No Strings Attached

Chapter Three

“But I ... Doesn’t it mean he’s right?” She rushed out in a hoarse whisper, her eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears, “If I like that? Aren’t I just what he says?”

Nate cupped the nape of her neck, pulling her lips to his for a moment, before leaning back to look into her dark eyes while he stroked her soft cheek with his fingers, “It doesn’t make you a whore to want this, any more than it makes me just like your father,” he leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes tightly to shut out the agony and helplessness that thoughts of her father brought him. After a few long, silent moments in which he’d tried to throw the images from his mind, he met her gaze, “Let me ask you again – all of this aside – did you like it?” At her nod, he continued, “Why, do you think?”

A dainty frown puckered her forehead, “Because it was you ... I don’t think I could ever ... be scared with you.”

They both felt his body stir inside her, and he moved, slowly thrusting up into the warm cavern.

“Lean back, put your hands on the steering wheel,” he said in a low, gruff voice, and on a moan, she complied, and he ran the palm of his hand up the length of her body, before smoothing his thumb across her full lower lip. She gently touched the tip of her tongue against it, “That’s it, take it,” he whispered, and she drew it into her mouth.

He clenched her buttock in his hand, tilting her hips for an easier entrance into the tight channel, her body compliant to his every touch.

Slowly, he slipped his thumb out of her mouth, drawing it down her body to press against the ravenous bundle of nerves that was wound so tight, and she moaned loudly into the dim lights – the moon casting shadows across her skin through the windscreen, “Does that feel good?”

His voice, although soothing, and nothing more than a soft whisper, had a ruthless edge – an edge chiselled and unyielding – and she was compelled to answer, not with a nod of her head, as would be her general pattern with him, but by moaning out her very obvious reply into the air around them that pulsed with sensual energy, caressing over her overwrought senses.

“You don’t want to move your hands, do you baby?” his dark eyes -hooded with his own heavy, tangible arousal – met hers from underneath lowered lids, “Or rather, you won’t, will you? You won’t move forward – won’t kiss me – not unless I tell you to. Will you?”

His words were whispering along the precipice of her arousal, pulling her closer and closer to the edge somehow – commanding, mesmerizing – pure fucking temptation. Who knew that words alone held such a power over physical beings?

“Why not Shannon?” he plowed on, relentless in his slow, torturous upwards thrusts, filling her body completely, “There are no bonds. No restraints. Just two simple commands and you won’t disobey them will you?”

Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, he could see clearly the internal battle that was consuming her, her body stalling its own orgasm by the mere hint of his command, and he sped up his thumb on her clitoris, stroking his index finger against their joined bodies. “Don’t come until I tell you to,” he smiled, breathless, “Your body knows its master, Shannon, it trusts me to know how much you can take, even if you don’t.”