Craving Redemption: Forbidden Series #4 Read online

  “We might need this.” His expression is neutral. Anyone around us wouldn’t register what I know he’s thinking about, but I see it in his eyes. I might have only known him for a few short minutes in reality, but I see it: the desire behind the mask.

  With his fingers wrapped around the bottle and his other hand burning the small of my back, he guides me to the exit.

  I expect to head towards an awaiting taxi, so I’m surprised when he pushes me a little farther down the street and stops beside a gun metal grey Jaguar.

  I miss his contact the moment he pulls his hand away and reaches for the door. Pulling it open, he looks down at me. His face is hard, his lips pressed into a thin line, but his eyes are still burning with fire.

  “Thank you.”

  No sooner has my arse hit the leather seat than he slams the door shut and I watch as he makes his way around the bonnet towards the driver’s door.

  “Should you be driving?” I ask, realising that I’ve no idea how much he’s had to drink.

  “Do you trust me?”

  I consider my answer for a moment. His stare turns to me; he’s obviously waiting for my answer before committing to this.

  I could lie, but that’s not really my style, so instead I go with the truth and hope like hell it won’t put an end to this. “No. Quite honestly, I don’t trust anyone but myself.”

  “Good answer.”

  His foot presses down on the accelerator and the roar of the engine vibrates through me. My thighs clench and my nails dig into the leather beneath me.

  “Fuck.”

  I’m jolted back in my seat as the car lurches forward and sets off on a race through the city.

  It’s only a few short minutes before the car screeches to a halt in a part of town I know well.

  “You live here?”

  “Yeah, temporarily. Problem?”

  “No, not at all. Lead the way.”

  With his hand possessively placed on the small of my back once again, he guides me through the entrance of the building and towards the lift.

  Silently, he presses the button for the top floor and then turns on me. Taking a step back, I bump into the handrail and wobble on my heels a little. I’ve only had one drink, but I think him on top of that is enough to catch me off-guard.

  His steel eyes drop from mine in favour of my body. My temperature rises under his stare and my heart starts to race. Tingles follow his eyes as they travel around my body, and my muscles ache to reach out for him, needing to feel his skin against mine.

  The second he does step towards me, it's like the air has been pulled from the enclosed space. His scent gets stronger and my mouth waters to find out how he might taste.

  His forearms cage me in as he continues staring down at me. His eyes bounce between mine and I start to wonder if he can read something in them or if he’s trying to figure something out. Either way, I’m not sure I like it. I don’t need anyone trying to make sense of the shit in my head. What I really need is for someone to take it away, to allow me to forget all my fuck-ups and bad decisions. I’m pretty sure he’s very capable of that if he would just step into action.

  When the elevator doors open, signalling our arrival, he steps away once again, rests his hand where it seems to be quite at home on my lower back, and guides me towards an oak door.

  I expect to find a bachelor pad behind it. This man screams ‘minimalistic’ with black and chrome everywhere, so I’m a little surprised when the door’s pushed open and I discover a very plain, nondescript flat.

  Deciding not to focus on how he lives, I run my hand down his arm and turn into his body. “Which way’s your bedroom?”

  The muscles in his neck ripple as he swallows, making me desperate to run my tongue along them.

  “Down the hall, last room on the left. I’ll get glasses,” he says, holding up the bottle of prosecco that’s still in his hand.

  Turning so I’m walking backwards, I take in his body: the perfect fit of his white shirt stretching over his strong arms, and the open collar, sans tie, that allows just a hint of the tattoos hiding beneath, the crisp cut of the waistcoat and the slim dark trousers that clearly show off his excitement.

  He watches me until I’m forced to turn around and see where I’m actually going. Finding the door, I push it open and slip inside. Like every other room in this flat, it’s cream with wooden furniture, not really all that exciting, and nothing like the man himself.

  Spotting a door at the other end of the wall, I hope to find an en suite to freshen up in. I make quick work of my business before throwing my hair over my head to give it a little more volume and reapplying my gloss.

  I expect him to be waiting for me once I leave the confines of his bathroom, but I’m disappointed to find the bedroom still empty.

  The lights of the city beyond call to me, and I walk over to the huge window and stare out at the night sky and the lights in all the buildings beyond. We’re just high enough to be able to see over the building opposite and, without it in the way, there’s an incredible view.

  My heart continues its steady beat as the anticipation grows within me. He’s here somewhere—I can hear him, but why is he not in here with me? There’s no way he’s regretting this. He was as on board as I am when we arrived.

  Worrying my necklace, I wonder if maybe he’s waiting for me to find him. Deciding to take matters into my own hands, I turn but don’t get a chance to take a step, because he’s there, standing in the doorway, filling the space with his solid frame. My mouth goes dry and I fight to swallow. His waistcoat is gone and his shirt’s unbuttoned, giving me an even better view of the hard lines of his muscles and the intricate patterns of his ink.

  He steps into the room and places the bottle and two glasses onto a dresser before returning his attention to me.

  “Come here,” he demands.

  My feet move of their own accord until I’m standing inches from his body. His heat seeps into me and moisture floods my mouth once again. I swallow it and lick my lips as my eyes flit down to his. I need to feel them on me once again.

  My nipples pebble against the fabric of my dress, and the lace between my legs gets wetter the longer he stares down at me.

  “You get one warning.” A shiver runs down my spine at his deep, scratchy voice. “I tell you what to do, you do it. Got that?”

  Holy shit. My knees tremble with need for this man to do exactly what he wants to me. I hoped he’d be dominant and demanding, and, so far, he’s excelling my expectations.

  “I need you to trust me not to take it too far. This is about pleasure, not pain.” He winks, and my stomach lurches. “But if you need to stop, say…” He pauses as he thinks of a word.

  “Pineapple.”

  “Pineapple?” His brows pull together in amusement, and I shrug. “What’s your name?” I ask, suddenly realising that the only thing I know about this man is where he lives. “I need to know what to scream when you make me come.”

  “When I allow you to come, you can call me anything you like, sweetheart.”

  “Huh.” I would have put money on him requesting me to call him Sir…or even Daddy.

  “Anything else?” Something sparkles in his eyes, I’m not sure if it’s amusement or frustration that we’ve barely started and I’m already not doing what I’m told.

  “Um…no, I think I’m good.”

  “You think?”

  I take a small step towards him and run my fingertips down the skin his open shirt exposes. He doesn’t react apart from the ripple of his abs when I get to them.

  I flinch when his warm fingers brush my shoulders, pulling my spaghetti straps down and allowing the fabric of my loose-fitting dress to flutter down my body and pool at my feet. I gasp when the cool air surrounds my breasts and my nipples tighten, begging for attention.

  Taking a step back, his eyes drop and he bites down on his bottom lip as he takes his time assessing what I’ve got to offer. My insecurities threaten to make themselves
known, but I fight them down. I desperately want to say something sarcastic, but his earlier dominant tone stops me. I don’t think he’d be amused right now.

  “Get on your knees.”

  My eyes fly up to his, shocked by his bluntness but not the least bit turned off. How I’m feeling right now is very much the opposite.

  Following his instructions, I drop to the floor and immediately reach for the waistband of his trousers. I can already see his cock straining against the fabric and, in my haste to unveil it, I fumble about with the button.

  His eyes burn into the top of my head. I can feel his frustration levels growing the longer this takes me, but at no point does he help me out. I’m not usually this much of a klutz, but there’s something about his steel eyes and dominance that has me off-kilter.

  Eventually the fabric parts, and I’m able to push both his trousers and boxers down his muscular thighs. His cock springs free and my eyes widen before flying up to his.

  Usually I’m irritated by the arrogant smirk that plays on a guy’s lips, but team

  it with his intense eyes and it only makes me want him more.

  His eyebrow lifts and I remember that I was doing something before I got lost in his dark stare.

  Looking back down to his cock, I lick my lips, take it in my hand and run my tongue around the head. A loud groan filters down from him. It’s all the encouragement I need.

  Licking down his shaft, I revel in the feeling of it twitching under my touch. Smiling, I pull back and watch as my tiny hand wraps around his width and pumps him a few times before leaning forward once again and taking him in my mouth.

  “Fuck,” he grunts above me, and I push him deeper until he hits the back of my throat. His fingers twist in my hair, his grip painful but not unwelcome as I continue working him.

  Dragging my nails down his stomach and thighs results in his pre-come coating my tongue. Lapping at the head, I take everything he’s got.

  He’s getting close when I’m forcefully pushed back and then pulled to my feet. His lips slam down on mine, one hand gripping the hair at the back of my head and the other on my arse as he walks me backwards. His hard body presses against my curves, making me desperate to feel us skin to skin. Reaching up, I push the cotton from his shoulders so I can run my palms over his bare upper arms.

  We must reach the bed, because suddenly I’m released and pushed backwards. My arse bounces on the edge and he reaches for my knickers, ripping them from my body before he finishes the job I started with his clothing and pulls his shirt from his arms and his trousers and boxers from his legs.

  My eyes feast on the inches upon inches of toned skin before me. If it wasn’t already abundantly clear with his clothes on, then it is now: this man works out, and works out a lot.

  I’m in pretty good shape, but I’m by no means a gym bunny, and I suddenly feel a little less confident about my body. It only lasts a few seconds because he wraps his hands around my thighs, pushing them wide and forcing me to lie back as he drops to his knees. Needing to witness what he’s about to do, I prop myself up on my elbows and stare down as he lowers himself to my centre.

  He blows out a stream of hot breath that has my hips lifting from the bed and my fingers gripping the sheets beneath me.

  His low chuckle has more desire pooling at my entrance. He hovers less than an inch away from me and I can already feel my anticipation building. It’s been quite a long time since I saw a man’s head between my legs, and even longer since one looked quite as fucking good as he does right now.

  I’m just at the point of voicing my frustration when he moves forward, parts me further and sucks my clit into his hot mouth.

  “Argh,” I cry out as every muscle in my body pulls tight with pleasure. He continues sucking, my back arching off the bed in my need for more, then he presses his tongue down on my clit and it’s like my entire body sighs with relief. This has been a long time coming, and it grows faster than I’ve ever known.

  He eats me like no man ever has before. He oozes confidence with his considered movements and teases to the perfect spots. The feeling of him stretching me open with two of his fingers is almost enough to push me over the edge, but just as I think I’m going to fall he stops all movement. My core clenches are nothing as my entire body aches and mourns the pleasure I was right on the brink of.

  “Jesus, fuck.”

  His eyes flit up to mine and I swear they’re fucking smiling while my chest heaves and I fight to demand he continue. It would be pointless; it’s abundantly clear that only one person’s demands are to be heard in this room, and they sure as fuck aren’t mine.

  Sitting back, a smile tugs at his lips. I don’t know what I expected; he’s already warned me about letting me come.

  Starting at my thigh, his lips trail up my body as he crawls on top of me. He licks a line up the centre of my stomach before stopping to suck each of my nipples into his mouth, electric sparks shoot straight to my core, keeping my release just within touching distance. My fingers tangle in his hair in an attempt to keep him there, knowing that if he continues long enough it’ll be enough to push me over the edge.

  When his fingers find my pussy once again, I start to believe he’s going to allow me to come, but, just like before, he has me right on the edge before he pulls his fingers out and his hot mouth away from my body.

  “You’re a fucking tease,” I manage between my laboured breaths.

  “Don’t pretend you don’t fucking love it.” Lifting his fingers, I expect him to bring them to his mouth, but instead he runs one along my bottom lip. “Open.” I do as I’m told, and he slides the two fingers that were just deep inside me into my mouth.

  His eyes flash with desire as I close my lips and wrap my tongue around them. The silver I spotted earlier is almost like diamonds as he stares down at me like he’s about to devour me.

  “Fuck.”

  One second I’m sucking on his fingers, and the next his lips are on mine in an all-consuming kiss, his body pressing mine into the mattress. My hands lift from the bed and I find the hot, smooth skin of his back. Dragging my nails down, a moan rumbles up his throat, but I swallow any noise that might have erupted.

  He moves so he’s back between my legs, his cock nudging at my entrance. I push up, trying to find what I so desperately need, but one large hand on my hip stops any further movement.

  “When I say,” he repeats, his eyes not leaving any room for argument.

  He continues rubbing himself against me, driving me fucking crazy with need before folding himself over my body, his breath tickling my ear when he comes to a stop.

  “Unless you stop me right now…I’m taking you bare. I’m clean, I swear.”

  “Oh fuck,” I moan, my imagination running wild with how his thick length will feel, stretching me open and filling me completely.

  Chapter Three

  My back arches, my nails scratching across his shoulders as he thrusts inside me. My muscles clench as my body tries to accept his size after being ignored for so long.

  “So fucking good,” he groans into my neck.

  He thrusts his hips slowly a couple of times, like he knows I need a moment, before he sits up, slides his hands under my arse and lifts me just so. I squeal as he hits me in the perfect position, my nails digging into the skin of his thighs. My breasts bounce, my skin flushing as he slams into me, over and over. His grip on me is bruising, and I know I’ll have his fingertips marked on my skin for days, reminding me of this. Coming here with him might be irresponsible, irrational, but right this second it’s the best decision I’ve made in a long fucking time.

  “Oh god. Fuck. So good.”

  “Eyes,” he barks when mine flicker closed. They immediately fly open at his demand and lock onto his. “You going to come around my cock?”

  “Yes, yes,” I chant as he continues to pound into me. “Please.” My voice is almost begging. It’s so close I can almost taste it, but I fear I might not be allowed it yet—and
I’m right, because just as the beginning of my release tingles in my lower stomach, he pulls out of me and flips me over.

  With my arse in the air and my face smashed against his pillow, he lines up and thrusts back into me. I cry out, this angle and his length almost too much to bear, but he doesn’t let up as he fucks me into next week.

  “You on birth control?” His voice is low and deep, and I barely hear it.

  “Yes.”

  One of his hands fists my hair, keeping my head low, and the other continues to grip my hip painfully hard, my arse slapping against him with every thrust until he releases my hip right before I’m about to crash over the edge. My orgasm hits at the exact same time his palm slaps down on my arse cheek. The sound of the slap can only just be heard over my cry as my release completely takes over my body. I swear I black out for a few seconds, and when I come back around it’s just in time to hear his growl of pleasure fill the room and feel his cock swelling inside me as he fills my pussy with everything he has.

  “Fuck,” he heaves, pulling out of me and falling to my side.

  Sitting myself on the edge of the bed, I slip my shoes off and prepare to stand and find my discarded clothing. Once I’m confident my knees will hold me, I begin to wobble my way towards the bathroom, the semen he filled me with starting to run down my thighs.

  “Grab the bottle on your way back.”

  Looking over my shoulder, I watch as he rolls onto his back and throws one arm over his eyes, his entire body on full display without a care in the world—but to be fair, if I were sculpted like that, I’d probably be more than willing to show it off as well.

  I run my eyes down his chest and come to a stop on his cock. Even half-mast it’s impressive. A deep ache inside me makes itself known, but we’ve had our fun. It’s time for me to get the hell out and get home before Joe sends out a search party.

  I do the best job I can of making myself look slightly respectable, but my cheeks are still flushed, and my green eyes are bright with desire.

  I can still feel him inside me as I reach for the door handle and go to step out. The second I cross the threshold, his eyes are on me. I scoop up my ruined knickers when I find them, followed by my dress.