She had a brief impression of a big bed covered in a hunter green quilt and heavy mahogany furniture before he slammed her against the wall with a growl. Despite the violence of his movements, she didn’t fear that he would hurt her; he’d made sure to cushion her head against his hand as she hit the wall, absorbing the brunt of the impact on her bottom. Her giggles tapered off to moans as he pulled his jacket from her shoulders and ripped her shirt from her body in a loud snarl of tearing silk.
He immediately pulled one breast tip into his mouth and bit down, sending electric currents of pain through her body that somehow rebounded into pleasure. As he sucked and nibbled on each breast, she ran her fingertips over his face, his shoulders, his lips where they met her skin. She desperately wanted him naked against her, to feel his skin in the real world pressed to her own.
Bryan tried to battle the frenzy that consumed him, but he’d have better luck commanding the sun not to rise. Having Tanwen up on stage with him for his demonstration had been a big mistake. Every time he’d done the demonstration before, it had been with women he didn’t know or who were just friends.
With Tanwen, it had been different. He evidently cared for her more than he was ready to admit, even to himself. The connection he’d experienced with her while they were doing the demonstration was deeper than anything he’d felt in years. When he looked at Tanwen, he didn’t see someone he could have some fun with, then part ways when things got too serious. No, she was the kind of woman he and his friends used to call a “keeper” when they were teenagers. The kind of woman a man could see himself being happy with for the rest of his life.
As he’d talked about his late wife, he couldn’t help but want to gather Tanwen into his arms and hold her warmth to him. The thought of losing her like he’d lost Katie had started an irrational fear he’d had to battle every moment of their exam. He’d found himself fighting the idea of losing Tanwen to illness or an accident or any of the thousands of bad things that happened every day to good people.
He was pretty sure he held it together enough so the audience didn’t notice, but with every touch of Tanwen’s soft skin, he’d had horrible flashbacks of feeling the lump in his wife’s breast. Though he’d managed to get through the exam without breaking down, it had been close. When his search had revealed nothing but normal, healthy tissue in Tanwen’s breasts, a relief so profound had washed through him until he’d been in danger of falling to his knees. Though they’d only known each other for a brief time, that didn’t stop his territorial instincts from demanding that she was his. That every gasp of pleasure and sigh belonged to him alone.
Grief was a funny thing. A person would think they were over it, that life had moved on and they were going to be okay; then it would sneak up on them and rip the rug from beneath their feet. The trust with which Tanwen submitted to him made it at once better and worse. In a normal demonstration, he would have taken the sub to orgasm afterward as part of her reward. Instead he’d hustled Tanwen out of there, determined to be the only person with the right to see her pleasure. He was almost frantic to be inside of her, to prove in the most primitive way possible that they were both healthy and alive.
Now he tried to make up for his haste, pulling back on his runaway emotions and forcing himself to pay complete attention to her body. He wouldn’t be doing either of them any good if he didn’t get his head in the right space. A hint of the vanilla-flavored oil from the exam still clung to her skin, and he licked her breasts, long rasps of his tongue that had her shuddering against him. When her fingers curled into the back of his hair and tugged him closer, he took a deep breath of her scent, rubbing his cheek against the warmth of her skin.
“Bryan,” she said in a husky voice as he clamped his teeth down on her nipple, biting it until it went from a soft, flushed pink to a bright red.
He knew right now he should be concentrating on blowing her mind with an intense scene, but his emotions were too raw for that. He needed to wrap her surrender around himself, to soothe his wounded spirit with her gentleness, to use her pleasure as his balm.
Scooping her into his arms, he carried her over to the bed and switched off the bedside light so the only illumination came from the dim light on the desk across the room.
Her eyes grew wide as she looked up at him, and something vulnerable moved through their depths. She reached up for him, and he stepped back, shaking his head. While he may not bring out all the toys he planned to use on her tonight, he was a dom, and that carried through to every aspect of his lovemaking. With a start he realized that was what he wanted, what he was trying to do. He didn’t want to have sex or fuck; he wanted to make love to this beautiful woman.
“Hands above your head, little flame. You can grasp them together or hold on to the sheets, but I want them up.”
She complied quickly, and he enjoyed how her pupils dilated as her slender fingers clasped together. A fine tremor ran through her body as he removed his shirt and tossed it onto the dresser. Male pride surged through him as she inspected his body. He knew he looked good for his age and was glad the hard work he did with his construction company kept him in decent shape.
Speaking of looking good, the deep green of the comforter brought out the flush that traveled over her cheeks as her gaze dipped to the noticeable erection tenting the front of his dress pants. She licked her lips, and his cock twitched in response as her surrender to his demands helped him put a leash on the urge to just bury himself within her heat.
The bed sagged beneath his weight as he helped her shimmy out of her pants, leaving her clad only in a silky lilac thong that rose high on her full hips. She stiffened beneath his gaze, and he watched her struggle to keep her hands above her head.
“What is the hardest part about holding your hands up, little flame?” He thought he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear her say it.
“I’m fine,” she automatically said and bit her lip when he gave her a narrow-eyed look. “Okay, well maybe I’d feel a bit more comfortable if you’d turn that light off please, Sir.”
The smoothness of her skin delighted his senses as he ran his hands up her legs, pausing to massage her tense thigh muscles before moving up to her hips and gripping them. “Tanwen, you are gorgeous. This softness, it gives a man something to hold on to.” Her lips tightened, and she subtly tried to pull away from his hands. “I’m a big, hard man. I don’t want to lie against someone who feels like another big, hard man—or worse yet, a woman that feels like a sack of bones beneath me.” He nuzzled her belly, laying his cheek against the softness. “I want a woman with curves in my bed. A deliciously soft female whose body cushions mine.”
Her breath came out in a soft shudder as he licked along the edge of her panties. “I want a woman that will share a hot fudge sundae with me on a warm summer day without whining about her thighs. I want a woman who doesn’t get bitchy because she’s constantly starving.”
He cupped her mound, sealing his hand over her heat and pressing his palm down on her silk-covered clit. “Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, Sir.” Her buttocks tensed as he reached down and stroked over her slit, the cloth wet with her juices.
With a gentle tug, he eased her panties down her legs before holding them to his face and inhaling her scent. The musk of her desire traveled right to his cock with a ball-clenching pound. She flushed again, but her lips lost their tightness. Tossing the scrap of damp silk over to the side, he sat back on his haunches and admired the way her breasts moved with her breath.
“Spread your legs for me.” She hesitated, and he added some strength to his words, making it a command. “Now.”
With evident reluctance, she did as he said, moving her legs apart until her glistening labia appeared.