during their walk returned, icing his voice.
Cloth rustled, followed by two hollow thunks. Boots, she guessed. Cory hated being blind like this, and she bit back the sob forming. This was Duke’s world now. Forever dark. And while she might not have dropped that bomb or missile or whatever it was that blew up the campsite in Africa, she still felt partially responsible for his blindness. She would give him this night in apology.
Duke stalked the woman in the dark, focusing on her breathing and the heat she radiated. He liked the idea that she was helpless in the dark. That put him in charge, and he needed control, no matter how short-lived and nebulous.
He located her where she sat on the corner of his bed. Pushing her knees apart, he stepped between them and realized she wore a skirt. Duke yanked the shirt she wore over her head, and her long, and hopefully clever, fingers curled around his forearms. He ran his index fingers under her bra straps and flicked them off her shoulders before moving on to find and cup tits round enough to fill his palms.
She panted softly, and gulped at his touch. Her hands fell away before he felt a tentative tug at his shirt. He shoved her hands away, shackling them together by the wrist behind her back with one hand.
“Yes or no, Angie. If it’s yes, I’m taking you.” His voice was as thick as the air. “My way.”
“I—” His forcefulness intrigued her. “Yes.”
“Then no more talking. No nothing unless I give you permission. Understood?” He felt the fine tremor that ran through her. “Do as I say, angel, and you’ll get what you want.” He hooked the elastic waistband of her skirt with his thumb and discovered it was made of some crinkly material. Urging her hips up, he stripped it from her. “But I get what I want first.”
And he wanted her naked. He wanted to taste her. Wanted to feel all that skin beneath his hands. And her mouth. He wanted her mouth on him. Duke leaned in, nipped her bottom lip. “Last time I’m asking. Do you agree to this?”
“Let go of my hands.”
He merely slid his free hand down into her panties and tightened his grip on her wrists when her body jerked. “Not unless you say no. You tell me no, you get up and get the hell out. Right now.”
He waited, impatient but unwilling to force things. When she breathed a second “yes,” he found her lips with his, traced them with the tip of his tongue before pushing it into her mouth as his finger slipped inside her, teasing and arousing. This was a patient seduction as opposed to the imprisoning of her wrist.
Cory protested, pulling futilely against his steel grip, even as she tried to fight her panic. “Please,” she begged softly, though she wasn’t sure what she was pleading for. Part of her resisted the bondage while another part welcomed it, welcomed the loss—no, the surrender of her control.
She was hot and wet and trembling. He wanted to touch, to taste, to explore and exploit every inch of her. Releasing her hands, he pushed her back against the bed before moving down her body. He knelt, and when his mouth clamped over her, his tongue working under the edge of her panties to taste her desire, she detonated.
She grabbed at his hair, encountered the sunglasses and knocked them off. He growled, snapped the sides of her panties and jerked them between her legs. He spread her wider and shouldered in, licking, nipping, devouring. She choked, gasping for breath, but he only gripped her hips and continued to destroy her. Duke smiled against her pussy. She was his now. Here in the dark that was his world, this woman he’d picked up on a whim was his. He didn’t need his sight to make her cry out with pleasure.
Cory’s world was coming apart at the seams. Color swirled behind her eyelids—color from her imagination because the room remained pitch black. When she opened her eyes, there was nothing. She couldn’t discern the shadow man making love to her from the Stygian black
Cloth rustled, followed by two hollow thunks. Boots, she guessed. Cory hated being blind like this, and she bit back the sob forming. This was Duke’s world now. Forever dark. And while she might not have dropped that bomb or missile or whatever it was that blew up the campsite in Africa, she still felt partially responsible for his blindness. She would give him this night in apology.
Duke stalked the woman in the dark, focusing on her breathing and the heat she radiated. He liked the idea that she was helpless in the dark. That put him in charge, and he needed control, no matter how short-lived and nebulous.
He located her where she sat on the corner of his bed. Pushing her knees apart, he stepped between them and realized she wore a skirt. Duke yanked the shirt she wore over her head, and her long, and hopefully clever, fingers curled around his forearms. He ran his index fingers under her bra straps and flicked them off her shoulders before moving on to find and cup tits round enough to fill his palms.
She panted softly, and gulped at his touch. Her hands fell away before he felt a tentative tug at his shirt. He shoved her hands away, shackling them together by the wrist behind her back with one hand.
“Yes or no, Angie. If it’s yes, I’m taking you.” His voice was as thick as the air. “My way.”
“I—” His forcefulness intrigued her. “Yes.”
“Then no more talking. No nothing unless I give you permission. Understood?” He felt the fine tremor that ran through her. “Do as I say, angel, and you’ll get what you want.” He hooked the elastic waistband of her skirt with his thumb and discovered it was made of some crinkly material. Urging her hips up, he stripped it from her. “But I get what I want first.”
And he wanted her naked. He wanted to taste her. Wanted to feel all that skin beneath his hands. And her mouth. He wanted her mouth on him. Duke leaned in, nipped her bottom lip. “Last time I’m asking. Do you agree to this?”
“Let go of my hands.”
He merely slid his free hand down into her panties and tightened his grip on her wrists when her body jerked. “Not unless you say no. You tell me no, you get up and get the hell out. Right now.”
He waited, impatient but unwilling to force things. When she breathed a second “yes,” he found her lips with his, traced them with the tip of his tongue before pushing it into her mouth as his finger slipped inside her, teasing and arousing. This was a patient seduction as opposed to the imprisoning of her wrist.
Cory protested, pulling futilely against his steel grip, even as she tried to fight her panic. “Please,” she begged softly, though she wasn’t sure what she was pleading for. Part of her resisted the bondage while another part welcomed it, welcomed the loss—no, the surrender of her control.
She was hot and wet and trembling. He wanted to touch, to taste, to explore and exploit every inch of her. Releasing her hands, he pushed her back against the bed before moving down her body. He knelt, and when his mouth clamped over her, his tongue working under the edge of her panties to taste her desire, she detonated.
She grabbed at his hair, encountered the sunglasses and knocked them off. He growled, snapped the sides of her panties and jerked them between her legs. He spread her wider and shouldered in, licking, nipping, devouring. She choked, gasping for breath, but he only gripped her hips and continued to destroy her. Duke smiled against her pussy. She was his now. Here in the dark that was his world, this woman he’d picked up on a whim was his. He didn’t need his sight to make her cry out with pleasure.
Cory’s world was coming apart at the seams. Color swirled behind her eyelids—color from her imagination because the room remained pitch black. When she opened her eyes, there was nothing. She couldn’t discern the shadow man making love to her from the Stygian black
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