Page 60 of Renegade
Bent over the arm of the couch, I have to turn my headto the side to see him. “Why? Because I lost the bet?”
“No.” He takes a step closer and, holding my head to the side with his fingers fisted in my hair, he kisses me brutally, his hunger voracious and all consuming. “You’ve unleashed something in me, Gemma. Something savage that I didn’t know was there. When I push you past your comfort zone, you look at me with this expression in your eyes that just makes me want to push farther, to demand more, to see where your breaking point is.”
I remember what he said last night, and some intractable stubborn streak takes over. “You won’t get me to say my safe word.”
“I know, sweetheart. I don’t want you to anymore. I just want to be the one to push you past your boundaries, to explore everything with you for the first time. I want to find your breaking point, because that’s how I will prove to you that you’re safe with me. But I don’t want to break you. I want set you free.”
He reaches for the blindfold he’d laid next to me, and my breath catches as he gently covers my eyes with it, so close to me that I can smell the clean masculine scent of him. I lean into him as much as my position and the restraints allow me to, craving the touch of his skin, my body drawn to his like metal to a magnet. But he steps away, leaving me feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. Suddenly enveloped in darkness and left alone, a tiny flicker of anticipation licks at me as I realize I can’t see what he’s going to do next. Without my eyesight, every other sense is heightened. I strain to listen to his movements, wondering what he’s going to pull out of his toy bag next.
The unmistakable feel of multiple leather strands trailing across my back leaves no doubt what he intends to do next. The flogger. I stiffen, twisting away from him as much as I can with the spreader bar holding my feet apart. He yanks me back unceremoniously, holding me firmly in place this time, as he drags the soft leather down my back, over my ass, and up the backs of my thighs, then across my ass again. I whimper slightly, awaiting the sting of the small whip I’d told him scared me. But somehow, I’m not feeling scared right now. It’s Walker, and I realize I trust him to know what I can take, and even, maybe, what I need.
“Shh.” His fingers stroke across my hypersensitive skin for a minute, and then are replaced by the strands of the flogger. “Don’t make me gag you. I want to hear you scream.” His voice in my ear is a sultry whisper.
I should be terrified, but I’m not. Apprehensive? Hell yes. But even that is mixed with more than a tinge of excitement. This is Walker. He has a way of taking the array of sensations only he seems to be able to create and swirling them together inan exquisitely conducted orchestra of heat, vulnerability, and desire—each balancing and enhancing the other until my body sings a symphony of passion.
He gathers my hair into a ponytail in his hand and lifts my head, holding it up. “But more than anything, I want to see your face,” he says softly.
I brace myself for the blow of the flogger. Instead, I feelthe stiff leather handle push into my wetness, and I gasp as he slowly moves it in and out, fucking me with it until my inner core is throbbing. Only after I’m moaning does he pull it out and smack it against my ass. It doesn’t hurt at all! Instead, the thuddy kiss of the leather against my sensitive skin sends desire spiking through me. He flicks it up between my legs, the strands hitting my sex, and I instinctively try to close them, but of course I can’t. The spreader bar holds me open for whatever he desires. He does it again, but instead of being painful, it has the opposite effect, and I realize I’m precariously close to coming. He pushes it back inside me, pumping in and out a few times before removing it again, and I whimper with a primal longing. I’m desperate to be filled, desperate to come. I can smell my own earthy essence mixed with the unmistakable scent of leather as he pushes the handle between my lips. He replaces the leather handle with his tongue, and I can taste my love for Walker in the kiss. He’s in my bloodstream. I can’t live without him.
But I have to. We can’t keep doing this. I have the suddencertainty that if I surrender everything to him tonight, I might never get my heart back. Tonight he wants everything—he wants my complete vulnerability and trust, he wants to push past every boundary that keeps me intact. But once I’ve given my all to him and he’s given everything he has to give to me in return, there’ll be no going back. There’s no intimacy greater, and I know that my heart can’t survive. I have to stop this before it goes too far and my heart is irreparably damaged.
I catch my breath as his lips feather over my jaw, gripping my earlobe between his teeth. He growls, and it reverberates straight to my sex, making me long to feel him there one more time.
Come on, Gemma.
I waver as he plants tiny kisses down my spine.
You have to protect yourself.
“Pineapple!”
