Living in Shadow (Living In…) Page 10

  It was. Completely. Yet she had to start somewhere, didn’t she? She wanted to be over this fear. And she didn’t know quite why, but she wanted to prove herself to Luc. Prove she was strong, that she wasn’t a coward. The way she had in the bar, spreading her thighs for him. Letting him touch her, responding to the challenge he’d set her…

  You trusted him then. You can trust him now. And you want this. You want this for yourself.

  Yes. She did want it. She was sick of denying her sexuality, of fighting it. And now that Luc knew, what was the point in pulling back?

  “Okay,” she said, her voice firming. “My safe word is…truth.” Because that’s what she wanted tonight. To be true to herself.

  “I like that. It’s appropriate. So, anything else? I don’t have any…uh…equipment if that’s what you want.”

  Eleanor blinked. Equipment. Jesus, please don’t say she was going to have to explain everything to him. Then again… For some reason, that made the tension loosen even further. “Do you actually know anything about dominance and submission?”

  Something in his eyes changed, the air around him charging with the intensity and focus he did so well. That charisma and authority that made her want to get down on her knees in front of him.

  “No.” His fingers tightened around her wrists and she was suddenly very conscious of the way he was holding her. And how exciting it was. “But you’re a professor, aren’t you? I’m sure you can teach me.” His mouth curved. “I’m a quick learner.”

  Her mouth dried. Maybe it should have made her anxious that he didn’t know anything about it. But it didn’t, perhaps because it made the power exchange more equal. And with Piers, the rules had already been written. With Luc, she could make some new ones.

  “Then you don’t need equipment,” she said shakily. “I like…restraint, so you can use any kind of fabric for that.” She’d once quite liked blindfolds, until that night in the club with Piers’s friends. Now, the thought of being blinded filled her with dread. Baby steps, right?

  “Restraint, I can do.” Luc released her and stepped away, the smile slowly ebbing from his face. Leaving that stern, hungry look in its place.

  She shivered, helplessly.

  “Turn around,” he ordered.

  Eleanor did, her eyes closing as he gripped the back of her neck in that possessive, dominant hold.

  “Come on. Down the hallway.” He exerted a bit of pressure, pushing her a little so that she turned and began to move down the darkened corridor.

  And with every step she took, that fear began to abate. There was something about his hand on the back of her neck that called up old, forgotten feelings. Of safety. Of reassurance. Of belonging. Of love.

  See past the fear…

  So she did. She tried to hold on to those old feelings. Tried to keep them close as they walked down the hall to an open door and through it into a bare room with the curtains open, letting light from the city outside in, glinting off the water of the harbor below.

  The room was bare of anything except the bed and a couple of bookshelves. No pictures on the walls. No art. And she stood there for a moment looking around, a strange sadness curling in her heart. Because there was nothing personal in this room. Nothing comforting. Nothing beautiful. It felt empty. Cold.

  And then Luc’s fingers slid around her neck, the warmth of them undeniable, the pressure gentle. She felt the heat of him at her back as his hand turned so his palm pressed to her throat. How did he know she needed this touch? How did he understand?

  She found herself relaxing back into him, all her muscles loose. Her body knew. Her body wanted this. And so she let herself trust a little bit more.

  Luc bent his head, his breath against her ear. “Take off your clothes.”

  It wasn’t a request but an order, her hands moving to obey before she’d even had time to process it. Taking off her blouse and bra, letting them fall. Her skirt, her panties. Stepping out of her shoes. Until she was naked and shivering, staring out into the city beyond the glass.

  “I’m going to tie your hands behind your back,” he said, a quiet statement of fact, not a question. There was a small silence and she realized with a strange jolt that he was giving her room to say something. Her safe word maybe?

  An odd emotion locked in her throat. He really was doing this for her, wasn’t he? A realization swept through her. That subconsciously she’d been expecting him to do this for himself, for his own gratification, not hers. And even out in the hallway, when he’d whispered in her ear it was all for her, she hadn’t believed him.

  Well, maybe she needed to believe him now.

  She didn’t say a word, merely put her hands behind her back in wordless acceptance of what he’d requested. He moved quietly and she wasn’t quite sure what he was doing until she felt him wrap something warm and soft around her wrists.

  “My T-shirt,” he murmured. “In case you were wondering.”

  Again she found herself shocked that he was telling her what he was doing. Answering the unspoken need she hadn’t even been aware of herself.

  “I wasn’t,” she replied, not sure why she was denying it.

  “Yes, you were.” He moved again, coming to stand in front of her. The light of the city was behind him; she couldn’t see much of his expression in the darkness of the room, only that he was looking at her. Studying her.

  She looked down instinctively.

  “I want to blindfold you,” he said. And began reaching for her blouse that lay on the floor.

  “Truth.” The word was out before she’d had time to consider it. Instinctive and absolute, as fear bit deep.

  He stilled, leaving the blouse on the floor, and slowly straightened. She could feel his gaze roaming over her, looking at her. But it didn’t feel threatening the way Piers’s sometimes had, as though he was looking for weaknesses to exploit. This felt as if he was studying her reactions for clues on how to proceed.

  “No blindfold then.” The words were absolute. “This way I’ll get to look into your eyes when you come.”

  Relief flooded through her, so intense she couldn’t speak for a moment. He was making this okay. He really was. Perhaps she could trust him with this after all.

  His fingers caught her beneath the chin, tilting her head back so she met his gaze again. “I need this to be what you want, understand?”

  She gave a jerky nod. She liked that rule. She wanted to keep it.

  “Good.” He stepped close, curling his arm around her waist, pulling her hard against his body. Running one hand down her front, a long caress that traced the curve of her breast before dropping to her hip, her stomach, he kept his gaze on hers the whole time. “Have you fantasized about me, Professor? In your office? Alone in your bed?”

  His touch made her ache, made her shiver. She couldn’t move and the soft fabric around her wrists gave her the most delicious feeling of helplessness. Oh fuck, she’d missed this. Missed this so much. “No,” she said, because she wanted more and to teach him to push her a little bit.

  He seemed to get the message. “No?” His hand settled on her butt, squeezing hard. She gasped, arching away from him, and he took the opportunity to shift his leg so one muscular thigh pressed between her legs. “I think you’re a liar, Professor. I think you’ve fantasized about me quite a bit. Tell me now, otherwise you don’t get to come.”

  Jesus, he was right about being a fast learner. Already she was wet, responding to the command in his voice like she’d been doing so all her life. “Okay, so yes,” she said breathlessly, “I have.”

  He squeezed her butt again, fingers digging into her flesh, not too hard, but enough to give her a slight edge of pain. Somewhere a memory lurked, threatening to drag her down, but she pushed it away, concentrating on what was happening now. And perhaps he could sense it because he shifted his thigh again, pressing tantalizingly against her clit, sending little shock waves through her. “Tell me,” he murmured, bending his head. “Tell me your dirty fa
ntasies, Professor. Right now or you can’t have my cock. And I know how badly you want it.”

  She took a shuddering breath, responding to the command in his tone. “I…I fantasized once about giving you a blowjob. In my office.”

  “A blowjob? How refined. Tell it like it is, Eleanor. The dirty words, I want to hear you say them.”

  The way his thigh was pressing against her let her know exactly what those words would do to him too. He was already hard. And when she looked into his face, she could see the hunger in his eyes. He liked it too. Which was important because as much as she liked this, she wanted him to get off on it as well.

  “I wanted to suck you,” she whispered, shuddering as he pressed his thigh harder against her. “I wanted to get down on my knees in my office and suck your cock.”

  The lines of his face became drawn and tight. He stepped back, one hand gripping her restrained wrists so she didn’t fall. “On your knees then,” he ordered. “And suck it like a good girl.”

  Her knees gave out as he lowered her down onto the wooden floor. It hurt but she didn’t care. She was ready for this. She wanted to give him back what he was giving her: pleasure. Confidence, forgotten and long buried, surged inside her.

  She knelt, waiting while he undid his jeans, and though she badly wanted to look at him, she didn’t. Keeping her head bent, waiting for his permission.

  And yet again, he was paying attention because he said, “You’ll get to look all you want later. For now, open your mouth and suck me.”

  So she did, opening her mouth as he freed himself, letting him guide the head of his cock past her lips, taking him in. She shuddered, the salty, musky taste of him hitting the back of her tongue, feeling his fingers tangled deep in her hair. God, he was so hot. And hard.

  She began to suck, moving her head, running her tongue along the length of his cock, his fingers a firm, guiding pressure. His hips moved in a gentle rhythm, his voice whispering things she didn’t understand.

  She closed her eyes, beginning to lose herself in what she was doing. In his taste. In the sounds he made. In the feel of his cock in her mouth.

  And then, abruptly his fingers were tight in her hair, pulling her away. “Non, ah non… Jesus, not yet…”

  She took a shuddering breath, taut with disappointment. “I’m sorry. Did I…do something wrong?”

  “No.” The word was ragged, hoarse, the look on his face tense. “I just have to fuck you right now. So get on that bed and spread your legs for me.”

  He was so close. So fucking close. He’d almost left it too late.

  Everything about this, about her, made him hard in a way he hadn’t experienced before. Something about the way she allowed herself to be bound. The way she let him pull her hair and put his cock in her mouth. How she knelt at his feet, waiting.

  This soft, beautiful, sophisticated, intelligent woman, ready to do whatever he wanted.

  His.

  He couldn’t believe what a fucking gift he’d been given. He was a killer. And no, she didn’t know that, but still. Slowly and by increments she was giving him her trust and…it touched that numbness in him. The ice. Melted it a little bit more. Made him feel, Christ, so much.

  It made him want to give her everything she’d been missing. Made him want to heal that broken part of her. Give her all the pleasure she deserved.

  And he would, he fucking would. If it was the last thing he did, he would help her overcome whatever trauma she’d experienced as a submissive. Make it good for her again.

  She wasn’t going to be able to get up by herself with her wrists bound, so he bent and gripped her hips, pulling her to her feet. Then he untied her wrists, dropping the T-shirt to the floor, and walked her over to the bed. “Lie down. Hold on to the headboard with your hands and don’t let go until I say.”

  He didn’t really know what the fuck he was doing, responding only to his own instinct and guided by her reactions, but he must have been doing okay because she did exactly what he told her. And when he pushed her legs apart and put his hand between them, she was wet. She shivered as he stroked her, sliding a finger inside and feeling the molten heat of her.

  She moaned softly, her hips lifting in response.

  But he pulled back, teasing her. Tantalizing her. He wanted to take this slow because out in the hallway it hadn’t been. And she deserved slow. She deserved intense.

  He straightened, looking down at her, at the picture she made in his bed, the lights of the city shining over her. Pale skin. White sheets. A beam of sunlight on shadowed ground.

  “Fuck…you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, caught for a moment by the vision she presented.

  She shifted again, twisting, her chest rising and falling fast, her small pink nipples hard. Ready for him.

  Luc pulled off his clothes as quickly as he could. Then, naked, he moved onto the bed, easing between her thighs, finally allowing himself the heady luxury of her bare skin against his. She gave another moan, shifting restlessly as she tried to get closer to him.

  He leaned down, nuzzling her throat then licking her, tasting the salt of her skin.

  “Luc…” His name was a soft sigh.

  It was good she was gripping the headboard tightly. Good she couldn’t touch him. He was so close he’d go off like a fucking firework.

  Reaching over to the nightstand, he pulled open a drawer and found the stash of condoms he kept there. He took one out and protected himself then leaned forward over her, shifting his weight onto one hand, placing the other on her throat, feeling her pulse against his palm. Alive, warm. Vital.

  Everything he wasn’t.

  But that was okay. Tonight in helping her reclaim what she’d lost, perhaps she’d help him reclaim a piece of himself too.

  He slid one hand beneath her thigh and, lifting it up and around his hip, he pressed his cock against the slick heat of her pussy. But he didn’t push as he looked down into her eyes.

  She was panting, shaking beneath him. And he was so hard it hurt. Yet he wanted to hold on to this moment, not let it go just yet. Her gaze was fixed on his, and he felt like this was the center of the universe.

  “Luc,” she whispered raggedly. “Please… Oh please… I want you…”

  “Watch me.” He began to push into her slowly. “Don’t take your eyes off me.”

  And she didn’t, her whole body trembling as he eased into her, slick and tight. She groaned softly, her eyes widening, pleasure flooding her face as he felt her climax almost immediately around his cock. It almost set him off too, but he held on because this was so not over. “Good girl,” he whispered, hauling her leg higher. “You come so beautifully.” He pushed in deep then withdrew, then another thrust, setting up a slow, intense rhythm.

  She whimpered as he moved, twisting on the bed. But she didn’t look away, her gaze fixed to his.

  “I like that.” He thrust harder, faster, watching her. “I like your obedience, Eleanor. I think I like it even more than the feeling of you coming around my cock.”

  She groaned. “S-stop talking. You’re killing me.”

  He paused, deep inside her, responding instinctively. “Who’s giving the orders here?” Perhaps she needed a reminder.

  “Y-you.”

  “And who’s the one in charge?”

  She took a shaky breath. “You are.”

  “Yeah, I am.” He pulled his hips back then thrust in again, tearing a sob from her. “Don’t push me, Professor. Though, if you want me to punish you, I will.”

  Something lit in her gaze before it was quickly smothered. Yet he saw it, oh yes, he saw it. She wanted more. But now wasn’t the time. If she was hiding it, then she wasn’t ready and he wasn’t going to push her too hard yet.

  You only have a night.

  Luc shook the thought away. He wasn’t going to think about that now. Not when she was here in his bed. Not when he was in the middle of losing his fucking mind.

  He thrust harder, the pleasure becoming vicious. Twistin
g him around, turning him inside out. He could feel her pulse become frantic beneath his palm as he moved, matching the beat of his own heart, the sound thundering in his head.

  In the end he was the one who looked away, because he didn’t want her to see him lose it, burying his face against her neck and listening to her scream as she came again. Then he let himself go, the climax shattering the darkness, a burst of bright light in his head.

  The silence afterwards seemed deafening and he lay there for long minutes, unable to move or speak, like he’d been broken apart and had to painstakingly rebuild himself.

  After a moment, he pulled away, moving wordlessly from her and getting off the bed, heading for the en-suite bathroom. Jesus, if he had to get away from her every time he screwed her, just to get himself back in hand, it was a good thing this was only going to be one night.

  When he came back out again, she’d turned over on her side, facing him, her eyes closed, blonde hair spread all out on his pillows.

  Yours…

  His heart ached suddenly. Only one fucking night…

  Ignoring the weird sense of dread that pulled at him, Luc crossed back to the bed. She began to turn over as he positioned himself behind her, but he put a hand on her back, stopping her. “No,” he said. “Stay like that.”

  “I take it sleep is out of the question?” Her voice sounded raw.

  Luc ran his hands down the exquisite arch of her spine and the soft, rounded curves of her ass. No, there would be no bloody sleeping tonight. Tonight she was his and he’d meant what he said. He wasn’t going to waste one fucking minute of it, not when he still had a few things to learn.

  “Sleep?” Gently he gathered the silken strands of her hair in his fist, tugging her head back. Then he leaned forward. “What’s that?”

  And bit her shoulder.

  Chapter Nine

  “You’re early this morning.”

  Eleanor glanced up from the report she was writing for the dean. James was standing in the doorway of her office, leaning against the frame.

  She gave him a smile. “Yeah. I’ve got a busy day today.”