Tie Me

Dawn framed his face with both hands and stared deep into his eyes as his pleasure escalated, one thrust, one crest at a time, higher and higher until he felt as if he’d lost contact with the earth and spiraled into the heavens. His muscles tautened as spasms of intense release pulsated deep inside him. He gripped her shoulders to hold her still as he drove himself deep and let go. This was more than a physical release. Years of pain and turmoil seemed to pump out of him with an even greater intensity that his erupting fluids.

His lower lip began to tremble and he knew he was about to completely lose it, so he lowered his body on Dawn’s and buried his face in her neck. He hoped she thought all those ragged breaths bursting from his lungs were due to physical exertion. How terrible would she feel if he did something as mortifying as cry while he spent himself inside her?

He refused to find out. He reburied some of his anguish, shoving it back into a familiar place where he could save it to dwell upon another day. He just couldn’t let go of it all at once. He probably should have taken it a little slower with Dawn—not jumped in the fire with both feet. But it was too late for misgivings now. He was completely engulfed in her flames and had no desire to escape, even if the ties of his past were wrenching him in the opposite direction.

Chapter Eight

Dawn stroked Kellen’s back as he lay trembling on top of her. She knew he was having a difficult time with the emotional aspect of this. He seemed to be okay with the physical part. Her body thanked him for that. She’d never been with a man who could stare directly into her eyes while he made love to her. It was as if Kellen wasn’t only making love to her body, but also to her soul. He’d touched her everywhere—inside and out.

“I just need a minute,” he said, his voice shaking almost as much as his body was. It made her heart ache for him.

If he cried, she was going to bawl right along with him. A tight knot was already lodged firmly in her throat.

“Take as long as you need,” she whispered. “I like the weight of you against me.”

She was actually finding it difficult to draw air, and the top of this piano was almost as comfortable as a cement floor, but her minor discomfort couldn’t possibly match what he was going through emotionally. She almost wished they’d waited before taking this step. What if he hadn’t been ready? What if by diving headlong into the physical side of their attraction, she’d completely ruined those deeper connections that she wanted to explore with him? The sex had been phenomenal and she had no doubt that it would get better between them as he shed the restraints of his past, but she would be devastated if her successful seduction hurt him. He was hurting enough already. And she didn’t have a clue what she should say to him. So she just lay there, holding him, until his trembling abated and he slowly withdrew from her body. She immediately missed the fullness of him inside her. She hadn’t realized the physical connection was so important to her until it went missing.

Kellen rose up on his elbows and stared directly at her forehead. “I… uh… thanks?”

Thanks? And not a statement, but a question. Wow, when had Mr. Deep and Sensitive vanished? Shit, was he one of those guys who pretended to be wounded to get in a woman’s pants? It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been duped into having sex.

And, okay, she supposed that thanks were appropriate, but for some reason she got tickled by the earnest look on his face and started to laugh.

“Uh… you’re welcome?” she said in the same uncertain tone he’d used.

He grinned and then snorted as he tried to hold in a laugh. “That was pretty uninspired,” he said. “Let me try again. Your body is like a river of warm pleasure washing over me like… uh…” His eyes darted to the side as inspirational words apparently escaped him.

“A river of warm pleasure?” She was really laughing now. “You should have stuck with thanks.”

“Sorry for being lame. I have a hard time stringing coherent thoughts together after a really intense orgasm.” He grinned. “So yeah. Thanks!”

She wrapped him in an affectionate embrace, a little surprised that he wasn’t making excuses to leave.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” she asked, crossing her fingers behind his back.

Yes, sex had definitely happened too soon with this deep and tortured man. She wanted him to stick around, but maybe it would be better to convince him to stay with something other than another really intense orgasm. Not that she’d mind another one herself.

“What’s upstairs?”

She couldn’t tell if he was joking. “Uh, something more comfortable to cuddle on than this hard piano.”

He winced as he shifted slightly. “Such as a porcupine?”

“Even more comfortable than that.”

“I don’t think I can spend the night in your bed, Dawn,” he said. “Not because you aren’t the most wonderful thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time, but because…”

He didn’t have to say the words; she could read them on his face. He felt guilty for having sex with her. He probably even felt guilty for being attracted to her and talking to her and eating her f**king French toast, not to mention her pu**y. Even in the low light given off by the single candle, the guilt in his eyes brought his reality crashing down around her. She knew letting go of Sara was difficult for him, and she wasn’t making it easy on him by jumping into this relationship at rocket speed, but someone had to shake him up. It might as well be her.

He glanced around the mostly dark room. “Would you settle for a sofa?”

“Anything’s better than this piano,” she said. “For resting on. Making love on it fulfilled a long-standing fantasy of mine, and the experience greatly exceeded my expectations. So… uh… thanks?”

He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose before scooting off the edge of the piano. Once standing, he stared down at her. “I never made love on a piano or even fantasized about it, but I will be from now on. You look absolutely stunning lying there.”

She basked in his attention as his gaze touched upon every inch of her naked body. She liked looking at him too. Especially when he was dripping wet as he had been the first time she’d seen him. “Have you ever made love on the beach?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking suddenly detached and forlorn.

Must have screwed Sara there, Dawn figured. She was starting to recognize that lost look as an indicator of that woman commandeering his thoughts. “And?”