As if sensing the tug-o-war shifting in her favor, she let his cock slip from her mouth, then dipped lower, gliding her tongue along the base and laving at his sac. Like she loved it. Like she craved a taste of every part of him. And regardless of skill or experience, nothing was hotter than a woman who sincerely enjoyed giving pleasure—not marking time until it was her turn but truly relishing every moment her mouth was on him. Unable to stop himself, he grabbed his cock with his free hand to stroke as she took one of his balls in her mouth.

Fuck. Me. His eyes felt dangerously close to rolling into the back of his head.

Then, as if to prove she wasn’t going to let up until he completely lost it, her spit-slicked fingers teased lower, along his perineum and ringing the sensitive rim of his ass. His hips lifted off the couch, his body going taut with the onslaught of responses firing in his body. His balls drew up tight, his whole system on the verge of meltdown. He thought he’d been prepared for the feel of her, had a plan, but goddammit, she was throwing grenades at him left and right. This woman knew exactly how to bring a man to his knees.

With the last shred of control he possessed, he gripped her hair and tugged her away. Ragged words scraped across his vocal cords. “Enough, love.”

She blinked up at him in confusion with big doe eyes that nearly made him lose his resolve. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you’re doing everything too fucking right. Believe me.” He released her hair. “Turn around, face down, let me see my marks on your pretty skin.”

Though she seemed taken aback by the shift, she followed his instruction, turning and lowering herself into a graceful pose, arms stretched out in front of her, the long line of her back and the curve of her ass exposed to him, knees parted. The pink welts on her flesh only served to make his cock throb harder in his hand.

He leaned forward on the couch, reaching down, and dipped his fingers into her pussy. Christ, she was soaked, the evidence of her arousal now coating part of her inner thighs. He couldn’t remember ever seeing someone so fucking sexy. He drew her moisture onto his fingers, then pulled out and brought them back up to his cock, coating himself with her juices and mixing it with the slickness she’d left behind from her mouth. Her scent wafted up as it hit his hot skin, wrapping around him as he pumped his cock with his fist.

It was no substitute for her mouth or the feel of her body around him, but the sacrifice was vital to reiterate who was in control. He needed her to see that he wasn’t going to let her down in this training by being easily manipulated. Every response she’d given him showed how much her body and mind craved this kind of surrender. She might not be ready to accept it yet, but he was more than ready to show her how much he wanted to be the one to bring her there.

“Touch yourself for me, love. You have permission to come when I do.”

He stroked his fist along his cock with measured speed, drawing out the inevitable, savoring the sight of Kelsey bowed and spread before him. She braced herself on one arm and reached between her thighs, those slender fingers parting her folds and rubbing her clit. No hesitation. No shame.

He loved that unapologetic sexuality of hers. In front of the world, she came across as that sweet girl next door with the secret smile. But behind the scenes, she was vixen personified, a woman who didn’t worry about how “nice” girls were supposed to act. And after living his life in circles where “proper” behavior was like religion, the sight of Kelsey taking her own pleasure was enough to make his blood feel like it was going to burst out of his veins.

“That’s right. Show me how you like to be touched.”

She tilted her head back, her spine arching, and slid two fingers inside with a breathy moan. Her hips rocked against her hand as she alternated fucking herself and stimulating her clit. Wyatt found himself mesmerized and unconsciously matched her rhythm, as if it was his cock pumping inside her instead of her fingers. He gripped himself hard as he stroked, thrusting into his fist as Kelsey’s speed increased.

Acting on pure instinct now, he reached out and smacked her still-pink ass as he charged closer to release.

“Ah, God.” Her back bowed again and she let out the cry, her fingers moving even faster. “Please . . .”

Seeing her react so well to the pain only dialed up his need more. He hit her again, his balls tightening and the pressure building inside him. “Come with me, love.”

Kelsey’s hair touched her back as she arched with the first wave of her orgasm, and pleasure exploded through Wyatt, racing down his nerve endings and outward. He moaned as his release slammed into him, his cock pulsing and fluid jetting forward, splashing against Kelsey’s bare back.

Kelsey let out a few more gasps, her orgasm quick and intense, then she sank onto her elbows, head to the floor, panting. She looked spent and a mess, in the best possible way—her skin pink with his handprints and her back covered with his semen.

Marked. By him.

A dangerous warmth stirred in his chest at the sight. No, don’t go there.

Wyatt tugged off his T-shirt and wiped his hands, then gently cleaned the remnants of his release from her skin. “Kneel up, love.”

With languid movements, she pushed herself upward, and he wrapped the throw blanket he’d grabbed from a nearby chair around her. She didn’t fight him when he kissed her gently, picked her up, and brought her onto the couch with him. He arranged her across the cushions and then tucked himself beneath her, letting her rest her head in his lap. Not wanting to break the moment with a lot of talk, he turned on the television, keeping it on mute, to check on the storm.

“I’m sorry I talked back,” she said, nuzzling into position like a cat. “I know better than that.”

“Shh.” He combed his fingers through her hair, stroking any remaining tension from her and enjoying having her there at his fingertips. “Was the punishment so bad?”

She smiled a bit, but kept her eyes closed. “Nah, but I may have trouble sitting on the plane tomorrow.”

He chuckled. “Will it be wrong if I find you squirming in your seat particularly arousing?”

“Sadist,” she said with a real smile now.

“Only a little.”

She got quiet for a while, and he thought she’d dozed off, but then she shifted against his lap. “Thank you for that. I’ve never . . . men have hit me before . . . but I’ve never enjoyed it or felt safe while it was happening.”

He continued to stroke her hair even though her words made his other hand ball into a fist. She’d said it as if she’d just tried a little pain play before and it hadn’t worked. But he heard the hesitation in her voice, the part she wasn’t saying. Men had hit her without her consent. The thought of anyone hurting her had murderous notions forming in his head. And he couldn’t stop the under-the-breath question from slipping out. “What happened to you, love?”

Her breathing stopped for a moment, like an animal caught in the beam of a flashlight.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” he said softly. “But the more I know, the better this will work for both of us. I don’t want to do something that’s going to inadvertently hurt you.”

She lay there for a long time, her hand idly tracing over his knee, and he thought she’d decided not to share, but finally she seemed to deflate, releasing all her breath. “Did Jace tell you what happened last year when Reid was shot?”

His stroking paused. “Jace and I weren’t really talking a lot then, but I saw the news story. Reid and your sister tracked down your mom’s murderer.”

Kelsey wet her lips, her focus fixed on the TV screen but a far– off look in her eyes. “No other names were ever released because of the nature of the crimes. But Brynn didn’t track him down randomly. She was chasing after him because Davis had kidnapped me. I had incriminating evidence he wanted. He held me against my will for three days—beating me mostly, raping me twice.”

“Sweet Jesus.” His blood turned to ice and a sick, clammy feeling washed over him.

She closed her eyes, the muscle in her jaw twitching. “I’m not telling you to get sympathy. I don’t want that. But you probably should know . . . in case I freak out over something. I don’t get panic attacks or anything, and I’ve worked through a lot of it with a therapist, but occasionally there are nightmares. And relinquishing control will probably always be a little scary for me.”

Wyatt could barely breathe he was so horrified on her behalf. God, how had she gone through so much brutal trauma and still come out on the other side with such a bright light still burning in her? The strength of will that had to have required awed him. If he’d gone through something like that, he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to face life with anything but hate and why-me bitterness. “Baby, I can’t even—”

She turned her head to look at him, her blue eyes pleading.

“Please, don’t,” she said softly. “I was scared to tell you because I didn’t want that look. I was a victim of a crime. But I’m not a victim now, and I don’t want you to treat me like one. Or change what we’re doing because of it. I can’t bear it. I need you to treat me like the Kelsey you met at the Sugarcane. That’s who I want to be. It’s who I am underneath all the other crap.”

He brushed hair off her face, a knot of tears in his throat. “That’s the only girl I see, love.”

She gave a little nod, her eyes shiny. “Thank you.”

She rose up to brush a kiss across his lips, then snuggled back down on his lap. She didn’t say anything else after that, and after a while her breathing became deep and regular, her body limp against him. He moved a few strands of hair away from her face, watching her sleep. She looked even younger and more fragile in slumber, the wounds in her eyes hidden. His instinct to protect and shelter welled up in him in an overwhelming rush. This woman deserved a champion, a warrior to shield her from any future hurt. But he couldn’t stop his mind from drifting backward in time, to when someone else had put herself in his hands.

He’d thought back then that he could handle it, that he could slay dragons and save the girl he loved both from outside forces and from herself by taking the reins. But he’d been a prideful idiot to think he could handle that kind of responsibility. That kind of relationship couldn’t be maintained long-term, at least not with him. He didn’t have the time or the self-control to be somebody’s everything.

But right now, he wasn’t going to question the universe’s unexpected gift of Kelsey LeBreck. His life wasn’t set up for a forever arrangement, but right now he had seven precious days to savor this beautiful, amazing woman. And he wasn’t going to waste a second of it. He couldn’t erase her past and he couldn’t be her future, but he could give her exactly what she wanted and needed right now—a few days to be the fun, carefree girl she hoped to one day become.

Trying not to jostle her too much, Wyatt pulled Kelsey into his arms, arranged the blanket around her, then stood. The radar showed the storm had moved past them and there were no reports of tornado touchdowns, so they were in the clear. He carried her up the basement stairs and through the hallway, then found his way to the other set of stairs leading up to the bedrooms.

Originally, he’d planned for Kelsey to stay in the guest room tonight. He’d wanted to give them both some breathing room before the trip. Plus, he never had women stay overnight with him. But the thought of her sleeping down the hallway didn’t sit well now. What if she woke up in the night and needed to know where something was? He knew how disorienting a new place could be, especially in the dark.

If he gave her a choice, she’d probably take the guest room. Alone time would give her a chance to gather herself in the morning, to rebuild her defenses before she saw him again. If he were in her position, that’s what he’d try to do, too. But since they’d agreed to this arrangement, the decision should be based on what he wanted and thought was best, not on what she’d prefer.