The Merger

Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

C arys

Gannon takes a set of stairs with ease, with one arm cinched over the backs of my legs to hold me in place. His other hand massages the apple of my cheek where he cracked me moments ago. The feeling of his fingertips against my skin frazzles my brain.

“Did you have fun downstairs?” he asks as we breach the landing. His tone is too calm, too controlled. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

“Yeah. It was fun— ah !”

His palm smacks the same spot as before.

I shouldn’t like this. My pussy shouldn’t get wetter every time his palm strikes my ass … but it does. The last time a man tried to spank me, I punched him in the dick and never spoke to him again. But Gannon has done it twice now and I don’t just like it— I love it . Instead of making me feel helpless, I feel powerful. Safe, even. Desired .

He kicks a door, and it swings open. A blast of cool air caresses my naked body, welcoming me inside. Before I can get acclimated to our new surroundings, Gannon throws me onto the center of a giant bed.

My heart flutters wildly as I scramble to sit up. Nerves ripple low in my belly as he disappears into an en suite with a confident swagger that steals my breath. I watch his back muscles ripple with each step and reality hits me like a ton of bricks.

I’m naked on Gannon Fucking Brewer’s bed.

What the fuck is happening?

I pant, my gaze sweeping through the bedroom.

The walls are a deep, moody gray with a trayed ceiling that hosts recessed lighting. A pair of French doors open onto the second-floor patio I saw when I arrived. There’s a single chair and small table in the corner. Otherwise, the room is sparse.

Until he comes in. Suddenly, there’s no room to spare.

His dark eyes settle on mine as he stalks toward me.

“I thought you forgot I was here,” I say, nearly shivering beneath his stare.

He flashes me a sardonic smile but says nothing.

The soft mattress sinks with his weight as he kneels on the bed. I look up at him eagerly, my body trembling with need, but instead of touching me or kissing me, he licks his own lips.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly.

“Depends on what it is. Do I trust you to mind your own business? No.”

He fights a grin.

“But I apparently trust you enough for other things because I drove myself here, took my own clothes off, and allowed you to carry me to what I’m assuming is your bed.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says.

“You do that.”

He snatches my wrists up in one quick movement. They’re tied together with a long, thin piece of fabric and pulled over my head before I can protest. The knot is so tight I gasp.

“Will you keep your hands up here, or should I tie you to the bed?” he asks, his tone low and gravelly.

I draw in a shaky breath. “I’ll keep them here.”

“If you don’t, I’ll tie your ankles together, too.”

He slides off the bed and stands at the end.

“You know, this sounds like a good time,” I say, writhing with the need to come again. I start to lower my hands, but a stern look from Gannon makes me freeze. “But the lack of touching is starting to be a downer.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

“Thank God.”

He crawls across the mattress, looking like he’s about to devour me. His shoulders flex as he moves, and his biceps tighten beneath the soft lighting. I whimper as he grows closer, and the need to be touched overwhelms me.

“Gannon— hey !”

My arms are tugged backward, pulling my body across the plush comforter. I tip my chin to watch him tie the end of the fabric around a slat on the headboard. Oh, shit . I wiggle against the restraints but it’s no use.

I’m not going anywhere.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my tone a mix of excitement and uncertainty. “I can’t move.”

He smiles devilishly and lowers his face to mine, which makes me moan in anticipation. He presses a hard, deliberate kiss to my lips.

“No, you can’t,” he whispers against my lips. “That’s the point.”

He pushes off the bed and stands, while watching me like a predator would prey.

I’m acutely aware of my situation. Immobile. Vulnerable. Naked. I wait for my self-consciousness to kick in … but it doesn’t.

My nipples peak in response to the chilly room and Gannon’s heated gaze. The ache in my belly is nearly unbearable, fluttering into excited butterflies when his expression shifts.

“My, how the tables have turned,” he says, smirking. “How do you feel right now, Miss Johnson?”

“Wet.”

His smirk grows deeper as he unfastens his pants.

“I’d imagine that you’re feeling … frustrated,” he says, pushing his slacks over his hips. They slide down his muscled thighs and fall to the floor. “Probably a little irritated.”

I force a swallow. “You could fix all of that, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” He grins. “But where’s the fun in that?”

“It would be fun. I promise.”

“You were the one saying how fun it was to get off while your partner— me —was occupied.”

Oh. Fuck.

“I want to try it for myself,” he says, nodding as reality hits me.

This bastard is going to make me suffer.

He disappears into the bathroom again, leaving me tied up and wanting.

“Hey!” I say, tugging on the fabric. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Settle down.” He struts back in the room—sans briefs. “Don’t waste all of your energy yet.”

He stops at the foot of the bed beneath an overhead light that gives me a clear, unobstructed view of all of him.

I hiss a breath as my eyes feast on his cock.

It sticks out in front of him, the swollen head nearly reaching his navel. The shaft is thick, and I imagine wrapping my mouth around it. I can almost taste the saltiness of his cum.

“Please tell me you’re going to fuck me,” I plead.

He shrugs. “I might.”

“ You might ?” My eyes nearly fall out of my head. “You better be kidding.”

“Let’s see how wet you are.”

I drop my knees to the side, opening myself up for him. He chuckles quietly while getting into position between my legs. The sight of him framed between my thighs makes me whimper and I know, without a doubt, I’ll never recover from this night. Please don’t let this be a one and done .

He blows a breath across my swollen nub, before dragging a finger through my slit. I moan and do my best to encourage more. Gannon, though, refuses.

My emotions are all over the place as desire, frustration, and a heightened sense of excitement war inside me. I’ve never seen this side of Gannon before. He’s alive, teasing, amused. He’s actually enjoying himself and that makes this even better.

“Admit it,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. “You’ve been soaked like this for days.”

I wince at the throb between my legs. “How is this not as painful for you as it is for me?”

“Oh, it hurts me, too. But I’m used to it. Every time I see you, my balls ache.”

“ Oh, God .”

I suck in a hasty breath as his tongue parts my pussy. My hips tilt automatically, giving him better access. I try to push against his face, desperate for more, but the fabric binding me to the headboard refuses me that luxury.

“I’ve dreamed of this little pussy,” he says, shoving a finger inside me. “You have no fucking idea how many nights I’ve held my cock in my hand and imagined it was your mouth sliding over it.”

My eyes squeeze closed, absorbing the pleasure of him adding another finger.

“I wonder if it’s as many nights as I’ve gone to bed fucking myself with a vibrator, pretending it was you.”

“Fucking hell, Carys.”

“Harder. Please ,” I beg, the intense longing for an orgasm overtaking me.

“Like this?”

He thrusts his fingers deep inside me, twisting and pulling them out. Over and over, he continues this motion, building me closer and closer to my climax. My breaths go shallow as I brace for impact.

“Okay,” he says, pulling away. “That was enough.”

My head lifts off the bed with my mouth agape. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He smirks, running his tongue along his bottom lip. “Just having some fun.”

“I hate you.”

“You’ve said that before, yet here you are.”

Frantic, I pull my hands but it’s no use.

“Eyes on me,” he says, backing off the bed. “If you look away, it will only get worse for you.”

“This isn’t fun.”

“Yes, it is.” He winks as he reaches down and fists himself. “I learned this trick from you.”

No. No, no, no. I struggle against the binds again.

“Hey,” he says, his voice stern.

I stop, panting.

“If you keep moving or look anywhere but at me, I will ensure you don’t come for the rest of the night. Understood?”

I lie still. My body’s rioting—screaming—desperate for him to stop this madness and satiate me. But as he slides his hand up and down his shaft slowly, from root all the way to the swollen tip, I forget about the chaos inside me. Instead, I watch the hottest man I’ve ever seen jack himself off to me.

“Do you wish you were sucking me right now?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes.”

“Do you wish you could reach out and touch me? That you could feel how turned on I am by you?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Spread your legs and let me see your pussy.”

I do as instructed, spreading my knees as wide as I can. He moves so that he’s lined up with a direct shot of my body. The muscles in his forearms cord as he picks up speed, sliding down to the base to the tip repeatedly.

My clit burns as I watch him grow closer to his orgasm.

“Okay,” I say, barely able to speak through the tightness in my throat. “Point made.”

His jaw flexes, and the vein in his temple throbs as he jerks himself harder.

“Gannon, enough.”

He comes around the side of the bed, biting down on his bottom lip. He grazes my body with his eyes. They sweep over my stomach, across my hardened nipples, and to my mouth.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groans, a bead of sweat glistening on his forehead.

His attention lands on my pussy again as his balls tighten.

I writhe in place, my mouth watering as the tension in the room builds. His breaths are rapid. His hand squeezes tighter around his cock.

He’s going to come.

“You sonofabitch! Don’t you come!”

My breasts grow heavy, and my nipples bead so hard it hurts.

Gannon’s lips part as he stands against the side of the bed. If my hands were free, I could touch him. He towers over me, his beautiful naked body shaking before a rope of cum shoots from the tip of his cock and lands across my belly.

He grunts, tugging on his shaft as lines of jizz splatter my skin.

I watch in awe as he pleasures himself in response to my body. My body . Me. I haven’t even touched him, yet this sexy, mercurial man just came on me.

Holy. Mother. Fuck.

A final wave of his orgasm rocks through him and he shivers, dropping his cock and sighing.

I sag against the mattress, dragging in labored breaths as if I, too, had just climaxed.

He blows out a breath. “How was that for you?”

“You’re a motherfucker.”

He chuckles, reaching down and swirling his cum around my thigh. “It was great for me. Thanks for asking.”

“I didn’t.” I glare at him. “That was hot, but I’m still pissed.”

He brings his finger to my mouth. “Open.”

My pussy clenches as I part my lips. Our gazes collide as he inserts his finger onto my tongue. I hold his attention and suck hard, tasting the warm saltiness until he pulls back.

His eyes sparkle. “You, Miss Johnson, are un-fucking-believable.”

“Do you know what would be un-fucking-believable?” I lift a brow. “Actually fucking.”

His laugh takes the edge off my annoyance.

“Did we learn a lesson tonight?” he asks, taunting me.

“Yes, Mr. Brewer.” I bat my lashes. “We learned that what’s good for you is good for me.”

“Oh, very good. Not how I was going to phrase that, but it works.” He plants a soft kiss to the center of my lips. “Now, how do you want fucked?”

“I need it fast and hard.” I glance around the room. “Bend me over and give it to me doggy style.”

He nods approvingly and unties my wrists. My arms fall. I didn’t realize how heavy they’d gotten. Guess I had a good distraction .

Gently, he brings my wrists to his mouth and presses his lips against each one. My heart sputters, threatening to take the gesture the wrong way. So I shove the idea out of my head and focus on getting what I came here for.

“Hands and knees on the side of the bed,” he says, back to his gruff self.

I get situated, willing my arms to have enough strength left to hold me up. The crackle of a foil wrapper breaks through the air. Then silence. I glance over my shoulder just in time to watch Gannon roll a condom down his already hard cock.

“I thought I might have to help you get ready for me again,” I say. “That’s impressive.”

He smiles. “It seems as if you have a magic pussy.”

I shimmy my hips back and forth, waggling my magic pussy in his face.

He comes up behind me, running both palms over my ass. I spread my knees and arch my back, wadding the blankets in my hands.

“You asked,” he says, roughing his palms up to my waist. The tip of his cock parts my soaked folds. “You shall receive.”

His fingers bite into my skin as he shoves deep inside me in one smooth thrust.

I gasp a breath as I’m lit on fire.

The angle is perfection. He slams into me so hard that his pelvis hits my ass.

“ God, Gannon . Yes,” I say through clenched teeth. I push against him, loving the borderline pain. “Do that.”

“Let me hear you. Don’t hold back.”

The tempo is punishing and my clit swells with anticipation. The sound of our fucking fills the room, leaving no space for anything but us.

“Give it to me,” I say, my voice growing louder. “I want to fucking come on your cock.”

“That’s it. That’s it, baby.” He groans. “Your pussy is about to go off. I feel it.”

My arms give out. I fall to my forearms, unable to hold myself up any longer. Gannon jerks me back, holding me still so he can continue to deliver the sweet thrusts that I’ve begged him for.

Tears fill my eyes from the intensity of the moment.

I begin to quake—the ripples starting in my core but spreading in a vicious wave through my entire body.

“Gannon!” I scream, shaking. “Oh, my God!”

He thrusts harder and deeper, tattooing his name in the back of my pussy.

“I can’t,” I cry out. “I … can’t.”

My cheek hits the mattress as he smashes into me one final time. He shakes as he spills himself into the condom, and the guttural groan emitting from his throat is enough to turn me on again.

If I could hold myself up.

Or think.

Or open my eyes.

Finally, he stills and releases his grip—my skin feels bruised beneath his fingertips—and he helps me fall gently to the blankets. I squint up at him and grin.

“Thank you,” I say, giggling.

He shakes his head. “Never thank me for getting the privilege of doing that.”

The warmth that fills me this time isn’t from an orgasm. But I’m afraid to put a name on it. So I don’t.

“Let’s get cleaned up.” He holds out a hand. “Come on.”

I groan. “I don’t want to.”

“I don’t care.”

My bottom lip juts out. “I just need a little nap .... and maybe a sandwich.”

“Afterward. Come on, Miss Matcha.”

His nickname for me makes me laugh, and the sweet little grin makes me giddy. I slap my hand in his and let him pull me off the bed.

He sweeps me off my feet and carries me into the bathroom like the gentleman I’m learning he sometimes can be.