DomNextDoor

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Authors: Reese Gabriel
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care of this cut. It’s deeper than it looks.”
    She pushed playfully at his chest. “Brute.”
    “I’ll tie you down if I need to,” he quipped.
    The remark caught them both a little off guard.
    “Is that a promise,” she whispered. “Or a threat?”
    “Don’t, Tristy.”
    He’d barely gotten out the words before her lips were there,
meeting his, no forethought at all, just reaching out for the one thing that
could possibly make sense in her world right now.
    “Too late,” she rasped.
    “You shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured.
    It was her turn to arch a brow. “Why? Are you going to
punish me?”
    There she’d said it. Why she’d said it, however, she
had no idea.
    His gaze narrowed. “We’ve been over this.”
    “I don’t care.” She stroked his cheek, the strong, masculine
line of his jaw, the tease of his day-old beard, the tingle and promise of so
much more. “Forget the BDSM, forget tomorrow, can’t you? Just make love to me.
I’ve had it up to my eyes in fucked-up liars and momma’s boys. Won’t you please
just give me a reason not to swear off men completely?”
    He laughed softly. “You always do have a way of putting
things.”
    She reached for the thick, hard outline of his cock, covered
by his jeans. “Actions speak louder than words, so do hard-ons.”
    Grant tensed though he did not remove her hand. “There are
things you shouldn’t play with Tristy. You think I don’t want this too? You
think I don’t fantasize about you, touching you, having you in my arms, driving
you wild?”
    Her mouth went instantly dry. Her knees were weak. She had
never wanted a man so badly. “Take me,” she whispered.
    His eyes lit up. “There won’t be any going back,” he warned.
    “I don’t want to go back…ever.”
    Grant released a barely audible, low growl.
    He took her by the upper arms, lifting her to his height.
    His lips sealed over hers, hot and hard.
    Yes . Let him capture her now. Let her be swept away
on an unstoppable tide.
    He stopped abruptly, cursing himself. “This is wrong.”
    She said a single word, a game changer.
    “ Please… ”Tristy meant it to sound submissive and it
must have been close enough.
    Grant kissed her again and this time he showed no signs of
releasing her.
    Oh god, he tastes good. She opened her mouth for him.
His tongue was instantly there, conquering, exploring. Her pussy ached,
clenched with the need to be similarly filled. Brazenly she rubbed her breasts
against his chest. She wanted to undo his jeans but he took her hands pinning
her wrists to her sides.
    “No. It doesn’t work that way for me. You have to give me
control or it’s a no-go. We don’t have to get too much into the BDSM but you
will need to let me lead.”
    As if he had to ask twice.
    “I’m yours, Grant, I trust you totally.”
    He looked at her as if considering. “Tris, I am going to
give you a special word. We’ll use pumpkin.”
    “Sure.” She giggled, partially out of nervousness. “What
for?”
    Grant stroked her cheek. “I want you to be able to relax and
get into the spirit of the moment if it goes that way. This is your release
cord. You say the word and it stops immediately.”
    Her heart slammed with forbidden desire. “What if I don’t
use the word?”
    “I keep going.”
    She bit her lower lip as she considered the possibilities of
a strong man pretending to take what he wanted regardless. “Even if I say no?”
    “That’s right. Consider it your chance to let your hair
down.” Grant did just that, undoing her top knot, allowing her blonde to fall
about her shoulders and face.
    “I’m game,” she said huskily. “If you are.”
    “Just so we promise each other. I don’t want any weirdness
in the morning. Friends are way harder to find than lovers.”
    “Scout’s honor.” She raised her right hand in a mock salute.
    “You’re not a scout,” he reminded as he busied himself with
her blouse, unbuttoning it as fast as he could

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