Page 13 of Unbound Boxset

CHAPTER FIVE

The door closed behind him.

Grant turned. They stared at each other from across the cheap carpet in the hotel bedroom. The lighting cast a half glow over the queen-sized bed, muting the furniture and the walls and everything else that existed. The heat between them rose…simmered…pulled…

“Take off your clothes.” His demand was rough, controlling. She shivered. His grace and gentleness all day in the studio vanished, leaving a hungry sexual male predator who wanted all aspects of power. She recognized her physical soul mate, recognized the sheer need within her core to be the one in charge, to be the one who held the command and made her lover bend beneath her and melt to her sexual will.

Tonight, she was a creature of surrender.

Ariel poised on the edge of an ancient discovery and fought the fall. “I want to see you. I want⁠—”

He took a step forward. His voice whiplashed across the room. “I won’t ask you again. Take off your clothes, Ariel.”

The woman a few days ago would have laughed and walked across the room, confident in her nature of dominance. That woman would pull off Grant’s shirt, massage his erection, and make sure her rules were followed.

Ariel hesitated. He watched her with a fierce command. Waited for her surrender.

She reached up and unbuttoned her green satin blouse. Unhooked her pants and let them slide down her legs. Her fingers trembled as she pulled down her red lace panties but his nod of encouragement kept her going. She hadn’t been wearing a bra, so her breasts felt heavy and ripe immediately under the heat of his gaze. She stood before him, naked, and waited.

A pleased smile curved his lips and he seemed to relax. He crossed the room and stopped in front of her, his hands lifting to unhook her hair from the clip, and combed his fingers through the silky, straight strands. Murmuring low endearments as if to soothe a frisky mare, his hands began a slow exploration of her body. Using the lightest touch, he teased each nipple to a tight red bud. Stroked the flat lines of her stomach, her hips, and up and down the length of her spine. All the while he touched her, he kept whispering erotic demands, for her to relax and submit to him, until his voice in her ear was like an aphrodisiac, and her eyes half closed as she gave herself completely up to the sensation of being under his control. He traced the line of pubic hair, brushing with the barest of touches, giving her teasing glimpses of his finger against her swollen folds and growing wetness. Ariel moaned and opened her legs for him for better entry.

Grant rewarded her submission by giving her more. His head bent and he took her nipple in her mouth, sucking hard and deep, his tongue flicking the hard nub back and forth. A cry of need built in her belly and tore out of her mouth, and he laughed deep, one fully clothed leg nudging her ankles fully apart so she was completely exposed to him while he remained covered.

Ariel gulped for air and fought the last moments of her surrender. “No,” she gasped. “Take off your clothes. Let me take you in my mouth, I want to feel you.”

His teeth carefully bit her nipple in punishment. A mingle of pain and fierce pleasure shook through her. “My rules, baby. No more talking. Just let yourself go and give me everything you have. I want it. I can take it.”

And with that, his fingers plunged hard between her legs.

Ariel screamed as the orgasm ripped through her and she convulsed around his fingers. He never stopped or paused to allow her breath. As she toppled, his thumb stroked and played with her clitoris and he used his knee to push her thigh upward, high against the wall so his palm could stroke over her swollen, wet lips and tease her back to the edge. One peak climbed to the next. Her head thrashed against the wall as she fought the delicious agony, the sheer powerlessness of his hands and mouth and teeth in control of her every will, every feeling.

He slid down her body and replaced his hands with his mouth. He held her wide with his thumbs so her pussy was completely open, and his tongue licked and sucked at her clit, making her swell and drip with wetness, and he massaged her vulva with that hot tongue until the orgasm came again.

Sometime in the midst of the sexual frenzy, he moved her to the bed. Limbs exhausted and sated, her mind foggy, she realized he had removed his clothes and donned a condom. Her gaze took in his lean litheness and dark hair swirling over olive skin, the hard, thick erection between his thighs, the power and grace he used in class to instruct now focused completely on her pleasure. He used his body on her mercilessly, his skin hot against hers, as he flipped her on her stomach and separated her buttocks, his tongue licking again at her center, separating her and lifting upward so she had no defenses against his whim.

His hard cock pushed in and took her from behind. He thrust deep, in a slow, steady rhythm calculated to drive her insane, keeping her final climax from coming with a determination and will she had never glimpsed in a man. He brought her to the edge over and over, backing off with his thrusts and pausing as he laughed when she thrashed and bucked, trying to make him do it, come inside of her, as she yelled his name.

Her demands became brokenhearted pleas as the sexual torture went on and she felt slowly driven insane. Her clit swelled from the friction and she reached hard for the edge, for satisfaction, until he slowed his thrusts while his hands massaged her heavy breasts. Teasing. Playing. Starting all over again.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his voice as rough as sandpaper against the sensitive shell of her ear. His tongue licked and bit at her earlobe, the curve of her neck, biting deep like a vampire.

“Please make me come,” she begged, her pride and sanity long gone. “Grant, I need you, I need you…”

With a rough growl, he drove inside of her again, allowing her to hover at the edge, and with a final thrust, she let go, the spasms of release holding and shaking her body in tremors, his name breaking over lips. She heard his distant shout as he reached his own release. Then he lifted and rolled her, tucking her body against every crevice of his and sleep came and overtook them both.

* * *

“Are you awake?”

Ariel roused from sleep, her limbs heavy. One leg tangled between his hard thighs. Her breasts pressed against his muscled back. Darkness enfolded the room except for the sliver of moonlight leaking through the gap in the drapes. His husky voice reached out and caressed her ears.

“No. I’m dead.”

His chest moved under her palm and she knew he was laughing at her. “I’m disappointed. I thought you had more stamina.”

“If I had a white handkerchief, I’d wave it in the air. Thank God I don’t have to demonstrate any postures tomorrow. I’m lucky to walk.”

He moved so he faced her. His gaze was deep and dark as he smoothed back the wild strands of hair from her face. “I’m giving you the evening off from class tomorrow.”