Chapter 22 Good Girl （Eden） #2
His mouth is on mine before I can breathe another word.
Not wild. Not rushed. Controlled. Demanding.
His tongue slides against mine in long, devastating strokes, and I gasp into him, trembling, desperate for more.
He tastes of espresso and heat, and the sound he makes—low, guttural—vibrates straight through me.
I fist the fabric of his Henley, greedy, pulling him closer, memorizing the hard planes of muscle under my palms. My fingers slide beneath, skimming over skin that’s hot and smooth, and my head spins with how solid he feels.
“Take it off,” I whisper, half plea, half command.
“What do you say, baby?”
My breath hitches. “Please. Please take it off.”
“That’s my girl,” he rasps, and in one fluid motion, he peels the shirt over his head, tossing it aside.
It isn’t the first time I’ve seen him shirtless, but it still knocks the air from my lungs—broad chest, powerful shoulders, lamplight skimming his dark skin and the heavy cut of his biceps.
Then I’m against the wall, his mouth devouring the column of my throat, teeth grazing, tongue soothing. His hands grip me firmly, hoisting me up, and I wrap around him instinctively—legs locking at his waist. His hard length presses against me, dragging a helpless moan from my lips.
“My girl wants this, doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” I breathe, raw and desperate, breaking into a sob.
His mouth brushes my jaw, hot and taunting. “I will give you everything, baby.”
He lifts up a hand, his thumb slipping past my lips, and he leans forward for a kiss that’s just tongue, meeting mine where his finger holds my mouth open. It’s filthy and mind-blowingly good. “You just want to be told what to do.”
My head tips back, nodding, surrender in my bones.
“On your knees, pretty girl,” he orders. “Take me out. Show me how good you can be for me.”
Heat slams through me. I drop so fast, it’s like gravity pulls me down. My pulse is wild, my body thrumming, every nerve lit up by his voice alone. I want more—I want everything. For Nate Russo to dominate me, to strip every ounce of control until there’s nothing left but him.
My fingers tremble as I fumble with his zipper.
His hand slides into my hair, steadying me, brushing strands from my face.
When I finally drag it down, I free him—thick, heavy, straining against the elastic of his boxers.
I ease them lower with shaking hands, glance up, and find his eyes glued on me—molten, waiting.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he growls, fist tightening in my hair. He strokes himself once, then drags the head across my lips, slicking them with salt and heat. “Open up, baby.”
The praise detonates low in my belly. I obey, wrapping my mouth around him, tasting him, reveling in the sharp hitch of his breath. My tongue circles the head before dragging down his length, taking in more, greedy for the way he groans above me.
“Oh, fuck.” His moan vibrates, dark and raw, hips straining forward, huge palm anchoring my jaw. He pulls back with a ragged sound, chest rising hard. “I need a minute…” A large thumb strokes my cheek, gentle, incongruous, even as his cock leaks against my skin.
“I’m going to teach you,” he rasps. “Teach you to suck me the way I like it. You want that, don’t you?”
It’s all I want. Forget everything else—my job, my ambition, the rules I’ve built my life on. Right now, I want to be good for him. A sob tears out of me. “Yes…. Please.”
He curses, pushing hair from my face, then knots his fingers back into it, guiding me. His pace. His depth. His control.
“Eyes up here, Eden.”
This is everything I didn’t know I needed.
I hollow my cheeks, sliding deeper, finding a rhythm that makes his breath stutter. My mind spins with the contradiction: me on my knees, obeying without hesitation, subdued.
And yet…I own him. I own the pleasure winding his body tight, the way his jaw locks, the curses torn from his throat. With every flick of my tongue, every swallow, I unravel him further.
The paradox is dizzying. Shameful. Exhilarating. I can’t untangle it, how surrender can be power, how obedience turns into control. But Nate, he understands everything that is happening here, his eyes flicking between my eyes and mouth.
My insides are clenching, my underwear so sticky, it feels as if I’ll have to peel it off me. I’m trembling, needy, as his groans deepen, guttural, raw—every sound of his undoing pulling me deeper.
“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” Nate rasps, voice rough with restraint. “My sweet girl…you were made for me, weren’t you? On your knees. Taking me so deep. You love having my cock in your mouth, don’t you?”
The filth of it collides with the worship, and I moan around him, undone, eager to please him.
“Fuck, you look so good with my cock between those pouty lips.” His hips jerk forward, strokes rougher now, deeper, less restrained. The thick head nudges the inside of my cheek, then pushes farther, his groan vibrating down into my bones.
I want more—more of that sound, more of his body tensing under my command—so I lick and suck with greedy precision, teasing, coaxing. He shudders above me, moaning loud, his voice breaking, and I slide him deeper until he’s lost in me completely.
“Oh, Eden—fuck.”
I bob along his length, finding the rhythm that makes him unravel.
His grip tightens in my hair, his jaw locked, chest heaving, and then—holding my gaze—he comes apart.
Heat floods my mouth, raw and hot, and I swallow as best I can, his thumb pressing the last drops past my lips.
When I suck on the pad of his finger, his groan is wrecked, guttural.
I’m floating, strung so high I can barely breathe. My whole body burns.
He hauls me up easily, setting me on shaky legs.
In one fluid motion, he strips me bare—sweater, shirt, bra, all gone, tossed aside. Cool air rushes over my overheated skin, and a helpless sound slips out of me, soft and broken.
A scorching gaze rakes over me. “Perfect,” he murmurs, eyes dragging down my body, memorizing me. His hand hooks in my waistband next, tugging my pants down. They puddle at my ankles, followed by the scrap of lace I’d worn beneath, leaving me trembling, exposed.
Nate steps back half a pace, his chest rising hard, his eyes devouring.
“Look at you,” he says hoarsely. “Naked. Ready for me.” He presses his hand to my center, a mix of tenderness and control and violence.
I flush hot, my nerves screaming with awareness.
My arms twitch as if to shield myself, but his voice cuts through.
“Don’t you dare try to hide from me.”
My breath stutters, caught between shame and the way his words thrum through me. He steps in again, fingers skimming down my bare side, settling on my hip. A claim.
“Eden. Can you be good?” I nod, dizzy, bowing to his touch, already surrendered.
His breath is hot against my ear. “You want more, don’t you? You want me to hold you still. Make the decisions. Tell you when to open, when to take, when to beg.”
My body strains toward him.
“Say it,” he murmurs. “Tell me you want me to take control. Or nod. You know how to do that.”
I move my head as ordered, sharp, desperate, soaked in flames.
His smile is slow, devastating. His fingertip trails down my jaw, featherlight. “Look at you. I haven’t even fucked you yet. But you’re already mine.”
My knees nearly buckle. He catches my chin, tipping it up.
“Now,” he says softly, almost kindly. “You know what good girls get, don’t you?”
His thumb strokes my lips—the same thumb I’d just sucked clean—and my body pulses in answer. He eases me back until the mattress dips beneath me. I fall onto it, breath shallow, trembling.
He kneels at the edge, watching my reaction as he pushes his pants all the way down
“Give me your hands.”
I obey, squirming on the bed, watching as he binds my wrists with the belt he unthreaded from his pants.
Then he pushes me on my back, his mouth beginning its torturous descent. Lips skimming down my body, large hands claiming my breasts, fingers twirling my nipples. By the time he reaches the inside of my thigh, I’m a puddle of need, helpless to hold back the whimper that slips out.
“So horny,” he teases, voice dark silk. “So fucking mine.”
His breath is hot where I ache most, his lips hovering a breath away. “You want me here?” A flick of his tongue—barely there—has my body jerking.
He smiles against my skin. “That’s a yes.”
The next lick is slower. Deeper. His tongue traces me open, deliberate and sure. My back arches helplessly.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice molten. “Bound up so pretty for me. Didn’t even fight it. You gave me your wrists like you’ve been waiting for me to take them.”
Humiliation and relief crash through me. I should feel terrified. Instead, I feel…safe. Safer than I have in years. My hands strain against the belt, but I don’t resist. I couldn’t if I wanted to.
He presses kisses higher, closer, until I’m twitching, burning.
“You know how many nights I’ve thought about having you like this?” he growls. “And you wanted to let another man teach you?”
Then his tongue flicks—light, devastating. My body jerks toward him, demanding more.
“Sweet,” he murmurs against me. “Just like I knew you’d be.”
The next stroke is firmer, slower. Back arching, a raw, broken sound escapes me.
“Don’t hold back now, Trouble,” he urges, his mouth relentless. “Let me hear you sing again.”
And I do. I can’t stop the sounds spilling out. Can’t stop chasing him with my hips.
“You’re dripping,” he rasps, sliding a finger inside me, then another, curling them deep. “Can you feel it? How badly you want this?”
I’d like to deny it. But I can’t. My body is betraying every secret I’ve kept locked away. I’m shaking, undone, and it terrifies me how much I need this—how much I need him.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His voice vibrates against me. “Me in control. My mouth ruining you while you can’t do a damn thing.”
My hips buck, frantic, but he pins me down.
“Not yet.” His breath is hot and merciless. “You’ll come when I say, baby. After I’ve had my fill.”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I don’t know if it’s from the unbearable edge he’s holding me on, or from the raw truth in his words. No one has ever seen me this way. No one has ever cared enough to take control so I could finally let go.
“Nate—” It rips out of me, a half sob, half plea. “Please—”
He chuckles low, satisfied. “That’s it. Beg me.”
And then he devours me. His tongue works me open, relentless and sure, coaxing, claiming, commanding.
“Good girl.” His praise vibrates against my skin. “Take it. Let me ruin you.”
The belt holds me in place while his mouth drives me higher. Licking, sucking, humming against my clit until all thought ceases, until pleasure becomes an avalanche. His fingers curl inside me, finding the exact spot I need him most. Tears spill hot down my cheeks.
“Nate, please…I—”
My voice breaks into sobs. It’s too much. Too intense. Too good. I try to squirm away, but he holds me in place.
“Shh,” he soothes between strokes. “You’re doing perfectly, baby.”
My heels dig into the mattress as he spreads me wider, his tongue playing over me with merciless precision.
“Now,” he growls finally, voice dark. “Give it to me. Don’t hold back. Come on my face, baby.”
The words detonate through me.
Pleasure rips me apart, violent, consuming. My wrists strain against leather, my cry torn raw from the deepest part of me.
He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let go. He works me through every last tremor, murmuring against my skin.
By the time the waves subside, I’m wrecked. Boneless. Tears streaking my face. And for the first time in years, I don’t feel broken. I feel whole.
Nate finally eases back, lips glistening, eyes blazing with hunger—and something softer that guts me. He presses a kiss to my thigh, then my stomach, tender in a way that shatters me more than his mouth ever could.
“Breathe,” he whispers. “That’s it. You did so damn good.”
He unbuckles the belt, freeing my wrists, then lifts them gently, kissing the red marks tenderly.
“See how easy it is?” His thumb brushes my cheek. “All you have to do is listen.”
He’s right. I did listen. I gave him everything.
And I want to give him more.