Big Bad Marine Page 9

  Duchess and Rose had given him that purpose. But protection wasn’t easy and sometimes, in order to keep someone safe, you had to make sure they understood what they needed to be kept safe from.

  Rose didn’t know. So he had to show her.

  The scent of her arousal was getting stronger now, her soft flesh getting slicker beneath his finger. She was trembling all over, a small sparks of excitement glowing in her eyes.

  And he liked that, too.

  “Now, if you can’t obey those few little rules,” he went on softly, sliding his finger down from her clit, through the slick folds of her pussy then back up again, a long, slow up and down motion. “Then I’ll turn you over my knee and spank that pretty ass of yours until it’s bright red first.” He slid his finger back down again, stroking her lightly. “Nod your head if you understand.”

  “But you can’t—”

  “I said, nod your head if you understand.”

  Her throat moved, a light sheen of sweat gleaming on her skin and her mouth opened, as if she was going to say something more.

  “You going to test me, darlin’?” he asked softly, allowing an edge of menace to creep into his voice and letting her hear it. “Believe me, I’m not a man to hand out empty threats.”

  She said nothing, staring at him, but the defiance in her eyes glowed brighter, as he’d hoped it would. And he felt the electric jolt of it as if she’d reached down and taken his cock in her hands, and squeezed hard.

  He’d been with women who’d given him the same kind of defiance, but it hadn’t made him breathless with desire the way he was now. Hadn’t made him so hungry he wanted to growl like an animal. Like he couldn’t wait to get inside her. And he didn’t what it was about Rose, whether it was the combination of vulnerability, sultry sex appeal, and undeniable sweetness that was all her, or something else. But whatever it was, he was hard. Harder than he’d ever been in his life.

  He paused his stroking finger, holding her gaze with his. “Well, baby girl? Are you sure you want to go there?”

  Rose blinked rapidly, a shudder going through her. But that glimmer of defiance was getting brighter and brighter, as was her excitement. “F-Fuck you,” she stuttered and lifted her chin.

  Exhilaration flared inside him, along with a deep satisfaction that he didn’t look at too closely, because he didn’t want to know what that said about him.

  Instead, he dropped his hand from her and sat back in his chair, looking up into her defiant blue gaze. He smiled, slow and easy. “Wrong choice, darlin’.”

  Then he pushed himself abruptly to his feet.

  She took an unconscious step back. But she was hobbled by the jeans and panties around her thighs, so it was no trouble at all to grab her and toss her over his shoulder.

  Rose gasped, her whole body going tense, maybe in preparation to try and get away from him, but by that time he was already sitting down on the edge of the bed, arranging her across his knees with her perfectly shaped ass in the air.

  Only at that point did she give a cursory struggle, but he had no difficulties in holding her down, putting an arm across her back and leaning on it, using his weight to keep her pinned.

  She was panting, her breathing loud and fast, and she had her face turned away against the gray and pink quilt that covered the bed, so he couldn’t read her expression. But she was trembling.

  Was it fear? Or was it something else?

  “You with me, darlin’?” he asked. “Or do you want me to stop?”

  “Stop? Are you kidding me?” Her voice was ragged but utterly certain. “Do it.”

  Ah, his brave, stubborn girl.

  A feeling he couldn’t identify rushed through him, something hot and raw. But he decided not to examine that too closely, either. Instead he straightened, raised his hand, and brought it down on the pale skin of her ass.

  Hard.

  Rose jerked as West’s palm came down on her butt, sudden and unexpected tears filling her eyes, because fuck, it actually hurt.

  What did you expect, you stupid idiot? That he wouldn’t do it? He warned you.

  Yes, she couldn’t say he hadn’t. Couldn’t say he hadn’t given her more than a few chances to avoid this, either. But she’d ignored the warnings, simply unable to stop herself from keeping on doing what she always did and testing him, pushing the boundaries.

  She didn’t know why she had to keep doing that.

  Sure you do.

  Rose blinked the tears from her eyes and inhaled, only for his hand to come down on her butt again, sending another sharp jolt of pain through her. The breath left her body in a rush and she had to bite down on the cry that threatened to escape along with it.

  Was there really a reason or was it because she was crazy? Sometimes the need she had inside her to push him, find out what his limits were, was so strong it certainly felt like she was crazy. Like now, lying across his legs as he laid his palm across her butt.

  Because you want someone strong to test yourself against. Someone safe, who won’t hurt you like Mason hurt you.

  West slapped her again, the sound of flesh hitting flesh loud in the room, and this time the weirdest sensation went through her. Because yes, he was hurting her, and yet it wasn’t the way Mason had hurt her.

  Mason had assaulted her. But this wasn’t an assault. This was something she’d chosen. Something she’d wanted. And there was pain, but it didn’t make her feel weak. It didn’t make her feel shocked and small and vulnerable. This pain made her feel…strong.

  Because it’s him. It’s West.

  Rose closed her eyes, a strange exhilaration sweeping through her, an intense rush of adrenaline. A kind of thrilled excitement that had her heart racing and her body shaking even harder.

  Of course, it was him. Only he could do this to her. She would never let anyone else, because she only trusted him. She trusted him implicitly. He would never hurt her like Mason had. West wasn’t a bully. He never let his anger control him. She could push him, test him, and test herself and everything would be alright. He would keep her safe.

  His hand came down again, but this time he stroked one butt cheek instead, then squeezed it gently. Then his fingers slipped between her thighs, grazing the folds of her pussy, lightly stroking, threading pleasure through her along with the pain.

  She gasped in delight, squirming against his hand, because it felt so goddamn good and so goddamn right.

  West was her safe space, that’s why she pushed. Because he never broke. Because he was always patient, putting up with her tantrums and her attention seeking without complaint. She’d wanted to find his limits, wanted to see what would happen when she finally crossed the line, and now she knew.

  It thrilled her beyond reason.

  “You holding up, darlin’?” His stroking fingers were insistent and yet still so unbearably gentle. The contrast between that touch and the hard slap on her butt was insanely erotic. “Or do you want me to go easy on you?”

  There were tears in her eyes again and she had to blink them away, a shudder sweeping through her as West’s fingers found the entrance to her body, circling over her slick flesh, teasing her.

  “No, don’t go easy.” She tried to press herself into his hand, shifting her hips. “I’m not made of glass.”

  He gave a low, sexy laugh. “You’re loving this aren’t you? Knew you would.” His fingertip eased inside her, making her stiffen and gasp, while at the same time he slapped her butt again with his free hand, weaving the pleasure and pain together into a tight, hard knot inside her. “It’s what you need, Rosie girl. Some firm boundaries.”

  Yes, she did. And she wanted him to give them to her. Show her where they lay so she could push against them, test herself. Because oh, God, this was insanely good.

  She groaned as he slid the tip of his finger deeper inside her, her ass lifting in the air as he teased her.

  “Bad girl,” he murmured. “You got to keep still. When are you going to learn to do as you’re told?”
He spanked her again with his free hand, delivering a hard smack while that other, teasing finger pushed deeper.

  Oh, he was supposed to be showing her exactly why she should be afraid of him, yet she wasn’t afraid. She was exhilarated. Excited. And so turned on she couldn’t speak.

  Who knew this was what she’d been wanting this whole time?

  West’s hand landed again and the wild rush of exhilaration intensified, making her feel so good. Like she could lie here forever taking whatever he wanted to dish out. Pleasure, pain, whatever it was, she could deal. She could handle it. She was strong.

  His hand cracked across her flesh once more and she moaned, pressing into his touch as his finger pushed all the way inside her, turning all that pain into a pleasure so acute she couldn’t figure which was which.

  But maybe it didn’t matter. It was sensation, hot and raw. It was a storm and she wanted to throw herself into it, be battered around by it, and yet emerge triumphant.

  “You never answered my question,” West murmured, sliding a second finger inside her, intensifying the burn as he squeezed her sore flesh with his other hand. “I want to know how many men you’ve been with. Tell me, darlin’.”

  His voice was low and soft, that thick drawl rolling all over her and she was panting, her hips moving against his hand, trying to find the friction, trying to find the release that was getting closer, almost there.

  “W-West…please…” she gasped, her fingers gripping hard to the quilt.

  “You know what you have to do.” A heavy palm pushed on her back, holding her down so she couldn’t move her hips. “You want to come, you give me what I’m asking for.”

  Her skin was burning, every nerve-ending on fire, and part of her wanted more, to see how far he would go with her. How far she could go herself. But the quilt under her head was damp with tears and she was shaking so much she felt like she was going to come apart.

  “No shame in giving in, baby girl,” he went on in a quieter tone. “You don’t have to prove yourself to me.”

  The words caught at something inside her and pulled hard, making her throat get tight. Because she really didn’t know how he’d guessed. He’d never seen the blow that Mason had dealt to her pride as he’d shoved his hand between her thighs. Or how she’d gone still, like a prey animal before the predator, her mind blanking with repulsion. And he hadn’t heard her promise Mason in a shaky voice that she’d let him do whatever he wanted if he only left Lily alone.

  Because that’s all the plan she’d managed to come up with that day she’d visited him, desperate to help her sister in any way she could.

  No one knew about that little bargain. And now no one would, because Mason had been killed in a robbery gone wrong a couple of years ago, and she was never going to tell another living soul.

  Rose relaxed against West’s hard thighs. “One,” she said hoarsely. “Just one.”

  He was silent for a long moment. Then his hand moved again, sliding underneath her, his fingers finding her clit and pinching it at the same time as the fingers inside her began to move in a slow, relentless rhythm. Building the pressure higher, tighter. Until she felt the climax barreling down on her, fast and hard like a bullet from a gun.

  She stiffened as it hit, turning her face into the quilt and screaming into the mattress as it rushed over her, an intense, blinding ecstasy that tore her apart and scattered the pieces into the wind.

  She lost herself for a bit after that, completely overwhelmed, letting herself drift, the quilt damp beneath her cheek and her limbs full of a blissful heaviness that made her not want to move for the next one hundred years or so.

  Then West shifted her gently off him and the bed dipped as he got off it. She turned her head, blinking as the light rushed in, trying to see where he was. And then came the sound of fabric rustling and the crinkle of foil being ripped.

  Yes, please, God. Yes.

  A shiver raced over her, desire seeping back like the tide coming in and she wanted to turn over, to watch him, because if he was naked then she wanted to see it, that was for sure. But then she’d been crying and she didn’t want him to know what a mess she was, so she stayed put, turning her face against the quilt again.

  The bed dipped once more as he got back on it, and those large, rough, calloused hands gripped her hips and turned her over. She threw an arm across her face in an instinctive attempt to hide herself, but he took her wrist and gently but firmly, pulled it away.

  She blinked to find him kneeling between her spread thighs, his hands braced on either side of her head. His eyes had gone from pure silver to a dark, stormy gray, and he was looking intently down at her as if he was trying to read her mind.

  Her mouth went dry. He was so very, very naked and so very, very close. And almost exactly like all her fantasies of him.

  No, scratch that. He was better.

  Wide, powerful shoulders above her, hard muscled chest and abs lightly dusted with dark gold hair. All his tattoos were on show, especially the eagle emblazoned on his chest, the ink showing dark against his tanned skin. Her gaze wandered further down, to his lean hips and…oh…yes…Holy Jesus. She’d imagined he’d be pretty much in proportion, but she hadn’t guessed he’d be that much in proportion.

  “Hey.” His hand caught her chin, tilting her head back so her gaze came to his. “Up here.”

  She took a ragged breath. “What?”

  He frowned, studying her face, obviously noting the tear tracks and maybe seeing the dents in her lip where she’d bitten it. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” The word sounded unsteady, though, no matter how hard she tried to firm it.

  He lifted one hand, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “Did I hurt you, darlin’?”

  Rose swallowed. “Well, yeah. You did.” Because she wasn’t going to lie, those spanks had hurt. “But wasn’t that the whole point?”

  The expression on his face was difficult to decipher. “Yes.”

  “But I liked it,” she rushed on, before he could get the wrong idea. “It felt really good.”

  The look in his eyes intensified. “I hope so. Because it’s not over yet.”

  Another wash of desire went through her, higher this time, the tide rising. “Well, I guess you’re naked for a reason, right? So I’ve had spanky West. Do I get hard and rough West now?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up in one of his sexy smiles and he shifted, that long, hot body easing up against hers, making her tremble and gasp as his weight settled on her. “Yeah, you do.” His voice had an edge that made the heat coiling in her gut tighten even further. “Hope you’re ready for it.”

  “Are you kidding me?” She moved restlessly beneath him, lifting her hands so she could touch him, wanting to feel all that firm muscle, all that strength under her fingers. “I’ve been waiting for this my entire life.”

  But, before she could land a hand on him, his strong fingers circled one wrist and pushed it back against the pillow beside her head, then he held it there as he did the same to her other wrist. Pinning her with the same firm gentleness that he’d used when he’d put her over his knee.

  The feeling of restraint made a shudder course down the entire length of her body.

  Oh, boy, was this the hard and rough part? If so, she was into it. She was so into it. Except she really did want to touch him, and not being able to was frustrating. She made a soft protesting sound, but he ignored it, keeping her hands where he wanted them, his body weight pressing down on her so she couldn’t move. Holding her still.

  “I want in that pussy of yours, baby girl,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his mouth over hers. “I want to fuck you hard, make you scream. Pay you back for all that teasing you’ve been doing.”

  The roughness of his voice, the dark edge, sent more delicious shivers through her and she couldn’t keep still. She lifted her hips, the hard length of his cock resting against her thigh. God, she wanted him inside her. After so many years and so many fantasies, she want
ed him now. Right freaking now.

  But all he did was lay there unmoving, pinning her.

  “Come on then.” She squirmed beneath him, the heat and pressure of his body making her kind of crazy. He smelled so good, too. Of leather and oil and that musky, masculine scent that was all West. “Do it. Fuck me like you said you would.”

  Slowly, he shook his head, staying right where he was. “You still don’t get it, do you?” The last of the sun was coming through the windows, striking deep gold lights in his shorn hair, and highlighting the strong, proud lines of his nose and jaw. Making dark shadows of his stormy eyes. “You don’t get to call the shots here. I do. And I’ll fuck you when I want and not before.”

  She didn’t know how he did it. How he managed to give her a screaming orgasm and now, not five minutes later, was bringing her close to losing her mind yet again. And he hadn’t even done anything except lie on top of her and tell her a few dirty things.

  Her breathing was sliding out of rhythm once more, getting all ragged and harsh. “What do you want then?” She stared up into his beautiful, familiar face, the hot look in his eyes making her break out into a sweat. “P-please West. I’ll beg if you want me to.” And she would, because she was getting to the stage where she didn’t care what she did. She just wanted him.

  He wasn’t smiling now, his expression fierce for some reason she didn’t understand. “You know this can’t go anywhere, right?”

  She blinked, the question coming out of left field. “What do you mean?”

  “You and me. This is a one-off, darlin’. It’s not happening again, got it?”

  Something lurched inside her, like she’d been walking down some stairs and had accidentally missed a step. But the heat of him and the pressure of his body on hers were driving her half out of her mind, so she ignored it. “Yes, yes, I get it,” she said. “It’s f-fine. I don’t want anything more.”

  Just you. Right now. Please, God, please.

  Maybe she’d said it out loud and maybe he’d heard it. Either that or he could read her mind. Because he positioned himself, the head of his cock nudging against the entrance of her body.