Unexpected Angel Read online

  “Dylan, I need more.” I don’t care how desperate I sound; he’s awakening something inside of me, and I want to go on.

  “I know, angel.” He brings me in for a long, sensual kiss. His tongue tangles slowly with mine, desire building between us. When he grinds against me, I feel the friction of his dark jeans pressing into my bare mound and I nearly come undone.

  “I want you to bend over so your head is resting on the bed,” he instructs me. “Remember, if you want to stop, all you have to do is tell me.”

  (Dylan)

  My angel is compliant tonight. She leans forward, turning her head to the side as her beautiful ass is on display for me. I continue rubbing the globes with my hands, preparing them for the next assault. I lift my hand, delivering another slap, this time to the other side. Her back arches as she moans. I knew she would enjoy this once she got used to it, but I never imagined how quickly she’d find pleasure.

  “You like to be naughty, don’t you?” I ask, leaning over, pressing my chest against her back. My hands travel up her sides, moving between her body and the mattress to squeeze her tits. She doesn’t respond and I squeeze harder, pinching her nipples firmly.

  She cries out. “Yes!”

  “Good girl,” I commend her, nipping at her shoulder before kissing my way down her body. “Are you going to go out of your way to disobey me so you can be punished?”

  I stop for a moment, deciding on my next move. I want to see her ass turn red, but I don’t want to push her to her limit yet. I kneel behind her, needing to taste the sweet musk that has been torturing me since dinner.

  Spreading her legs, I position her in front of my face. She writhes against my face as I start licking my way through her dripping folds. It doesn’t take long before I have to turn so I’m sitting on the floor and she bends her knees so she’s grinding hard against my face, my stubble giving her the friction she needs to bring her to another orgasm. But I’m not giving that to her yet.

  I pull away, reaching into the nightstand. I didn’t think I would need this quite so soon, but I’m glad I thought ahead for once in my life.

  “Dylan, you’re an asshole,” she groans, reaching between her legs to give herself the climax I’ve denied her.

  I flick her hand, knowing I can’t grab it and pin her to the bed like I want to. “Precious, you said you trust me,” I criticize, smacking her once on each ass cheek to punish her. “That means you trust me to give you what you need.”

  “What I need is you,” she moans, rubbing her tits against the bed. “I need more than your fingers inside of me. Please, Dylan.”

  I look at the large dildo in my hand and smile. No, it’s not what she wants, but it will have to be enough because once I claim her as mine, there’s no going back and I can’t be sure she’s there yet. I reposition her on the bed with her ass in the air. “You want more?” I ask playfully.

  “Yes, please,” she pleads with me. I spread her legs, running my hands across her pussy. “So pretty,” I sigh.

  I pull my hand back, replacing it with the thick, nine-inch dildo through her folds to lubricate it. Her body starts grinding against it as she moans. It’s not going to take much to shatter her again. “You like that?”

  “I’d rather have you, but god yes. I need more, Dylan,” she cries out, wiggling her ass toward me. She knows she’s not supposed to beg and she’s waiting for her punishment. I swat her again, not wanting to disappoint. As my hand lands on her backside, I shove the toy inside her, hard and deep. I continue fucking her, giving her what she needs, and her body collapses as she screams my name.

  I lay down on the bed next to her, pulling her into my arms. She needs to know it will never be only about the pain. “You amaze me,” I whisper in her ear.

  “What about you?” She asks sleepily.

  “I’ll be fine,” I assure her. “You’re about to fall asleep.”

  (Tasha)

  I’m not sure why I fight Dylan when he says I’m his. Every time that I give him a reason why I’m not and never will be, he seems to go out of his way to show how powerless I am to his allure. Wednesday night, he showed me so many times I lost count. First, in the dark alley next to the restaurant and again as soon as the elevator doors closed. God, that man can do things with his fingers that I’m pretty sure are illegal in a few states. And that was just before we were in the privacy of his home…

  “Tasha, are you going to answer that?” I feel a crumpled ball of paper make contact with the back of my head as Mason pulls me out of my daydream. I really need to learn to leave the memories of Dylan and the mind-blowing orgasms he gives me at the door when I come to work. There’s too much riding on this government contract. Namely, the jobs of about two hundred employees.

  I reach for my desk phone, praying I haven’t missed the call I’ve been waiting on all day. “EDI, this is Tasha,”

  “Hello, beautiful.” My stomach flips at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line.

  “Why are you calling me at work?” I turn my body so I’m facing the corner of my desk. If no one can see me and I keep my voice low, maybe no one will realize I’m taking a personal call.

  “I missed the sound of your voice. Is that a crime?”

  “Just stop. You know damn well I can get written up if Marcia finds out I’m talking to you while I’m supposed to be working.”

  “Do I?” His voice is almost playful. Taunting me. Trying to get me to react.

  “Yes, you do,” I hiss. What did I do to deserve this? The day had been going so well. “What do you want?”

  “Baby, I miss you,” he says sweetly. “I was hoping we could go out to dinner tonight. Maybe I could pick you up and we could head down to that new steakhouse downtown.”

  “I can’t,” I growl, my patience wearing thin. I should just hang up the phone, but I don’t.

  “I thought you liked going out. And you always say I don’t take you anywhere nice.”

  “I’m hanging up now. Don’t call me at work again.” I place the phone in its cradle and take a moment to compose myself. Why is he calling me now? What caused the sudden change of heart?

  “New boyfriend?” I’m so lost in thought I don’t hear Mason come up behind me. “Don’t worry, the witch is in a meeting right now, and you know we’ll never say anything. Of course, there is a price to be paid for my silence. So tell me, what’s got you all flustered?”

  I consider telling Mason what’s going on so at least someone knows. Holly is still MIA, so I haven’t been able to fill her in on everything that’s happened in the past week. It doesn’t seem possible that it’s only been seven days since my life started morphing into something unrecognizable, but it has. Last week at this time, I was giving myself a mental pep talk, telling myself to keep an open mind and have a good night.

  In the end, I blow off Mason’s question, not wanting to get into it with him. I know what he’ll say and I don’t want to hear it. “No, no new boyfriend. As much as I’d love to chat, I have to see where the final report on my analysis is at. I have to turn it in to you-know-who by the end of the day and I’m sure she’ll just love it if I can’t deliver.”

  As much as I love just about everyone in my department, my new supervisor seems hell-bent on making my life miserable. She knows as well as I do that the only reason she got the position and I didn’t is the fact that we’re a union company and she has seniority. I can, and often do, run circles around the woman when it comes to the actual workload. I know the day is coming when I will have to find a different position within the company in order to escape her dictatorship, but until then, I will keep reminding myself that I’m in the department everyone wants to get into because we’re just that awesome.

  “What did you do to piss her off so bad?” Mason asks, not in any hurry to go back to his cubicle.

  “No clue. I think it has something to do with the fact that I still walk in here with a smile on my face every morning.”

  “Yeah, that’d do
it. Well, watch your back, kid. And let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you out.”

  I spend the rest of the afternoon staring at strings of coded transmissions, not really processing any of the information. I’ll have to go over this batch again on Monday morning, hopefully after a stress-free weekend. If I can convince Dylan that I’m not a porcelain doll he needs to keep on a shelf, maybe he’ll screw my brains out and I’ll be able to stop thinking about what I only wish he would give me. We’ve had plenty of fun with the small collection of toys he bought for me, but it’s not enough. This morning, he told me he has something special planned for the evening, maybe I’ll finally get what I’ve been trying to avoid begging for.

  (Dylan)

  All day, images of the way Tasha’s eyes lit up when I told her tonight will be special have been flashing through my mind. It’s been interesting, to say the least, since I got home. I expected her to put up a fight when I told her she wasn’t sleeping on my couch, that her place was in my bed. Making that declaration while she was still riding the high of her fourth orgasm was a wise choice; she didn’t protest at all. Lying next to her without stripping off her t-shirt has proven to be the biggest challenge. I want her more than I’ve wanted anyone and yet I’m denying myself because I know she’s not ready yet.

  I carefully coil two lengths of cotton rope on the floor of my living room. As much as I would love to do this in the bedroom, I need Tasha to understand this isn’t sexual. At least not yet. I fantasize about the day when she will allow me to put her in a dragonfly harness so she’s unable to reach out for me as I torture her body into sweet oblivion. I would love nothing more than to install rigging from the sturdy beams spanning the ceiling of my cabin up north so I can suspend her in the air and make her feel like she’s floating her way through climax. But before any of that can happen, I have to earn her trust.

  Tonight, I’m hoping like hell to break down one of her walls and guide her one step closer to understanding who I am. I want her to experience shibari as the decorative art form it is rather than a sensual release.

  By the time Tasha opens the front door, I have picked up the rope no less than five times and hidden it away in the closet. I believe in my head that this will help her get past the abuse she suffered at the hands of her ex, but my heart aches with every memory of her turning into herself last weekend when I playfully grabbed her. I meant it when I said I hope to never see that look in her eyes again. It wrecked me enough that I’m still feeling the effects and that never happens.

  “Honey, I’m home,” she calls out in her best Ricky Ricardo voice. With every day that passes, my precious angel seems more at ease in my space and that’s a damn good feeling. I still get annoyed with her tendency to leave a trail of debris in her path, but it’s worth it the moment I see her smile wide enough that her dimples show.

  “Hey, angel.” As I lean in to kiss her, the tension coursing through her body is almost palpable. “Everything okay?”

  “Rough day at work,” she mumbles into my chest. I could get used to the way she burrows her face into my pecs, breathing in my scent. I don’t think she knows I know she does it, but it’s hard to miss.

  I crook my finger under her chin, drawing her lips to mine. She leans into me as our lips meet. I feel her smile and take that as my cue to deepen the kiss. She moans softly as my tongue parts her lips, tasting the fruity gum she’s addicted to. I love knowing that this little bit is all it takes to feel her relax.

  “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing tonight?” She asks as she drops her laptop bag on the end of the couch.

  Before I can respond, I see her eyes narrow on the ropes. I ease my way over to her, gauging her reaction. I highly doubt she even knows what I use them for, but I’m quickly learning never to underestimate her knowledge.

  Without saying a word, Tasha sits on the floor, leaning her back against the couch. She picks up one of the ropes, allowing it to slide between her fingers. Satisfied that she’s not going to go ballistic on me or have a nervous breakdown, I lower myself so I’m sitting next to her.

  “Do you know what those are?” I ask in a low voice. She nods slowly. “And do you know what they’re used for?”

  She stares at the rope, gently pulling it across her hand as if she’s testing to see what it feels like on her skin. The vision has my cock stirring, my mind begging me to push her, to tie her, to please her all night long. But I can’t.

  “Dylan,” she sighs breathlessly. She’s nervous, but not panicking. This is a good sign. “I can’t do this.”

  When she looks up at me with her expressive eyes filled with something, I’m unable to place the emotion. I’ve seen her fear, and it’s not that, nor is it anger.

  “Look at me,” I command softly when her gaze drifts back to the floor. I’m hoping that if I keep my voice quiet, she will be more receptive to the firm tone. I need her to respond to the tone.

  She shakes her head nervously. “I…”

  “Tasha, give me your eyes. I need to see what your words won’t tell me.” Never before have I been with a woman who makes me want to explain every demand I make. I know she needs this and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get her to fully trust me.

  Reluctantly, she turns her head so I can see her beautiful face. She’s nervous. “That’s my girl,” I encourage her. “Now, tell me what you’re thinking.”

  She doesn’t need to say a word; I already know why she’s resistant. It’s the exact reason I planned tonight the way I have. I want to ease her into this, allow her to see that even if she submits to me, she will be the one in control of every situation.

  “You saw how I freaked out before. I… I don’t think I could deal with you tying me up. I know you said you wanted tonight to be special, but this is too much. This,” she said, holding up the rope in her hand, “I don’t think I can do this for you.”

  I cautiously grab the rope from her, placing it back on the floor in front of us. She watches as I neatly wind it as it had been before she came home. When I pull her onto my lap, she leans her head against my shoulder. It’s a tender move that only solidifies my resolve to make her whole, possibly for the first time in her life.

  “Precious, I need you to look at me,” I murmur, lightly trailing my fingers along her spine. I smile when she doesn’t resist this time. “I know what you’re thinking, and yes, I hope to someday bind you, but not tonight. I actually have a very different idea. One that I hope will help you move past your fear of having my hands wrapped around your arms. “

  I can see the wheels turning in her mind and I know she’s hearing every word I say. “What else is there? I mean, isn’t the whole point to immobilize me?”

  “At times, yes. But as I said, that will only happen when I know you trust me enough to allow me that pleasure.” I place a kiss on her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally, a chaste kiss on her lips. “But first, you’re going to tie yourself. I want you to see the rope as an accessory, not a source of pain.”

  I grab the length of rope, slowly pulling it through my fingers while folding it in half. Rather than explain what I want her to do, I show her. I begin tying a rigger’s gauntlet on my left wrist, looking up to see her paying attention to the simple knots winding their way around my arm. When I tie off my gauntlet, I hold it up for Tasha’s inspection. She reaches out a tentative hand, feeling the braided cotton rope covering the lower third of my arm.

  “I don’t know if I can, Dylan.” She fingers follow the lines of the rope, slowing at each knot before proceeding.

  I reach for her face, purposely brushing the gauntlet across the side of her neck. “I’m right here,” I promise her. “If you don’t try, you’ll never get past what he did to you.”

  “You make it sound like I’m defective,” she groans. “Then again, I guess I am.”

  “Don’t ever say that about yourself,” I warn her. “There’s a new rule; you’re not allowed to speak ill of yourself in my presence.
Ever. You’re an amazing woman and I can’t wait until the day you see that.”

  “You can’t know that. We still barely know one another.”

  “True,” I agree. There’s no point arguing with her, especially since that will only create tension we don’t need between us tonight. “But I do know you held your head high the night I met you. You were terrified of what you saw taking place but you refused to admit that fear. You took a chance and accompanied me to the diner even though you barely knew me. You spent the entire weekend with me and, unless I’m mistaken, you had almost as much fun as I did.”

  Her eyes light up with every memory I put in front of her. She needs to remember those moments and forget the past. Forget every bitter word her ex spat at her, telling her she was worthless.

  “I told you that night that I thought you were something to be cherished. It hasn’t been long, but I know now, without a doubt, that my first impression of you was the right one.” I held out the rope to her, waiting to see what she would do.

  Tasha doesn’t move from my lap as she reaches for the rope. I reward her with a slow, tender kiss, my arms wrapped tightly around her waist. “That’s my girl. Now, this is what you need to do…”

  It takes nearly fifteen minutes for Tasha to wrap the gauntlet around her wrist. I notice the way her brow furrows as she concentrates on what she’s doing. When the rope twists on itself, she lets out a frustrated huff but continues. Once she finished though, she wraps her arms around my neck and I feel the dampness of tears falling from her eyes against my skin.

  “Hey,” I attempt to comfort her. “You’re okay. See, you’re perfectly safe.”

  She lifts her head and slowly smiles. “I know,” she laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, one that’s in complete contrast to her tears. “Thank you.”

  I reach for the remote control on the couch and we sit together watching TV for a while. I don’t want to break the bond we seem to be forging and there’s nowhere I need to be for another hour.