49. Thea
49
THEA
I watched Shep check the locks on every window in the living room as I fed the kittens their last meal before bed. They were officially up on the Wags & Whiskers website, ready for adoption. I had no doubt they’d be snatched up in a matter of days. They were too cute not to be.
That should’ve made me happy, but I couldn’t seem to let the emotion land. Not when worry and concern crowded it out.
Shep had been quiet all night. When he returned from Trace’s house, he’d barely shared about their conversation, only saying, “We’re working on it.” Since then, he’d been trapped in his thoughts, and it left me feeling strangely alone, even though Shep was physically present.
When the kittens were done with their meal, I lifted the bowls, taking them to the sink to wash. I could feel Shep continuing his movements through the house, checking every possible point of entry. But I knew that wasn’t how Brendan would lash out. When he did, it would be in a way no one could trace.
After washing my hands, I headed for the bathroom to get ready for bed. Even after taking my time to do every single step of skincare, Shep still wasn’t done with his assessment of my home. So, I moved to my bedroom, changed into my nightie, and slid beneath the covers, grabbing my book from the nightstand.
I’d moved on to a new romance with a tortured hero who had a thing for control. I wouldn’t lie and say that I hadn’t wondered if Shep’s need for control could express itself in rough ropes or soft, silken cords. But tonight, I couldn’t focus. I read the same sentence over and over until Shep moved into the bedroom.
My gaze instantly went to him. He wore navy sweats that hung low on his hips, and a heather-gray tee worn in all the right places. “Everything good?”
He nodded. “You tired?”
I shook my head. “Not really.” The truth was, I wanted Shep. Wanted to feel the connection between us bloom brightly. Wanted to feel him .
Shep pulled his T-shirt over his head, exposing all those planes of muscle. “Read as long as you want. The light won’t keep me up.”
He shucked his sweats and climbed into bed beside me. He leaned over to kiss my shoulder and then rolled away to find sleep.
I stared at his broad back. The view had my nose stinging as I felt the disconnect from him. I forced my gaze back to my book and breathed through the sensation. I knew that Shep had to feel powerless at the moment, something he absolutely hated. He didn’t need my disappointment. He needed my understanding.
Holding on to that, I disappeared into the pages of my book again, finding the escape I needed this time. I lost myself in the push and pull between the two characters as they struggled to give each other what they both needed.
As I reached a scene where the heroine gave in to the hero’s darker desires, I shifted beneath the sheets, restless. My breaths picked up speed as he bound her feet to the end of the bed, her hands above her.
When a hand slid across my belly, I jumped, gaze snapping to Shep .
He stared back at me, eyes hooded. “Good book?”
My lips parted, but I couldn’t get the words out. So, I nodded.
“I can tell.”
My brows pulled together. “How?”
One corner of Shep’s mouth kicked up. He ghosted a finger over my face. “Cheeks flushed.” Down the column of my neck to my collarbone. “Breaths quick.” He moved lower, tracing his finger down my sternum and belly to my thigh. “Clenching those pretty thighs.”
Shep’s eyes flashed gold. “So, tell me. What’s happening in those pages?”
There was a brief flicker of fear and worry that Shep’s playful curiosity would turn to the darkness Brendan had been consumed by, but that concern quickly disappeared when I focused on Shep’s face. There was no judgment there. There was only heat.
The fact that I was turned on by what I was reading only turned Shep on in return. Something about that made me fall a little more in love with the man pinning me to the mattress with his golden gaze. And that love made me bold.
“He, um, likes to tie her up.”
That heat in Shep’s expression intensified. “You like that.”
It wasn’t a question, but I still nodded.
“You want to try that?”
I bit my bottom lip but nodded again.
“Fuck,” he murmured. “What else?”
“He, uh, blindfolds her.”
Shep studied me for another moment. “You like the sound of that?”
I swallowed, my mouth going suddenly dry. “Yes.”
Shep’s fingertips grazed over my thigh. “Cutting off one sense heightens the others. Makes you more aware.”
My pulse pounded in my neck. It was somehow already like he’d removed a sense, my hearing maybe? Blood roared in my ears, and I could feel the barest touch of Shep’s fingers on my thigh more than when I’d tried to bring myself to orgasm countless times before.
Those fingers traced a figure eight that nearly drove me over the edge. Shep watched my face, fascinated, almost reverent. “Didn’t give you what you needed tonight, did I?”
I pressed my lips together and shook my head.
“I need to apologize, then.”
My mouth parted again, and I sucked in a breath. “I like your apologies.”
Shep chuckled, throwing off the covers and sliding out of bed. He stalked across the room toward my closet, muscular ass visible through the black of his boxer briefs. He opened my closet and rummaged around for a few minutes before reemerging laden with what I could just make out were scarves.
Lots and lots of scarves.
My breaths came quicker as he strode back across the room. To the bed. To me.
Shep let the array of fabrics and colors flutter to the mattress, like the sweep of hummingbird wings. He stared down at me, heat and need and tenderness all mixed together in his gaze. “You sure about this? We’ve had a day.”
“I’m sure,” I whispered.
“You say the word, wherever we’re at, and this stops. Okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
I waited for Shep to argue, maybe suggest that he knew better, but he didn’t. Something about that made me fall even more in love with him. That we could learn, grow, and change…together.
Shep’s eyes stayed on me as he reached for the pile of scarves. Heat swirled in those amber depths. Then his gaze dropped to the array of fabrics. I missed the feel of his attention on me. The way it made energy crackle between us, to the point where I could almost feel the contact.
Shep pulled a pale green scarf out of the pile and ran his long, thick fingers over the fabric, assessing the feel. Then his hands gripped it, pulling it taut in two quick snaps.
I felt the bite of that movement across my skin. A flush of warmth swept through me, and I pressed my thighs together in an attempt to relieve the ache there. It did no good .
Shep pulled out more scarves, one after the other until he finally reached a silk one. I didn’t know why I’d even bought the damn thing. It wasn’t like I needed a silk scarf in Sparrow Falls, but I’d seen it at the secondhand shop in town, and it was so beautiful. It looked like a delicate painting you could wear.
As Shep studied it, running those long fingers over the watercolor detailing, I was beyond grateful that I’d made the rare impulse purchase. He took the remaining scarves and placed them on top of the dresser. As he stalked back to the bed, my heart rate ratcheted up.
Shep came to a stop at the end of the bed, between the two short posts at the footboard. Those amber eyes were on me again.
He bent, his hand fisting in the blankets and slowly tugging them down. The glide of the sheets against my overheated skin felt like a cool caress. They inched down lower and lower until they were gone completely.
Shep’s gaze cascaded over me, landing in different spots. He traced my collarbone, then dipped lower over my breasts and belly, down to my thighs where my nightgown had ridden up.
“Have I ever told you how much I love these fuckin’ nighties?” Shep growled.
My tongue darted out, wetting my bottom lip. “I don’t like pajama bottoms. They ride up and get all twisted when you sleep.”
Shep’s eyes swept back up my legs to the apex of my thighs, as if he could see through the material to what was beneath. “So damn pretty. All soft satin and lace. And what do you wear under it, Thorn?”
My lips parted on an inhale. “You know it’s nothing.”
Shep let out a sound that was almost a growl. Not exactly that, but it definitely had an animalistic edge. And something about it had wetness gathering between my thighs and my nipples pebbling.
His hands latched around my ankles, and he tugged me farther down the bed. That, too, had me sucking in breath. Shep’s grip wasn’t harsh in any way, but there was power behind it. Something I wanted to feel.
Shep grabbed one of the scarves and tied one end to the bedpost and the other to my ankle. The moment the soft fabric locked around my limb, heat surged through me.
“Too tight?” Shep asked, his voice going gritty as he traced the tie with his finger.
I shook my head.
“Words, Thorn. I need your words.” There was a command in Shep’s voice that had my nipples tightening to a point just shy of pain.
“Not too tight,” I breathed.
He gave the scarf a testing tug. “Good.”
Then Shep moved to my other ankle, repeating the steps. As he rounded the bed, he kept his hand on me, a point of contact. Fingers ghosted up my leg and over my belly, then along my sternum to my chin. Shep’s thumb skated over my bottom lip as if memorizing the swell.
“Arms up. Grab the headboard.”
My arms obeyed before I even made the conscious choice. My fingers latched on to the wooden slats in the furniture, and Shep moved with deft grace, weaving a pale pink scarf around them and tying it off.
“Good?” he rasped.
“Good,” I echoed.
But it was more than good. My breaths came quickly, pressing against the satin of my nightgown. I shifted, trying to alleviate some of the building pressure but couldn’t, not with my feet tied in place.
One corner of Shep’s mouth kicked up. “Can’t press those pretty little thighs together, can you?”
“Shepard.” I didn’t know what the single word even meant. It was searching and reprimanding all at once.
But it only made Shep grin. “At my mercy,” he whispered, his fingers trailing lightly over the lace at my breasts. Then they moved lower, circling a nipple. “Do you know what a gift that is? That trust?”
“Shepard.” It was as if all I could say was his name. But this time, I was begging.
“Don’t worry, Thorn. I’ll take care of you.” His fingers moved in a flash, clamping down on that bud. There was a bite of pain that lasted a millisecond and then spread into the heat of pleasure. Wetness pooled at my core.
Shep’s hand was gone and reaching for the final silk scarf. He placed it gently over my eyes, carefully wrapping it around my head and tying it off.
Darkness descended and engulfed me completely. I had a moment of panic when there was nothing, and then Shep’s hands were on me again. They trailed down my sides to where the hem of my nightgown rested.
“Need to see all of you,” he ground out. “Tell me I can.”
“Yes,” I breathed. I wanted him to look. Such a foreign feeling, but one that I felt the sweet relief of.
Shep’s roughened fingertips felt like sandpaper kisses across my skin, lifting my nightgown higher and higher. The cool air swept over my bare flesh, the nightie scrunched up over my breasts. The feel of it had my back arching, searching for more.
“So fucking gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.”
Shep’s words were another caress. The feel of them landing, digging in, had a different kind of heat spreading.
He moved again, and I heard the soft footfalls in the nothingness of the darkness around me, but I couldn’t tell where he stopped. All I could do was wait.
That waiting turned everything up. That tension inside me pulsed, and my core cried out for him. My lips parted as I sucked in air.
It wasn’t Shep’s fingers that found me this time. It was his mouth. His lips closed around my nipple, sucking it deep. His tongue circled the bud, and it twisted, tightening to the point of pain. His hand found my other breast, his thumb mimicking the movements of his tongue.
Tension swept through me again, weaving my muscles impossibly tighter. My back arched, leaned into all of it, my body wanting more. A cry left my lips, an audible plea.
Shep hummed around my nipple, and then his mouth was gone. The flash of cold after the heat was almost too much to bear .
“Those sounds,” he growled. “Best thing I’ve ever heard. They’re like a drug. Just need more and more.”
I sucked in a breath, my body moving in the direction of Shep’s voice, searching for him even though I couldn’t see him.
Then his hands were on me again, sliding up my thighs. “Thorn, so fucking wet. Glistening for me.”
Shep’s thumb swept through the wetness, spreading it up and over my clit. I couldn’t help the moan that left my lips.
“Yes,” he ground out. “Tell me how it feels. What you want. What you need.”
“Feels like tiny little fireworks exploding across my skin.”
Two fingers slid inside me, and my body bucked against them, pure relief at the feel of some part of Shep entering me.
He slid them in and out in a smooth glide. “This?” he practically purred. “Or this?” His fingers curled as they as slid out, creating a delicious friction. “One?” The smooth glide. “Two?” The friction.
“Two,” I panted.
“That’s my girl. So fucking good at telling me what she wants. What she needs.”
Shep’s thumb made another pass around my clit, getting closer and closer to that bundle of nerves. My hips arched up to meet him, wanting more, wanting everything.
My muscles strained, legs tugging at the scarves, fingers digging into the fabric in a search for purchase.
“Love it when you’re greedy. Love watching you writhe against my fingers. Tell me what you need, Thorn.”
“More. I need more.”
“Be specific ,” he pressed.
That was Shep, always challenging me, helping me come into my own. To be comfortable in that sexual side of myself.
“Want your cock,” I breathed. “Want to feel all of you.”
“That’s my girl.”
His fingers were gone, and I almost cried out at the absence. I heard rustling, movement above me, then Shep lifted my hips, sliding a pillow beneath them .
“This image,” he ground out. “Burned into my mind for eternity.”
“Shepard.” His name was a plea.
His thumb traced my opening. “So beautiful. So ready.”
Then I felt him hovering over me, tip bumping against my entrance. “Perfect,” he breathed.
Shep slid inside.
His girth had me sucking in a breath, trying to adjust, but that flicker of pain only drove the pleasure higher.
Shep thrust in deeper, and thanks to the pillow, the angle of my hips had him hitting that perfect spot each time. My eyes watered beneath the scarf as my hands gripped the wooden slats harder.
My hips rose to meet Shep with as much movement as the bindings would allow. The fact that any motion was limited, and everything was so out of my control when that was something I’d held so tightly to, drove everything higher.
I lost myself in the buzz and heat. The sounds our bodies made. The feel of Shep’s power coursing through me. He thrust deeper, his speed picking up. My walls began to flutter around him, and he cursed.
His thumb found my clit, circling and finding the spot where I needed him the most. He pressed down, and I shattered with a force I’d never felt before. Weight pressing down, all around, as Shep powered into me, releasing on a shout. Wave after wave hit me as he rode out his orgasm.
Even as he slowed, my body shook with aftershocks. Tremors twitched through me as Shep’s mouth found mine, featherlight. The kiss was a soothing promise as his hands reached above, freeing mine.
He slid out of me, the absence of him sending a small whimper from my lips. The ties on my legs were gone in a flash, and then Shep’s body was curved around mine as he pulled the blindfold free.
The low lamplight felt bright after all the dark, and Shep pulled me against him, curling around me. He inhaled against my neck, breathing me in. “Was it more?”
My body melted against his. “It was everything.”