“Helpless?”
“Why not?” She took a step closer. “Aren’t I? After everything we’ve been through, everything we know about each other, it’s not me you come to but the gym? The goddamn gym, Damien? Would you let me get away with that? Going to the blade instead of to you?”
“It’s not the same.”
“Yes, it is.” She moved closer still, until he could smell the lavender scent of her body wash and see the beat of her pulse in her neck. Her eyes flashed as she grabbed the waistband of his briefs and tugged him closer.
“Do you remember after we got Anne back? The way you pulled away from me? I thought I’d lost you until that night on the tennis court. More important, I thought that after that night, we were past this, you thinking you have to protect me. You not understanding that I need you, too.”
She was crying now, tears escaping to trickle down her cheeks. “Dammit, Damien. You know how much I need you right now, just like you need me. And you do. I know you do, but, dammit, you’re torturing us both.”
She said the last with a frustrated shove to his chest, but he caught her by the wrists, then yanked her toward him, hating her words, but knowing they were true. He’d done the exact thing he’d chastised her over when she’d cut after Anne’s kidnapping. She’d gone to the blade instead of going to him.
And here he was, pummeling a bag instead of going to her, even though he knew—they both knew—that the only way to find his way again was through Nikki. He needed that control. Needed to feel something good and right. Needed to have her surrender because she wanted him and needed him as much as he needed her.
“Baby,” he said, but it was the only word he could manage before he had to claim her. His mouth closed over hers in a wild, violent kiss, all teeth and tongue and need and desperation. He wanted to get lost in the feel of her, the scent of her. She was his everything. His love, his life.
Most of all, she was his way back home. A tether to keep him grounded. A rope, to pull him out of this dark, black pit.
He kissed her deeper, his hand sliding between them to cup her sex through the thin athletic shorts she’d pulled on this morning. He slid his palm up her thigh, relishing the soft moan as his thumb stroked her tender skin. He deepened the kiss, lifting his hand in time with the way his tongue was fucking her mouth. Aching for the moment when his finger grazed her soft folds, slippery with desire.
He thrust his fingers inside her, then groaned as her body tightened around him. She moaned with pleasure, her body arching back as she silently begged him to go harder, deeper. He complied, wanting to make her wild. Wanting to watch her face as she came, knowing he took her there.
But he wanted so much more right now. Hell, he wanted everything. Wanted to take her. To claim her. Even more, he wanted her desperate for him. Wild and needy, unsatisfied until he decided it was time to let her come. He needed that, craved it. To experience the power and control she so willingly gave him, even when the rest of the world seemed steadfast in its attempt to defy him.
He pulled away, taking a step back and breaking contact. She whimpered in protest, her own hand slipping under the band of those shorts to continue what he’d started. Her eyes fluttered closed, her head tilting back. Her nipples were tight against her tee, tempting him, and she was biting her lower lip as her hand moved beneath the material of her shorts. He heard her soft moan as he stepped closer, craving the feel of her skin against his, her mouth pliant beneath his.
But he didn’t touch her. That wasn’t the game. Not yet. Instead, he spoke one word, clear and firm. “No.”
Her eyes opened, and she met his gaze, but she didn’t stop. On the contrary, her eyes locked firmly on his as her hand continued to tease her pussy, her other easing up underneath her tee to play with her nipple.
“Baby, you’re being very, very bad.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I know.”
Enough of that. He moved forward, grabbing her waistband and tugging her toward him before claiming both her hands. He lifted them above her head, his own hand capturing both her wrists. She looked at him defiantly, her brows rising. “Something you want, Mr. Stark?”
Hell, yes, there was. He wanted her. To have her. To tame her. To see her naked and on her knees, her gorgeous mouth around his cock as he held her by the hair while she took him right to the edge.
A nice fantasy, but it ended abruptly when she pulled free of his hand. She danced backward, away from him. Her skin flushed, her breath coming in gasps. And he knew her well enough to know that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. “Take off your clothes.”
She didn’t comply. Instead, she cupped her breasts over the tee, tilted her head to the side, and simply said, “No.”
His eyes widened, though he wasn’t sure if he was amused or frustrated. Either way, he was painfully turned on, and his wife was playing games. “Nikki…”
“You think it’s that easy?” She bit her lower lip as she stepped toward him. “Just tell me to strip, and I will?” She put her hands on his shoulders then rose on her toes so she could whisper in his ear. “Make me. Sir.”
His cock tightened, and he almost groaned aloud. He knew what she was doing—playing a control game. Manipulating him into taking what he needed. Into working through today’s frustrations on her. He understood all of that, and oh, God, he loved her for it. More than that, he needed exactly what she was offering. The fact that she knew it too—that they both understood each other so well—was both a miracle and the biggest turn-on of his life.
He stepped closer, then took the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head before tossing it onto the floor. He put his hands on her shoulders, then trailed them down, teasing the swell of her breasts before closing his hands over them. “Close your eyes,” he ordered, pinching her nipples as she did, then reveling in her breathy gasp and the way she arched back, as if giving even more of herself to him.
Need curled through him, his mind clear but his body firing with lust, with a desire to toss aside the teasing and the game playing and simply take. He wanted to, damn him. To use her. To have her. And the miracle was that she would not only let him, she wanted it, too.
Tempting. So damn tempting.
But he wanted something else more. Wanted to watch as she submitted to him. Wanted to see the flush on her skin as her desire built. Wanted to go slowly, taking and teasing until neither one of them could stand it any longer.
He dropped to his knees, his hands sliding down to her hips. He hooked his fingers in the elastic band of her shorts, then tugged them down. They were the kind with panties built in, and once they were gone, she was naked in front of him and so damn beautiful.
He cupped her ass, then pressed his lips above her navel, teasing her with kisses, lower and lower until his tongue found her clit. He sucked and teased until her hands clenched in his hair and she was grinding against him. Then he pulled back, tilted his head, and met her eyes. “You defied me.”
Her hand slid down her belly until her fingers reached her pussy. “Yes, Sir.”
He took her hand away and stood, his eyes never leaving hers. “Why?”
“You know why.”
Dear God, he was hard. “Nikki…”
“Because you like it when I’m bad.” She leaned forward, then reached out to cup his cock, now straining against his briefs. “I’d say you like it a lot.”