked breathlessly.
“It’s on.”
The words had barely cleared his mouth before he clasped his lips around her nipple. Easing to her side, he didn’t let go, just drew her in more deeply. She groaned through the suction, her legs shifting restlessly, parting.
Joaquin didn’t have to be tempted or coaxed. He glided his fingers unerringly back to her clit as he nibbled at the hard crest of her breast again. The double-punch stole her breath. Her sex gushed with moisture, more than ready to ease his path deep inside her.
The teasing circles of his fingers didn’t speed up. He didn’t press harder. Instead, his touch was a never ending taunt, a burning pleasure that built toward an incendiary explosion. The little catches of her breath seemed to excite him more. The erection he pressed to her thigh only grew thicker, harder. Damn, she wanted that.
Under his touch, the throbbing rushed up, crowding her senses. A surge of euphoria momentarily robbed her sanity. Bailey cried out.
“That feel good?”
“That was great.” Far better than anything she’d ever given herself. It definitely surpassed anything Ryan Fuller had given her on prom night.
“Was?”
She hesitated. “Yeah. The orgasm is over.”
Joaquin sent her a wolfish laugh. “That wasn’t an orgasm.”
“Of course it was.” It had to be. The edge of the pleasure now wasn’t quite as sharp as it had been. What else could it have been?
“Is that what you think?” He lifted his fingers from her needy bud.
Instantly, demand slammed her as desire returned full force. She gasped and looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Exactly,” he growled. “Why would you think you’d had an orgasm?”
“I-I’ve never . . .” God, how embarrassing to realize that he knew more about her body than she did.
“Never? Was your last lover totally inept?”
Pretty much. She hadn’t known it at the time, but they’d been the blind leading the blind, so the confusion made sense. “Inexperienced.”
He kissed the side of her breast. “Oh, the things I’m going to do to you.”
The thought made her feel faint. Already, he’d done far more than she’d ever experienced. And if he gave her more pleasure than she was acquainted with, well, then . . . wow.
“Can we hurry?”
“Oh,
impatient. I don’t know, baby girl. You were prepared to make me wait.”
But she’d waited her whole life. Joaquin alone had been honest about her identity. Now he was showing her genuine pleasure between a man and a woman. “I was wrong.”
“You were.” He nodded. “You can make it up to me by asking me to remove your panties.”
Bailey ached to shove them down herself, but with her hands tethered to the bed that was impossible. “Take my panties off. Please. Now.”
“Hmm.” He rubbed the firm square of his jaw, pretending deep thought. “That was more impatience than sincerity.”
“I mean it. I need it.” She was begging and she didn’t care anymore. Pride was nothing in the face of this ache. Bailey hated that he’d been able to undo her so easily, but honestly, had she expected to keep up with him? No.
“I’m teasing,” he assured her, then took hold of the lace around her waist and slowly began dragging the scrap of fabric down.
The chilly air hit her hip bones before he paused just above her mound. Her entire body tensed as she waited, wanted. But he dragged it out, making her guess if he would continue, when he’d decide. Finally, he tugged the silky bit down and pushed them to her knees before anchoring a foot in the crotch. He kicked down to finish the job.
Bailey didn’t watch that, just saw his gaze zero in on her swollen sex. She felt his stare like an actual touch. Everything sensitive between her legs surged and leapt, pouting and anticipating.
He dragged a knuckle down her slick, smooth lips. “You’re bare.”
“I have to wax. My costumes are sometimes thin and pale. Revealing. I’m sorry if you’re disappointed—”
“Fuck no.” That finger of his skated over her wet flesh again, making her stomach knot, her desire ratchet up. “I love it. Spread your legs.”
“Why?” Her voice shook. The idea both terrified and aroused her.
“Because I asked you to. If I can’t see your pussy, I can’t look at it and think about all the dirty, perfect ways I’m going to eat it.”
Bailey literally couldn’t breathe.
“I . . .” The rest of the sentence wouldn’t materialize. She probably looked like an idiot with her jaw hanging open. And yes, she knew that men did that to women every day, but not her.
“Is that a yes?” He laved her nipple, his hazel eyes drilling into hers, darkening and heating as he did.
“Yes.” The sound came out more like a panting breath than a word.
“Good. Soon. First, I want to really make you come and watch your face.” He dipped his head again and affixed his mouth to the other nipple, sucking rhythmically as his finger zipped back down her belly and stopped just above her aching sex. “Spread your legs. I won’t ask again.”
Bailey didn’t hesitate. If she’d never had a real orgasm, then she wanted one. And she wanted Joaquin to give it to her. If he was going to drown and overwhelm her anyway, she might as well go big or go home.
He chuckled. “That’s perfect, baby girl. I like you eager for my touch. I want to make you just as eager to fuck.”
“Do you talk like this to every woman?”
Joaquin cocked his head, clearly considering. “I usually don’t say anything. Somehow I can’t not talk to you. Not sure what’s up with that. Does it bother you?”
She shook her head. “I love it.”
“I can’t promise it will last once we’re really busy, but . . . yeah. I like rattling you with a few words. Did you know you blush? Your skin is so fair, you flush rosy all over. That turns me on.”
Heat crawled up her cheeks, and she laughed. “Like this?”
“Exactly.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, to her jaw, then trailed his lips all around her nipples. Before she could protest, his fingers dipped into her furrow again, skimmed directly over her clit.
Bailey gaped and tightened, whimpering when he didn’t stop.
He inserted a finger inside her next, his thumb still strumming the little bead of nerves above. “Jesus, Bailey . . . You’re tight and sweltering. I can’t wait to get my cock inside you.”
She didn’t answer, couldn’t even find her voice or her brain. She finally stopped fighting the inevitable and gave herself over to the explosive pleasure he wrung from her.
As he added another finger inside her, Joaquin prodded a spot deep, then worked her clit in smaller circles, teasing more than pressing. Always making her ache and wait. But the need built and escalated, clawing at her until her head swam. Until her belly tightened and her thighs trembled. Until she held her breath in desperate need of his next stroke.
The crescendo of ecstasy just kept soaring. Dizziness assailed her. Desire screamed inside her just waiting for one more touch . . .
“You’re so fucking sexy. Now you’re going to come. Do it . . . for me.”
Chapter Twelve
JOAQUIN gritted his teeth, watching that sexy flush make Bailey’s entire body turn rosy. He’d wondered for a seeming eternity how she’d look and sound as she came. He sucked her nipple back into his mouth and tugged as his fingers prodded the spots that had her hitching breath becoming gasps. She cried out—a high-pitched, panicked sound fraught with need and the loss of control. Her eyes went wide, her stare crashing into his and begging. She went straight to his cock.
Holy fuck, she was going to unravel him.
With her next wail, she clamped around his fingers, her clit turning to stone under his thumb. She pulsed and bucked, riding the wave of orgasm—the sort she’d never had in her life. Knowing he was the first man to show her that pleasure, imagining that he might be the only man to ever give it to her, drove him dangerously to the edge.
“Joaquin . . .” She mewled his name as her back arched.
He didn’t let up, continuing to stimulate her all the way through the crest of the peak, then letting her down gently until she panted up at him, her blue eyes so full of wonder. Christ, his chest felt like it was going to burst. His heart filled with something he couldn’t explain. The rest of him swelled with pride because tonight he wasn’t just a man, but the man she needed.
Where the fuck was all that coming from?
A long gasp for air later, a sweet sigh fell from her lips. A sated blush suffused her. Her body went limp, her eyes dreamy.
“That was an orgasm.” She wore a loopy little smile.
“It was.” He swallowed, trying to beat back the need to strip off his jeans and fuck her in the next ten seconds. But logically knowing she needed to recover and being able to give her the time? Not the same thing—and not easy.
“I want you so damn bad, Bailey.” He gave her clit a gentle prod that made her twist up and whimper. When she spread her legs a little wider, silently asking him for more, Joaquin knew he had her again. Now she would be all his.
“Yes . . .” She shifted restlessly, still drunk from the stimulation and the release of dopamine, hormones, and endorphins.
“Tell me to fuck you.” His growled words came out rough. It was all he could manage. He probably should have told her that he wanted to make love to her. But where Bailey was concerned, he couldn’t seem to find patience or restraint. He wasn’t even sure he’d know his own damn name again until he’d filled her with his cock and found the oblivion of release.
His choppy breathing only turned more ragged as he waited for her answer. She blinked and tried to focus. Her lips parted, glossy, swollen, red. Then she thrust her hips up at him.
Jesus, she was going to kill him if he didn’t get inside her