Jennifer Probst - Catch Me

She chewed on her lip. Indecision flickered over her face, but she seemed tempted. He waited with all the patience and calm in the world, knowing she had to trust her gut. “Yes.”

Excitement shimmered in blue depths. Triumph surged through him. He took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

She stopped before the huge bed and swallowed back her instinct to yell stop right then. Her senses swam with the overload of visual and physical indulgence. The luxurious suite closed around her with a pull to follow her baser urges. The huge mirror mounted on the ceiling both fascinated and terrified her. Her body hummed as his fingers intertwined with hers in a firm grip she couldn’t break. Sweat broke over her as she fought the memory of another time, when she had given her trust and found everything turned against her. But for some reason, she trusted him. There was a core of gentleness within his control that spoke to her and promised no pain. Since she had signed up for a one-night experience, she’d push herself to the limits. She needed healing, and maybe the man holding her hand would be the one to finally give it to her.

“Lie on the bed, sweetheart.”

Humiliation washed over her. He’d look at her under the bright lights. His body was perfect and hers was completely damaged. Can I do this in front of practically a stranger ?

He must have sensed her nervousness and dropped a soft kiss on her lips. “Turn off your thoughts and do what I say. I’ll dim the lights.” His voice raked across her ears in a low, hypnotic tone.

She swallowed then obediently climbed onto the high platform bed, laying her head on one of the stuffed pillows. Tugging the hem of the shirt down as far as it would stretch, she waited for his next command.

Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “You look like you’re awaiting an execution rather than my touch.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I told you I’m not good at this.”

“No more speaking. The only word I’ll listen to from now on is ‘stop.’”

As if on cue, a rush of heat sizzled down to her pussy. Her nipples strained against the cotton of his shirt in direct response to his take charge attitude. He nodded as if pleased. Then he stripped.

The black silk shirt slid down his arms and hit the floor. His bare chest was carved and covered with golden brown hair. A thin line snaked down his tight abdomen and disappeared into the waistband of his pants. She held her breath as he paused at his belt. With quick, economic motions, he undid the buckle, slid down the zipper, and shed the material. He stood in a pair of black briefs that did nothing to hide an impressive erection. Instead of fear, she bit back a moan at the idea of having that length tight inside of her. A vibrator just couldn’t compare to the experience of a man’s body, and it had been so long....

His thumbs hooked into his underwear and her heart galloped like a pack of racing thoroughbreds. Then he revealed himself.

She sucked in a breath. Sheer, raw power beat from him in waves. He stalked over to the bed and stood proudly before her. His wolfish grin told her he liked her gaze on his cock and a drop of liquid essence gleamed from the smooth tip.

A surge of feminine satisfaction washed through her. She gripped the silk fabric of the sheets and struggled to process the knowledge that he desired her.

He placed one knee on the edge of the bed and leaned over her. She caught the scent of soap, musk and man. Blond strands framed his face as he bent forward, accenting the hard lines of his cheeks and jaw. Carved lips paused an inch from hers.

“Now it’s your turn.”

He began unbuttoning the shirt. She closed her eyes, dreading the moment of truth when he saw her naked, exposed. How often had her boyfriend called her ugly and maimed? Not worthy of his sexual attention?

“Look at me, Tara.” Her eyes flew open at his commanding tone. “Gaze on me the whole time.” She obeyed, helpless to break away. He undid each button with deliberate slowness, then raised her to guide the fabric over her shoulders.

Her bra and panties were the only barriers left between them. His gaze lingered on the scars—cigarette burns on her shoulders and breasts—the wicked knife cut across her ribs—the ugly, gouged pockmarks on the tops of her thighs. As he looked at her, she imagined her reflection in the mirror, the same one she saw every day, but she didn’t hide from him.

After a while, he lifted his head. Her breath caught.

No revulsion, no shrinking away. Instead, he stroked each nasty mark with gentle fingers. “If I ever catch him, I’ll kill him.” His dark words shocked her system like a thrill ride, but she waited for his erection to wither away from the raw evidence of violence. Waited for him to pity her and turn away.

As if he read her thoughts, his hard length pressed against her in demand. Blistering male desire gleamed from his eyes. She shook under his intense stare, her body hot and needy, and the sudden realization took root deep in her soul.

He still wants me .

With one quick action, he unclasped her bra and removed the straps. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” His fingers traced the curve of her breasts and lingered on the tight tips begging for his touch. He followed one blemish down the valley of her cleavage then lowered his head.

His tongue ran over her skin, wet and hot. Her body jumped like an electrical current, and she arched upward as he licked his way around her breasts. Sensations raked over her and took merciless hold. A whimper escaped her lips. He palmed and plumped both breasts, then his lips closed around one rigid bud.

She cried out his name. The delicious sensation of her nipple rolled around between soft lips, wet tongue and sharp teeth all came together in a mingle of delight. He murmured encouragement as her mind fogged and refused to work, before giving up to the demands of her body. Finally, he lifted his head and looked down. Her swollen flesh begged for more of his attention.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. “Look how responsive you are. How sensitive. Your body was meant for a man’s hands. I can’t wait to see if you taste like strawberries.”

Her hips arched in demand. “Rick?”

He laughed low. “No talking”

He pinched her nipple lightly. Hot currents sizzled down to settle between her thighs. His thumbs flicked the peaks back and forth while his mouth moved downward to kiss her belly. Dipped into her belly button. Nibbled teasingly along the line of her panties, pulling at the edge of the elastic with his teeth. Each time the fabric snapped back, she tightened with anticipation, but he ignored her unconscious pleas and busied himself elsewhere.

He pressed a kiss to the nasty wound on her inner thigh. Used his tongue to sample the crease between her hip and thigh, while his hands moved from her breasts to cup her ass. Through the barrier of fabric, he settled his open mouth on her core. Took a deep breath—and blew.

She shot up and cried his name. His moist breath teased her pounding clit. He pushed her back on the bed and took the top of her panties between his teeth. Inch by inch, he pulled them down.

Cool air hit her exposed folds. The intense contrast of hot and cold wracked her with raw sensations. Oh, God, when was the last time a man had his mouth on me ? The vulnerability of her position struck her—he had her fully under his control. She stiffened as her mind flashed an array of images. Pain. Humiliation. Betrayal.

“Tara.”

The sound of his voice snapped her away from the memories. His command brooked no argument as he looked up from between her spread thighs.

“Eyes on me.”

His voice told her not to think, dominated every part of her soul, until she couldn’t fight him, and she slipped firmly back into the present. Then he lowered his head.