Chapter 28
twenty-eight
. . .
SUTTON
“Where do you want me?” Lane asked when we stepped into his bedroom, shooting me a cheeky grin, and I glared.
Instead of responding, I tossed the key and handcuffs onto the nightstand and stepped away from him to take in the room, which up to that point, I’d never been in.
Being on the ground floor, one wall had French doors that opened onto a small, private deck.
Two chairs sat facing the mountains beyond.
The walls were painted a slate grey, offset by the same clean white trim as the rest of the house.
Lane’s bed was, unsurprisingly, huge given his size.
A California king, if I had to guess, with a black metal frame, flanked on either side by stained wood nightstands that brought some warmth to the room.
A doorway opposite the porch opened into the en suite bathroom, and another led to what I assumed was the closet.
Overall, the effect was very masculine and very Lane.
Finally, I faced him again.
I expected to be nervous about broaching this subject.
There was no denying Lane’s alpha male status in the world.
He’d never been very good at giving up control.
Hell, he held the highest law enforcement position in this entire county, a title he’d earned through hard work and his ability to lead his men.
The fact that he’d so easily agreed to giving this a try with me took my breath away.
Returning to him, I stopped right in front of him.
For a moment, we merely stared at each other.
Then, with surprisingly steady hands, I reached for the hem of his sweater and shoved it up to his pecs.
Lane got the idea and pulled it the rest of the way off while I let my fingertips trail over his warm skin, moving south until I connected with his belt.
“May I?” I asked.
“Of course,” he replied, voice a low rumble that I felt from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes.
Once unbuckled, I slid it free from the loops on his pants and went for his fly, unbuttoning it and dragging down the zipper. His cock was already a steel rod pressed against it, and he hissed when the backs of my fingers brushed it through his underwear.
I was pretty sure even that had gotten bigger since we were younger. Was that even possible?
His pants pooled at his ankles, and he stepped out of them, leaving him clad only in black boxer briefs.
Gesturing at him, I said, “Those gotta go too, Chief.”
Lane grinned as he hooked his fingers in the waistband and tugged the underwear down. The sound of the fabric rasping against the hair on his tree trunk thighs was fucking obscene. Combined with the sight of his cock popping free? Heat pooled in my core.
My palms tingled with the desire to touch him, and I licked my lips, thinking about all the perfect places on his body I wanted to put my mouth.
Snagging the handcuffs from the nightstand, I swung them around on my finger and jerked my chin at the bed.
“Go on,” I urged him.
He complied easily, crawling on and settling on his back in the center on the large mattress, head resting on a pillow, arms up over his head, waiting for me.
Climbing on after him, I straddled his torso and hooked one of the cuffs on him, looped the chain through the metal posts of the headboard, and clicked the other around his other wrist.
“That okay?” I asked. “Not too tight or anything?”
Lane tugged on them and rotated his wrists a bit. “They’re good.”
“Good,” I grinned.
For a moment, I simply stared at him, going so far as to trace the tip of my pointer finger over the lines of his face: his eyebrows, the slope of his nose, those high cheekbones and full mouth. Deciding I’d start there, I bent to kiss him—gently. I couldn’t afford to get carried away. Not yet.
I slid backward, and Lane opened his legs so I could maneuver to sit between them.
As I’d done with his face, I let my fingertips drift over his skin, over all of the ink now decorating what had largely been a blank canvas the last time I’d seen him naked. Tracing the shapes and lines of text across his collarbones, down his pecs and into the valleys of his abdomen.
I sucked in a sharp breath when my gaze snagged on a word near his left hip, where his obliques cut into that delicious V that would normally force my eyes right to his dick.
But not now.
I brushed my thumb over the five cursive letters.
Sunny.
My nickname.
The nickname he’d given me even before we were anything, when we were just two kids living in this town, going to the same school, the same parties, running with the same crowd but not quite in the same circle.
“Because you’re like fucking sunshine,” he’d said the first time he used it.
I hadn’t felt like sunshine in a long time, but maybe, with his help, I could find my way back there.
“How long have you had this?”
“I got it right after…everything,” he admitted, eyes never wavering from mine.
“Lane,” I breathed, bending so I could press a kiss to it.
And now that my lips had found his skin, I couldn’t seem to tear myself away. I moved over him, dropping teasing licks and gentle nips of my teeth to his collarbones, his pecs. Sealing my mouth around his nipples and flicking them with my tongue, which had his back arching off the bed.
“Wicked,” he murmured.
“I’m just getting started.”
He sighed dramatically but with a smile on his face. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
Moving south again, I delved into the ridges of his abdomen, licking into his belly button, loving the way he clenched under my tongue.
I continued down, veering away from his cock and the pearly drop of precum beaded at the tip in favor of licking and sucking at the creases of his thighs.
So close but not quite where he needed me.
When I straightened, I noted with no small amount of satisfaction that Lane was practically vibrating, his entire body drawn taut and trembling.
This was exactly what I needed. To reclaim my power, to find my confidence again. And doing so with this man? The strongest, most masculine man I’d ever met? The one who’d starred in several of my teenage fantasies and all of my adult ones?
I felt like a goddamn queen.
I must have said it out loud because Lane shook his head and said, “Not a queen, sunny. A goddess.”
Grinning, I reached out and scraped a nail up the length of Lane’s cock, from base to head. His hips jerked, seeking more, but I pulled away.
“Well,” I said. “I know it’s technically your job to worship me, but how about I take care of that for you?”
“Please.”
Slipping my arms free of my cardigan, I tossed it across my room and hooked my hair behind my ears, then flattened onto my stomach between his legs.
“Is there anything that’s…off limits?” I asked.
I had no idea who the hell I thought I was or where this side of me had come from, but I found myself wanting to play. Not only testing the limits of what I was willing to give, but what Lane was willing to take.
“Fuck no,” he growled, and I grinned. Honestly, he’d probably say anything I wanted to hear at the moment if it meant I’d touch him, but I also knew Lane well enough to know he wouldn’t say something he didn’t mean.
I wanted to explore every part of him. His body was incredible, heavily muscled without being bulky, and so different from who he’d been at twenty. I looked forward to relearning it but also discovering all its changes.
“You have no idea how sexy you are right now,” I said, my tongue darting out to flick against the skin just below the head of his cock.
Lane made a choking sound. “Me? No, baby. You.”
Finally, I dragged my tongue up his length from root to tip, then took him in my mouth.
I wasn’t in any hurry, partly because we had a long way to go before I was through with him, but mostly because I fucking loved teasing him.
I hadn’t been intimate with anyone beyond kissing in sixteen years, and the last time had obviously turned me off from the experience for a long time.
Being with Lane like this was a luxury. Being brave enough to take this, feeling safe enough to try again—I wanted to savor it.
I licked him like a lollipop I had all the time in the world to consume, one hand holding him steady at the base while the other dipped lower, cupping his balls and rolling them between my fingers.
“Ahhhhhh. Fuck, sunny, that feels good.”
Pushing my luck, I tiptoed my fingers back, pressing briefly against his taint before going further, parting his cheeks and brushing them lightly over his hole, eyes flicking up to his face to gauge his reaction.
“Fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezed shut. His entire body tensed, and I quickly pulled away, afraid I’d gone too far.
Those depthless blue eyes flew open. “Why’d you stop?”
“You looked like you were in pain.”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t pain. Different, but it felt good.”
“So if I did it again…” I trailed off, slipping my pointer back into his crease applying more pressure to his hole. Lane hissed.
I settled into a surprisingly easy rhythm of toying with him while lazily sucking him.
Lane seemed to be deeply enjoying himself if the sexy sounds he made were any indication—sounds that morphed into those of displeasure anytime I’d stop.
His cock was shiny with my spit, and a fine sheen of sweat had broken out on his body—and mine.
Climbing off the bed, I peeled off my socks slowly while Lane watched.
“You gonna strip for me?”
Without answering, I gripped the hem of my tank and pulled it up my torso and over my head, flinging it across the room. Then my hands went to my jeans, disposing of them, leaving me in only my bra and panties.
There wasn’t anything about my body I didn’t like. Issues with sex aside, I was confident in my skin, and I became even more so with the way Lane looked at me—like he was moments away from breaking free of his restraints and eating me alive.