23. Karolina
KAROLINA
Rand’s fingers tangle in my hair, and he draws me close to claim a kiss, as though he wants to devour my declaration of trust.
Ever since we met, I’ve been resisting it, resisting him.
Us.
But some part of me has been drawn to him from the very beginning. Especially since that day in his office when he promised to protect me from my stalker.
I throw myself into the kiss, showing him just how much this connection means to me. I marvel at the sense of completion; a hollowed-out space in my chest that I’ve refused to acknowledge for years finally stops aching.
I’m not alone anymore.
I have Rand, and he has me.
“I want you,” I pant against his mouth.
Despite my recent trauma, my body burns for him.
Or maybe it’s because of the trauma. I crave to join with him in the most intimate way possible.
His hands bracket my face, holding me with care despite trapping me close.
“You’re hurt,” he says, but his voice is rough with longing.
“I’m not.”
My throat is a little sore, and my diaphragm feels a bit tender from coughing up river water.
But that discomfort is nothing in comparison to the all-consuming desire to be with him.
His face begins to harden to a forbidding mask, but I brush the tension from his brow before he can reprimand me for lying.
“Please, Rand. I need you. I need to feel you with me and know that we’re alive.”
He groans and presses his body into mine. His cock stiffens against my belly, and I rub myself against him, tempting him to surrender.
It’s more than simple lust driving me; this is a soul-deep imperative to connect.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” I whisper.
His hand spans my lower back, pulling me into him. “You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone. You have me.”
My eyes sting with a swell of emotion. I blink the tears away before they can blur his chiseled face.
I never want to lose sight of him. In this moment, I’m utterly enthralled. He’s the only real thing in my world, the only person who matters.
“You have me too,” I confess.
He kisses me in a frenzy. His lips capture mine with bruising force, and I return his ferocity in kind, nipping at him. He opens for me on a low growl, giving me everything I demand of him even as he stakes his claim over me. He strokes his tongue deep into my mouth, taming mine.
My body heats for him, and I start rubbing my pulsing clit against his hard thigh in wanton abandon. His cock jerks.
He pulls away sharply. “You’ll make me lose control.”
My hand fists in his hair. “Good. I want you to.”
Because when it comes to him, I have no control, either.
His jaw works. “Not yet. Not for a long time. I’m not nearly finished with you.”
He lifts me up and carries me the short distance to the bed. When he tosses me down on it, his shirt rides up my thighs.
His eyes flare as he stares down at me, like I’m an offering on an altar to him.
Boldly, I spread my legs in wanton invitation.
A harsh curse drops from his lips, and he grabs the hem of the shirt.
I lift my arms, helping him strip it off me in my eagerness to be naked before him.
I want him naked too. I want to see all those powerful muscles ripple beneath my tender touch.
When I’m bare before him, I reach for his shirt too.
His hands shackle my wrists, pinning them above my head.
I tug against his iron hold.
“I want to touch you,” I say breathily.
His jaw ticks. I don’t understand his strange tension. He’s looking at me like I’m the center of his universe, but he’s holding back.
“I’m in charge here,” he reminds me. “Let me make you feel good.”
I relax in his hold, surrendering. He knows what I like, and as much as I’m aching to have him inside me, I know our joining will be heightened by my submission.
I’ll give it to him willingly. No games or playful resistance this time.
There’s no need for pretense. What’s happening between us is raw and real, and I no longer want to push him away.
“You’re in charge,” I agree.
He brushes a kiss over my lips. “Good girl.”
The low praise reaches me on some deep, primal level. The tenderness in those two words conveys the gentle care that I’ve been denied since I isolated myself completely.
“Stay.” He squeezes my wrists once to emphasize his command.
I don’t even think about denying him.
Until he reaches into his nightstand and withdraws a pair of handcuffs.
I tense, but his weight atop me keeps me from scooting away.
“Why do you have those?” I demand, my lust souring.
He caresses my cheek with his free hand. “Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” I refute. “I don’t want to use a bondage toy that you keep stashed away for other women.”
He chuckles, and I scowl at him.
“This isn’t funny.” I wriggle, but there’s no evading him.
“You’re jealous,” he remarks, utterly delighted.
I tip my chin back. “So, what if I am? You seem to like it.”
He kisses my forehead, and I’m tempted to melt.
“I bought them for you,” he murmurs. “I wouldn’t use them with anyone else.”
I blink. “Oh.”
He’s been anticipating this.
I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s made it clear that he intends to have me, and he’s aware of my preference for him to dominate me.
“Okay,” I agree softly.
He dangles the cuffs in front of my face and drawls, “Is that how my good girl asks for what she wants?”
I lick my lips. “I want them.”
He quirks a brow. “Try again.”
My core flutters, and my arousal wets his pants.
“I want you to handcuff me, Professor.” My voice is low and sultry in a way I’ve never heard before.
He curses again, but his hands are gentle as he secures the cuffs around my wrists, looping the fine chain that connects them around a metal slat on his headboard.
“Don’t struggle. I don’t want you to injure yourself.”
I test the restraints carefully. They’re unyielding, and if I pull against them too hard, I’ll bruise myself.
I nod my understanding. Rand would never want to harm me, and I’ll honor that.
He reaches in the nightstand drawer again. This time, he pulls out a blindfold.
I shake my head. “I want to see you. Please.”
He shushes me gently. “Trust me.”
I draw in a shuddering breath. “I do.”
The padded, black satin blindfold covers my eyes, and the world goes dark as he secures it at the back of my head. Immediately, all of my other senses heighten.
I hear his rapid breaths; he’s practically panting with his own need for me.
He smells faintly of salty body wash and something deeper beneath it that’s purely masculine. The scent reaches something distinctly feminine inside me, and I inhale like I need him more than oxygen.
And the sensation of his gentle fingers tracing the lines of my features is sweet enough to hold an edge of sharpness.
Even though I can’t see him, the intimacy is almost painful in its intensity.
I’ve never experienced anything like it.
I tip my head back, seeking a kiss.
He obliges me, tasting my lips in a slow, languorous claim. The desperate frenzy of our earlier joining melts into tender passion.
I moan into his mouth, craving more of his unique taste.
He can’t seem to get enough of me, either.
I’m not sure how long he keeps me there, his hands skimming the outline of my body as he revels in our kiss.
With every reverent touch, my core throbs. I’m wet and desperate for more deliciously slow torment.
I arch into him, unabashedly rubbing my hard nipples against his chest. I hate the barrier of his shirt between us, but the cotton fabric is soft as it teases my sensitive buds.
“More,” I pant. “I need more.”
“That’s my greedy girl,” he praises.
The warm glow that suffuses my chest mixes with the heat pulsing through my body with every heavy heartbeat. It stokes my lust, and my inner muscles clench with the desire to be filled.
I’m writhing beneath him mindlessly.
“Please…” I beg. “I need to feel you.”
He groans. “How can I deny you?”
His weight leaves me, and I’m deprived of his body heat for a cruel few seconds. He’s back atop me, and I heave in a shaky breath when his bare skin touches mine.
Nothing has ever felt more right. For the first time in years—possibly ever—I’m whole.
Not bereft. Not alone.
I don’t have to be strong.
In this moment, I let go completely.
He seems to feel the shift in me, because he sucks in an awed gasp.
“You are so fucking beautiful. So perfect for me.”
The words don’t scare my anymore. I crave to hear them now.
I’m every bit as greedy as he said.
“More,” I beg again. “I need more.”
He obliges me, drawing back just far enough so that he can pinch and pull at my nipples, giving me the little hits of pain that drive me wild.
He knows exactly how to play my body like his favorite instrument, like he understands my deepest needs without me having to say anything.
Our chemistry is more potent than I ever imagined, and judging by his hard length pressing into my thigh, we really are perfectly matched in our desires.
His touch trails lower, and his teeth replace his pinching fingers on my nipple.
I cry out at the shock of pain. Hot lines of pleasure zing straight to my clit, and a delicious ache throbs through my pussy.
“That’s it,” he encourages. “Take it for me. Take it all.”
“Yes,” I whimper.
Two thick fingers trace my labia. I’m more than ready for him to penetrate me. He parts my folds easily, filling me up. He finds my g-spot with expert ease. At the same time, his thumb grinds against my clit.
“Come for me.”
He bites my nipple again, and I shatter on his command.
Pleasure and pain twine into one, until I’m a being of pure sensation.
My mind blanks; there’s only the darkness behind the blindfold and the sweet cruelty of his masterful touch.
In the darkness, my entire focus centers on the ecstasy he’s wringing from my body.
“Another,” he demands. “I want you relaxed and ready for me.”
That slows my ascent to the second peak as worry nips at me.
“Will it hurt?” I ask, my voice small. “I’ve never…”
He rubs my g-pot ruthlessly. “Mine,” he growls. “All mine.”
I shudder at the possessive words, but not in fear. Another orgasm wracks me in response.
I want to be his.
I want him to be mine.
“I would never hurt you,” he swears over my sharp cry of bliss. “Never. Relax for me.”
A third finger penetrates me, stretching me wide. I’m almost unbearably full, but the slight discomfort is achingly erotic.
He continues to torment my nipples, and I clamp down on his fingers.
“One more,” he commands.
I’m helpless against his sensual onslaught. I’ll obey any order. I’ll give him anything he wants, if only he keeps granting me this painful pleasure.
My breath hitches as my clit becomes overly sensitive, and he slowly withdraws his touch.
For a moment, I’m bereft at the loss, but then I hear the sound of foil tearing: a condom.
He’s going to fuck me now.
He’s going to claim me.
I arch my back, silently conveying that I’m more than ready for him.
His body settles over mine again, blanketing me in comfort. He brushes my hair back from my sweat-dampened brow.
“I can’t last long.” He says it like an apology. “I want you too damn badly.”
He’s already given me more than enough orgasms. I don’t need to come again. I just need him.
“Take me,” I beg. “Make me yours.”
His powerful muscles shake around me, and his cock nudges at my pussy. I part my legs wider, encouraging him to slide inside me.
The tip of his shaft penetrates me, and I’m grateful that he took the time to prepare me. He’s huge, and the sensation of him filling me up makes me squirm beneath him; I’m not sure if I’m trying to evade him or to get closer.
“I’ve got you,” he promises through gritted teeth. “You can take me. You were made for me.”
He settles deep inside me, and a feral sound rumbles from his chest as he goes still. My inner walls clench around him, struggling to accommodate his cock. He hisses in response, but he holds himself back, allowing me time to adjust.
By the time he withdraws and thrusts back into me gently, there’s no pain.
“Are you alright?’ His voice is guttural, but I understand him.
“Yes,” I moan. “It feels good. You feel so good inside me.”
“Fuck!” His cock jerks. “I’m going to lose it if you keep talking to me like that.”
“Do it,” I challenge. “Lose control. Fuck me.”
He thrusts, and I gasp as my entire body rocks with the force of it.
He goes still again.
“Don’t stop,” I pant. “Harder. I want to feel all of you.”
His control snaps. He ruts into me, driving deep over and over again. His cockhead rubs against my g-spot, and pleasure gathers at my core. With each thrust, I’m wound tighter.
My pussy contracts around him, and he groans in defeated ecstasy. He pulses inside me as he comes undone.
Power floods my system. This man is weak for me. I did this to him.
He’s mine.
The knowledge sends me flying high, and I scream out my orgasm.
We come together, perfectly in sync.
A perfect match.