Naughty Little Secret, Page 3

  Once he had her sated…then he’d reveal himself. They’d talk. And he would hope like hell she could admit to the something sizzling between them. He’d build on that. She knew he wasn’t a selfish workaholic like Tim, but she had to understand that he’d devote himself to her pleasure and happiness. She liked and respected him. They connected intellectually, shared plenty in common, such as a quirky sense of humor. But Lauren thought of him as her surrogate big brother/Tim’s buddy. He had to change her opinion.

  Starting tonight.

  Blood whipped through his veins, lashed him with heat, as he stepped into the nearly quiet bedroom and made his way across the shadowy space. The sounds of canned sitcom laughter, with the volume turned very low, reached his ears. Damn thing better not wake her, he thought with a scowl.

  She’d changed the furniture since Tim’s departure. Good. Even if the house was the same, for the girls’ sake, she’d replaced more intimate reminders of her marriage. In place of the Spartan mission-style furniture they’d had before, Lauren had bought pieces that looked feminine, golden warm, and stylishly weathered. An intricate wrought-iron headboard made him smile.

  All the curves and curls in that design would come in handy very soon.

  He reached her side, eased the bag onto the carpeted floor, and took a moment to contemplate the feast of female as he stared down into her placid face. Silvery tracks glistened on her cheek. Noah’s smile fell. Had she been…crying?

  He sank to his knees and looked closely. Yes, she had. The tears had fallen down her cheeks and dried as she’d drifted off. Even now, he could see her eyes were puffy, her nose a bit red.

  The sight hit him like a battering ram to the gut. If the tears had anything to do with her girls or anything else she held dear, he’d hold her and help her find a way to make it better. If it had anything to do with Mr. Mysterious, as she put it, failing to put in an appearance…well, he’d soothe her ache right now.

  Noah fished a pair of velvet-lined cuffs from his bag and gently slipped one around Lauren’s sleep-lax wrist. He frowned in concentration, his heart pounding like a sledgehammer into his chest. The next wrist, still tucked under her cheek, would prove more of a challenge. He had to do it without waking her. He couldn’t risk her panicking, thinking she had a burglar or rapist, and possibly hurting herself.

  While pondering the best way to move Lauren, she helped him out and rolled to her back.

  He nearly swallowed his tongue. The red lace of the camisole hugged the curves of her breasts. The little velvet laces could barely contain her. Soft, round flesh spilled over the cups, tempting him with the pounding need to get on top of her, get deep inside of her, make sure she knew she was his.

  One thing at a time…he reminded himself. Secure her, then fuck her. Waiting wasn’t an option. He’d already done plenty of that.

  Carefully, he reached for Lauren’s other wrist and brought it up to the waiting cuff he’d fed through one of the iron headboard’s curves. In response, she moaned, fidgeted, and pressed her thighs together. She wriggled her hips, then lifted them in his direction. Another moan, this one longer, lower, left her lush mouth. He started sweating again.

  Shit! Even in her sleep, the woman tested his control.

  With a muted click, Noah secured Lauren’s wrist in the cuff. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

  Everything was going according to plan. Lauren was ready sexually. If her body was available, her heart couldn’t be far behind. Her kids were gone for the night. He’d had gifts delivered. Her curiosity—and hopefully more—was aroused. And now, he had her bound to the bed, ready for anything and everything he planned to give her. All according to schedule.

  Tension squeezed his gut tight and engorged his cock even more as Noah tied a little black blindfold over her eyes and reached for the remote control. With the press of a button, the TV turned off, plunging the room into dark silence. Nearly ready, he pulled off his mask and gloves. Perfect.

  Gritting his teeth against the urge to rip off his clothes and get inside her now, Noah settled for leaning down and kissing his way from the swells of her breasts, up to her neck, then nibbling on her lobe.

  God, she smelled good. Clean. Like female sprinkled in…vanilla and musk. Something so her. Something sexy but not artificial. Lauren was too real to wear a lot of perfume. But her natural scent alone was enough to make him strain against the zipper and black denim strangling his cock.

  She stirred, shifted, moaned.

  “That’s it,” he whispered. “Wake up.”

  For an electric moment, she froze, suddenly alert. Then she stiffened and lunged against the handcuffs.

  Noah touched a tender hand to the center of her chest, holding her in place. With his other hand, he caressed her shoulder.

  When she opened her mouth to scream, he covered it and whispered into her ear, “I promised you naked skin and fantasies. Tonight. The whole night. Are you ready?”

  Chapter Three

  Lauren froze, the unfamiliar whisper echoing in her ears. The pounding of her heart almost drowned the sound out. Almost…but she could still hear him breathing. Hard.

  As he leaned against her, she could tell that his breathing wasn’t the only thing hard.

  Oh. My. God. The stranger was in her house. In her bed. Suddenly, she was terrified. She tried to remember everything she’d ever read about serial killers and rapists. But she was blank, rushed by a dousing of cold panic.

  Half his body lay over hers. Judging from the fact her feet tangled with his calves and his wide chest enveloped her in solid heat, he was built tall, at least six feet, and like a wall of iron. While he didn’t exactly pin her to the mattress, he made moving a challenge. Well, him and the handcuffs encircling her wrists.

  She wasn’t going anywhere, and he was making sure she understood that without a single word.

  Fresh fear zipped up her spine. Holy cow, Mr. Mysterious hadn’t failed to show up after all.

  Be careful what you wish for…

  Yeah, Lauren regretted that she hadn’t thought through the details of a stranger vowing to strip her down and fill her up. Instead, she’d focused simply on how nice it was to be noticed and wanted. This stranger had sneaked into her house, and he didn’t have a rousing game of checkers on his mind. Oh, God. Would she wind up a police statistic?

  “I can’t wait to be inside you, to make you mine.”

  His deep, husky voice penetrated her panic and scratched her senses. Adrenaline jolted her. She opened her mouth to scream…but his hand still covered it.

  Something about his words tore at her mind. I can’t wait to be inside you, to make you mine… His voice sounded both menacing and seductive. Did he mean those words to be a promise or a threat?

  Fear and thrill clawed at her belly. She couldn’t separate them. Her mind spun, her heart pounded, and an icy slide of dread shocked her bloodstream. With the erection he pressed against her thigh, he felt fully prepared to do exactly what he’d stated and had beyond adequate equipment with which to do it. Way beyond.

  For a flash of a second, she struggled. She should have told Noah she needed extra security. Should have called the police. God, how had this man stolen into her house? Handcuffed her to her own bed? Yes, she wanted excitement, but not the kind that meant she and her funeral arrangements would be the talk of the five-o’clock news.

  “Shh. You’re going to scream. Long and loud. But not out of fear. I won’t hurt you,” he promised. “Ever. Just pleasure you.”

  With one hand over her mouth, the stranger placed the other on her shoulder and skimmed her flesh just beneath the strap of her camisole. Instead of tearing into her, he stroked her, his touch torturously unhurried. Lauren held her breath as his fingers moved across her skin, closer and closer to her breast.

  What would he do? How would he touch her? It seemed unlikely he’d just seduce her and not hurt her. On the other hand, did the average serial killer have lingerie delivered t
o his victim’s office first? No.

  That realization only confused her more. She’d love to believe this was just a seduction. But why would he go to this much trouble just to get her into bed? She was hardly movie star gorgeous.

  For some reason, he had gone to great lengths to get her beneath him—and doing a damn fine job with his opportunity—as he traced the swell of her breast, toyed with the hint of cleavage above the camisole. She held in a gasp.

  Against her better judgment, tingles erupted. Her nipples peaked. Pleasure bubbled inside her, scraping against fear to create a totally new sensation. Jagged. Intense. Parts south suddenly gushed with moisture.

  Oh, God. She was out of her mind. Her stomach coiled with fear and she got wet when he touched her. What was the matter with her?

  Ashamed, afraid, aroused, Lauren trembled as his fingertips traced ever-smaller circles around her nipples. What should she do? Fight this stranger who’d invaded her home and promised to do the same to her body? Yes!

  But his gentle touch sent frissons of excitement dancing across her skin, sugary sensations that pushed past her resistance and roused the dormant woman inside her. God, would it be too wrong to give in to the heat building inside her and let him have his way this once?

  Before she could answer her question, he plucked at the ties of her camisole, gave a little yank, and the garment opened, fell away. Lauren couldn’t see, but the cool air caressing her nipples told her he’d bared them to his gaze. They tightened again. She held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t touch them.

  Hoping he would.

  “I’ve got to see this. See you.”

  At her side, he shifted, leaned away, dropping his hand from her mouth. Then she heard the little click of the small light on her nightstand. Though she could see nothing behind her blindfold, she knew a muted golden light now suffused the room.

  He curled his fingers around her breast and swiped a thumb across one of the peaks, groaning low and long. Lauren swallowed, her heart racing like a rollercoaster on a downhill run. He did it again. She bit her lip to hold in a moan.

  The bed dipped beneath his full weight again, and he continued his attention to her breast, squeezing, rolling the hard tip between his fingers. “Gorgeous. I’ve imagined…”

  His strained whisper scraped at her composure, her resistance. He burned her. Was she so desperate to be touched that a stranger who’d broken into her house and fondled her could turn her on? In a word, yes.

  “Who are you?” The shaking in her voice was unmistakable.

  “Shh. Later…”

  “But—”

  He transferred his attention to the other breast for a moment, plumping her flesh, stroking her nipple. Lauren’s words died, forgotten under an onslaught of sensation.

  “Your breasts are gorgeous, rounder than they look in clothes.”

  “I sometimes wear a minimizer bra,” she blurted.

  “Don’t. Ever again.” His voice was like the lash of a whip. “You’re too beautiful to hide.”

  Pleasure shot down her belly, centering right where he’d need it if he intended to get inside her. And the way she felt now, she didn’t think wetness was going to be a problem.

  Was she insane? Was she actually contemplating having sex with a total stranger?

  She couldn’t. Shouldn’t. It was crazy. Certifiable. Totally insane.

  All true, yet…Lauren felt his exhalation brush her lips, like he hovered right above her. Like he was going to—

  Before she could complete the thought, his mouth crashed over hers in a kiss that tore her breath—and every rational thought—away. Fear barely had time to flicker inside her before it was lost in the feel of his hot mouth sliding over hers, his strong hands tilting her head so he could find the perfect fit. He groaned deep from his chest.

  Lauren gasped at the scalding shock of desire jolting her. And her stranger took advantage of her parted lips, stealing inside and thrusting deep. She tasted his hunger, his hot, wild demand. Pure desire went to her head faster than liquor.

  The man could kiss, make a woman feel utterly possessed with just his mouth.

  He slid his hands beneath her in an urgent grip, pulling her under every hard, hot inch of him. Then those big hands grasped her thighs and pulled them apart. Lauren didn’t even have the chance to draw a breath before he settled into the cradle of her thighs, as if he belonged. Had every right to be there. With his muscled legs, he shoved her thighs wider.

  Lauren opened her mouth. She really ought to protest. But another wild sweep of his tongue through her mouth and a rock of his hips that bumped his impressive cock right against her clit made her swallow her words. Against her better judgment—did she have any left?—pleasure arced through her, undeniable. Liquid heat doused her, drowning her protests. Senses spinning, her body ached with need.

  He could soothe your ache. He could fulfill you.

  As if sensing her inner struggle, he swept through her mouth again with possessive abandon. He coaxed her with the slow demand of his lips, the tangle of his tongue with hers, the taut cradle of his arms around her. Harsh…but holding back to show her he could be gentle, despite the hunger she sensed whipped him every moment they touched.

  Lord knew it lashed her like a cat-o’-nine-tails.

  Had she ever ached this badly? Wanted with such sudden intensity? Hell no. If Tim had been able to do this to her, she would have never let the man out of her sight.

  “Want you,” he breathed harshly in her ear. “So damn bad.”

  His words made her belly—and something a tad lower—pulse with a ferocious beat. Lauren stopped fighting the battle she couldn’t hope to fight. He melted her. Completely. Made her dizzy. Crazy. She’d never known anything like it.

  Moaning into his mouth, she arched up to him and kissed him. He answered with a groan, curling his tongue around hers, entangling them again. She invited him to take his fill. She surrendered.

  The stranger didn’t hesitate to take his possession deeper. He held her face in his hands gently, as if she were precious to him. But his kiss… He took her mouth again in a fierce mating, desperate with hunger. The flame of his desire ignited her even more. Lauren felt every crush of his lips and lash of his tongue against her own deep inside her, where she was now soaking and aching and praying he would soon replace her craving with satisfaction.

  She fought the cuffs, wanting to touch him, to feel the sleek, hard flesh she knew lurked under his soft cotton shirt. They jangled with finality. Arching, entreating, she whimpered into his mouth. On their own, her legs parted farther, wrapped around him.

  “Yes,” he growled. “Give me everything.”

  He rocked against her again, and the ache between her legs tightened. She was on fire now. God, the heat raged inside her, demanding she know the taste of his skin, the feel of his bunching shoulders under her palms as he thrust every inch of his cock inside her.

  “Uncuff me,” she panted against his chest. “Please. I want to touch you.”

  “Next time. If you touch me now, I’ll explode.”

  He drew back, and she felt cold without him. Until she heard the rustling of clothing. He was undressing.

  This was happening, really happening. A stranger was actually stripping in her bedroom with every intent to have sex with her. Lauren would have thought she was dreaming if it didn’t feel so real.

  A whisper of misgiving shifted through her. “I’m afraid. I—I’ve never been tied down.”

  He leaned over her, and Lauren felt his heat seep inside her, the brush of his bare chest arousing. “Get used to it. I’m going to love having you bound and under me so I can watch you come while you’re at my mercy.”

  Oh, God. He’d already stripped down to his skin. Now, he was stripping her defenses. His wicked words, coupled with the confession that he wanted her badly, tore at her patience. But something tugged at her. Something familiar about his voice. Had she heard it somewhere?

  A fast, fierce kiss put an
end to the thought. His clever tongue swept through her mouth and captured hers. The kiss became a tango of shallow breaths and urgency, all fueled by his buttery-rich skill. He kissed her ruthlessly, like a man with just one thing on his mind.

  He was making her think about sex, too. In fact, she couldn’t think about anything else.

  The cacophony of sensations ricocheted through her body,