“The Dealer.”
“Nah. Sounds like a hitman.” He knocks my feet apart with his knee, a grin on his lips. “Wider.”
Fuck. That’s hot. I resist the urge to slam my eyes shut. I imagine him giving the same command with us naked and me bent over in front of him. “Dirty Dealer,” I breathe out on a tight exhale.
His jaw tenses, and he nods, letting out a sound of what must be agreement, though it also could moonlight as a tortured growl.
He drops to his knees and widens my stance even further, affixing my ankles in their own ties so I’m spread wide, my lower half resembling the bottom of an X. I still have one hand free and the urge to run my fingers through his hair is almost too much. There’s something about the length of it, the slight curl at the ends, that begs for my touch.
When both ankles are secure, he glances up, his eyes molten with desire under his dark lashes. “Too tight?” The look in his hungry gaze steals my breath and I swear if I weren’t fastened to the wall, I’d fall over.
All I can do is nod my chin.
He doesn’t break eye contact as he rises to his full height. It’s as if an invisible band tightens between us, drawing him closer with each passing second. Want. Desire. Need. Emotion undeniable and real coils in the space between us until we’re practically sharing the same breath.
If someone had told me last week that I’d be tied to a wall of a sex club, begging for a man I’d known less than two weeks to kiss me, I’d have thought they were crazy. Now. Now, that didn’t sound crazy at all. It sounded just about perfect.
In a move that I think shocks us both, I grip the fabric of his tie with my free hand and tug him so his chest is completely pressed to mine. “Kiss me.”
He licks his lips, his gaze darting to mine. “I’m supposed to be the Dom in this situation.”
He’s so close.
I strain forward, but because of the ties I can’t quite reach him. “Well, you’re doing a poor job.”
“Are you questioning my competency as your Dirty Dealer?” His lips kick up at the edges. His jaw scrapes along mine as his mouth goes to my ear. “I may have to spank you for that.”
Heat spreads to my core. “Promise?”
“Fuck, Rachel.” Jude pulls back and swallows thickly, as if he’s trying to fight this pull between us. I don’t know why, but I’d like for him to let go and give in already. His gaze levels mine, and the depths of his eyes appear almost as tortured as his words. “What are you doing to me?”
“The same thing you’re doing to me.” Honesty. I know he wants me. I saw evidence of that the other night. I want him too. In this moment, there’s nothing I’d like more. “Kiss me, Jude. Please.”
He leans closer, his body big and pressed to mine. “I like hearing you beg.” He shifts his hips forward and I feel how much so.
“Don’t get used to it,” I say, but there’s no fight left to my voice. Not when he’s going to give me exactly what I want. What we’ve both been fighting and denying.
His lips crush against mine, and we’re kissing. Oh, God. We’re kissing. Finally. It’s as if something shatters inside. Control. But also the fear that’s held me back from taking what I want, what I’ve been wanting. Him.
I thread my free hand around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer. Like everything about us, it’s a battle, full of push and pull, taking and receiving. My entire body lights up, energy pulsing and ready to unleash. The sensation of being tied up only enhances the pleasure of his lips on mine. I tug at his hair and he releases a groan that goes straight to my clit. Fuck. I want to come so badly, I might actually cry if I don’t find release.
As if he understands my frustration—or maybe he’s as eager to move this forward—Jude’s palms caress the sides of my body. One grabs the fleshy part of my hip, his fingers digging into my skin and making me gasp. “Fuck, yes. Rachel,” he whispers, and his other hand strokes up to my breast, kneading it over the fabric of my blouse and bra.
My nipples peak into buds that ache for his mouth. “We’re wearing too many clothes,” I say between kisses.
His deep, throaty chuckle scatters goose bumps over my flesh and a tingle down my spine.
“Need any help?” The Mistress’s voice interrupts from across the room like a bucket of unexpected ice water.
Jude takes a quick step back and the heat of Jude’s body disappears in an instant. His gaze drops to the space between us as he answers her. “No, thanks.”
Damn it. My eyes close as the erotic spell of this room is broken. Not that I want our first time to be inside a sex dungeon, but hell, I could’ve kissed him forever on this wall.
“Five minutes. I have the room booked for another private session on the hour. Sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry at all. Selfishly, I wish Jude would pay her to go away. Bribe her and book the room for another twenty minutes, just so he can kiss me. It’s stupid and irrational, but I think it all the same.
“We better . . .” He doesn’t finish or meet my gaze, his hand dropping to his trousers to adjust himself. I’m frustrated, but he must be in pain.
“Uh . . .” I reach up to the fastener on my opposite wrist, but it’s not possible. “A little help, please.”
“Right.” He scrubs a hand over his face and steps forward to do it for me. “Sorry.” Neither of
