Sweet the Sin by Claire Kent

Naturally, she would be surprised. He wasn’t the sort of man to go out of his way for someone else. “Because she knows me. She’s not doing well, and the only people she remembers are from way back. My friend didn’t have anyone else to ask.”

  “Well”—she paused—“that was really nice of you.”

  He opened his eyes and gave her a narrow-eyed look. “Nice isn’t the word I’d use to describe me.”

  “I know. But still.” She looked strange, like she was rattled for some reason. Her eyes kept darting from his face to her hands in her lap. “I’m sure your friend appreciated it. Was it…”

  “Was it what?”

  “Was it hard? You seem kind of—I don’t know—stretched or something this afternoon.”

  He closed his eyes again.

  “Yeah,” he said, then decided the conversation had gone on long enough. He straightened up and backed the car out of the parking place.

  She didn’t pursue her earlier questions. She sat with her arms hugging her stomach, looking strangely fragile and confused.

  After about ten minutes of silence, he looked at her and asked, “You okay?”

  She smiled, but he could tell it was forced. “Of course. I’m waiting to get fucked at home.”

  He could tell she didn’t mean that either.

  It was a few minutes before he spoke again, and when he did, it wasn’t what he’d intended to say. “I don’t like hospitals.”

  He’d surprised her again. Her big blue eyes gazed up at him questioningly.

  He gave a little shake of his head. “I don’t.”

  “You run a pharmaceutical company,” she said slowly. “I’d think you would have gotten used to them by now.”

  “I haven’t.”

  She said, “Too many people to save.”

  She understood completely. He stared out the windshield at the traffic on the highway, murmuring, “And no way to save them.”

  —

  The next night, Kelly asked him to tie her up.

  He’d brought her to his room at bedtime, and they’d been kissing and caressing under the covers. Nothing wild or creative, but it had felt intense. He was tired after a long week and was mostly in the mood for something quiet.

  He certainly hadn’t planned on anything like this.

  Kelly said she just wanted to try something new.

  He agreed. There was no reason not to. She wanted it, and it might be exciting.

  He picked up some silk cords he had from some previous, nearly forgotten affair.

  She was lying naked on his bed, her eyes huge and very blue as they focused on him. He gazed at her for a minute, trying to read the expression in her eyes. Caleb had never seen that particular look there before. Her expression was deep, and conflicted, and significant, but he couldn’t figure out how to interpret it.

  He started to tie her right hand, winding the cord around her delicate wrist and around the post of his headboard. He intentionally kept it loose. She was as tired as he was, and he was afraid anything too intense would be too much for tonight.

  He hadn’t thought either of them was really in that mood.

  “It’s not tight enough,” Kelly whispered, her full lips soft but unwavering.

  Caleb looked at her face silently, again trying to figure out what was going on. He was used to being in control, used to being competent, used to knowing exactly what to do.

  He wasn’t used to feeling like this.

  “What’s the point of this if I can pull my hand out? I want to do this, Caleb. You said I could try anything with you, and I wanted to try this. If you are going to do it with me, at least get it right.” She sounded more like herself, and there was a glint of clever impatience in her eyes as she slanted them up at him.

  Caleb stopped worrying, wondering, and retied the cord, more tightly this time. Finally, he let himself look at her for real, let his body enjoy the sight.

  Kelly wasn’t wild and playful right now, the way she’d been when she’d gotten him to spank her. She wasn’t full of that vivid, taunting sexual provocation he was used to from her. She felt deep, like there were layers to her he’d not even come close to exposing.

  He wanted to expose them, expose her. He wanted to know her for real.

  His cock was hardening quickly as he moved over her body to tie up her other arm. Her skin was cool and fair, a stark contrast to the dark cord. As he tightened the knot, her fingers wrapped themselves into a fist.

  When her hands were both tied, he backed up slightly. Her arms were spread out toward the posts of the headboard, and her full breasts were stretched across her chest. Her nipples were already hard, although he hadn’t touched them yet and it wasn’t cold in the room.

  He felt his body react even more intensely to the sight of her fair, naked skin and soft curves. He leaned in to kiss her deeply.

  She responded, her tongue darting into his mouth, dueling with his own. There was something about her kissing that was intoxicating—somehow both passionate and more than that, like a current ran beneath the passion he couldn’t quite name.

  Those elusive layers he could never reach.

  Eventually, he pulled away from her mouth and trailed kisses down to her neck. She was arching up into his mouth, into his touch, and her obvious need for him reached a tight ball of conflicted need in his own soul.

  “Caleb,” she breathed. “Not yet. You haven’t tied my ankles yet.”

  He raised his head to meet her eyes, but hers were closed. Her cheeks were flushed, and her head was tossing slightly, as if resisting a desire too compelling to fight.

  He thought about what she’d said—about how she never wanted to feel dependent, about how she couldn’t trust anyone enough to give up control.

  But she was doing so now. With him.

  Submitting completely.

  A feeling pulsed in his chest as powerfully as it pulsed in his cock.

  He moved to the bottom of the bed.

  He lifted up one of her small feet. He kissed the toes and the sensitive skin on the curve of the arch. Her breath hitched audibly when he licked her instep with a flick of his tongue.

  He returned her foot to the mattress and stretched the cord around her ankle, and then around the post of the footboard. Silently, he finished with her other foot, completely securing her to the bed.

  Now she was spread-eagled on his expensive sheets. Naked, vulnerable, entirely open to him.

  He had to close his eyes against the image of her strong, beautiful body in this helpless position, or he would lose the control he had remaining. His excitement must be obvious to her, since he was wearing nothing but his underwear.

  “What do you want me to do?” Caleb asked hoarsely, not yet touching her. For no good reason, his heart was pounding so violently that he was sure she could hear it.

  He had no idea how they’d even gotten here, when they’d been having quiet sex under the covers.

  Kelly looked at him with those wide, unfathomable eyes, her hair spread out around her face like some kind of damaged halo.

  “Take me,” she whispered.

  He moved over her, covering her supple body with his. “Tell me what to do,” he murmured, his lips hovering over her face. She seemed on the edge of something, and he was suddenly afraid of what would happen if she fell over it.

  “No. That’s not how this works. You get to do whatever you want to me.”

  It was an act of trust—or should have been. She was offering her body to him, allowing him total control, complete power. But it didn’t feel like trust to Caleb.

  It was something else entirely.

  And Caleb still didn’t know what that was.

  But he was fully erect, his arousal like a throbbing, aching presence on his body. And Kelly was the woman he’d been having sex with for two weeks now. She was asking him to take her.

  It wasn’t like he was going to refuse.

  He knew she wasn’t ready for him to enter her yet, so he didn’t even bother chec
king to be sure. Instead, he kissed her some more, gently at first, but then his desire took over and the kiss became hungry and urgent.

  When he felt her start to run out of breath, he pulled away and licked his way down her neck, spending a little time on the pulse in her throat. Through his tongue on her skin, he could feel that her heart was beating as erratically as his was.

  He reached her breasts. As he played with her nipples—one with his mouth and the other with his fingers—he heard her breathing grow heavier, and she started to make little whimpers and moans.

  He loved the sounds she made when he touched her, loved knowing that he could have that effect on her. Sometimes it felt like she was resisting how he made her feel, but the desire was too strong for her overcome. It was like an addiction, knowing she wanted him so much.

  He wanted her so much at this point that it was all he could do to keep from lifting her hips and driving himself into her hot, tight pussy. He started to say something—easy, seductive words to intensify her pleasure, the kind he’d always been good at—but he wasn’t confident of his ability to form coherent words.

  He concentrated on pleasing her, gave her breasts some more attention, then scooted down to her lower body, parting her thighs to make room for his shoulders.

  She was aroused now. Even if she hadn’t been groaning with pleasure, he would still know without fingering her. He could smell her from his position—a scent that did something strange and frightening to his belly and heart—and he could feel the heat she was generating.

  He started kissing her inner thighs, making his way up to her arousal.

  “No,” she gasped, her body squirming in obvious need. “Not that.”

  He looked up at her, more disoriented than ever.

  “I don’t want that. Not tonight.”

  She was obviously turned on, ready to come. Her body clearly wanted him to bring her to orgasm. He couldn’t imagine why she wouldn’t want him to go down on her.

  A flicker went through his mind, recognizing that he’d never done that to her before. He couldn’t remember at the moment if he’d ever even offered until now.

  He was processing this fact and starting to puzzle through it when Kelly rocked her body in the bindings, distracting him completely. “Caleb, please. I want you to take me.”

  There was something wild in her eyes now, something so conflicted and needy that he couldn’t look away from it.

  He rolled on a condom and moved over her again, kissing her and positioning himself between her legs. Entering the hot, tight clasp of her body was almost too much for his weakened restraint, and he had an embarrassing moment of losing control, making a few fast thrusts inside her before he could pull it together.

  “How do you want me to move?” Caleb murmured at last, forgetting he was supposed to be the one to make the decisions.

  Kelly wriggled beneath him, started pulling on her bound hands. “Take me hard,” she gasped. “Please.”

  He smothered a groan in response and readjusted his knees, every instinct in his body demanding him to thrust, to dominate, to take what he so desperately needed.

  She cried out when he started to fuck her hard, fast, shaking the bed, shaking her body.

  Pleasure and satisfaction howled in his head as he took her. Kelly grew hoarse from crying out so much, and she was frantically struggling against her tied wrists and ankles. She was trying to move her hips with his, the way she usually did, but she was spread so tightly that she couldn’t get very much leverage.

  He wanted this. Needed it. He felt the whole arc of his life channeled into this one act—this power, this craving, this absolute control.

  Kelly bound beneath him, begging him to claim her.

  When she’d lived her life in rebellion against trust and helplessness.

  And for some reason that thought provoked a flicker of recognition, even through the hot blur of animalistic appetite.

  He opened his eyes and saw her face again, twisted in pleasure, in desire, and in something aching, almost pained.

  The revelation slammed down on him like a vise, briefly halting the momentum of his climax. He stopped thrusting with a guttural sound. Pulled out of her. Started untying the silk cords.

  Kelly was whimpering, but not from desire anymore. “What are you doing? Why are you stopping?”

  Caleb didn’t answer until he had finished freeing her. He moved to stretch out beside her, pulling her into his arms. “We’re not doing this tonight.”

  “What?” She tried to pull away from him, but he refused to let her leave his embrace. “I told you—”

  “I don’t care what you told me. We’re not doing this tonight.” He gently rolled her onto her back again and moved over her, gently kissing her lips until she started to respond.

  Her whole body was shaking, and the pulsing tension in Caleb’s cock and chest both started building again.

  She wrapped her arms and legs around him, her body softening as the kiss deepened.

  And he was drowning in her, the surge of emotion so strange, so troubling. He gave himself over completely to the embrace, torn between wanting to run and wanting to comfort her. Wanting to demand she give him answers and wanting to protect her from anything that threatened. Wanting to fuck her and hating every man who ever had.

  She responded needily, clutching at his head, holding his mouth against hers, rocking beneath him.

  Until finally he was buried inside her again, her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, rocking together as his arousal started to climb toward completion.

  His desperate need was as much emotional as physical—both of them building, cresting, releasing together.

  He kept kissing her, and she kept shaking helplessly with suppressed emotion, but soon her body was shuddering through an orgasm and he was choking out a wordless sound as he came with hard waves of pleasure and feeling.

  He was still holding her against him when his body relaxed completely, even the hard, ruthless compulsion that had driven him all his life finally easing into a moment of peace.

  And his last conscious thought until he fell into dreamless sleep was that he’d never in his life had sex like that before.

  Chapter 7

  Kelly had completely fallen apart the night before, and she’d almost ruined everything.

  There was no excuse. She hadn’t liked the way they were having sex in bed initially—it was too traditional, too personal, too intimate—so she’d tried to turn it into something kinky, a vague scene out of one of her sexual fantasies so it would feel less emotional, less real.

  But it hadn’t worked. Even as he’d tied her up, it had felt deep, real, hard, and then he hadn’t even let himself go and taken what he wanted, the way she’d been expecting from him.

  He must have read some of her conflicted feelings and had responded in a way she never would have imagined.

  He’d been gentle, tender, giving as much as he took.

  And she’d wanted what he’d given, as much as she wanted what he took.

  When she’d come, it had felt like more than an orgasm was released.

  It was wrong. So wrong in every way that she couldn’t let it happen again. She had to be more careful, or she’d never be able to do what she had come here to do.

  All of these thoughts filtered through her mind before she’d even opened her eyes the following morning. As soon as she did, she realized she was still in Caleb’s bed.

  They’d slept all night together. They’d never done so before.

  She watched him for a minute. The way his dark hair, mingled with a few strands of silver, was rumpled and kinked up over his left temple. The way his bare chest rose and fell, the cover pushed down toward his belly. The way his long fingers gripped the sheets, as if he were under pressure, even in his sleep.

  He looked normal—like any other man—when the cool intelligence in his brown eyes and the power in his attitude was masked by sleep.

  In some ways, he was just like an
y other man.

  In other ways, he was more so.

  He wasn’t completely a monster. She had to admit that to herself after last night. He’d been careful with her, gentle, undeniably sensitive. He’d held her last night and given her what she needed—even though what she needed was the last thing she’d wanted.

  He couldn’t know that, though. He’d genuinely tried to be there for her, and there was no way for her to mentally turn it into something else.

  It didn’t matter. He didn’t have to be a complete monster to do what he’d done. And a few soft moments weren’t a sign that her mother was wrong about him.

  All it meant was that Kelly needed to pick up her pace, or she would never be able to accomplish her purpose.

  He trusted her as much now as he would ever trust her, so she needed to get moving. Any more time would only weaken her and allow him a chance to uncover her lies.

  Making a sound in his sleep, Caleb rolled over, and Kelly used the shift in position to slip out of the bed without waking him. It was just seven on a Sunday morning, but she couldn’t lie around looking at him anymore. She was already unnerved enough.

  He was still sleeping after she showered and dressed, so she went downstairs for coffee, and then she took a walk around the grounds with Ralph, the German shepherd.

  His place was really more of an estate than a house. There was a separate building for the garage, a swimming pool, tennis court, and stables—plus acres of grounds, some of it wooded, which she would never venture into.

  Just the thought of going into the woods made her queasy, and it made her cringe thinking of what she might have revealed to Caleb of her real self on Saturday in the park. She turned her back on Caleb’s woods and walked toward the stables—which were empty because he didn’t keep horses.

  They’d probably been part of the grounds when he’d bought this place.

  She and Ralph walked through the stables, and he dug an old battered ball out of a pile of hay and presented it to her.

  The ball was really pretty gross, but she took it outside and tossed it for him, watching him bound toward it, catching it on the second bounce.

  “I can’t believe you touched that old thing,” came a voice from behind her.