Surrender to Temptation Part III: Tempted to Obey by Lauren Jameson

going to push himself inside of my ass, inside the tight heat that had never before been breached?
    I was turned-on and terrified in a thrilling way. Could I do it?
    “I think you like that idea.” One finger traced over the stripe of my spine. Then he closed his grip over my bound wrists, tugging until I turned awkwardly. Before he could forbid me not to, I eagerly looked him over, my eyes drinking their fill of the man who was slowly, steadily driving me wild.
    His hair was messy, standing in sexy black spikes as if he had run his fingers through it. His tie had been loosened and was askew. His skin was flushed, the sexy hue of arousal painted over his features.
    Best of all, his suit pants were hanging loosely on his lean hips. I could now see that he wore nothing beneath them—there was nothing keeping me from the thick, incredibly hard length that jutted forward from its nest of dark curls.
    “On your knees.” My eyes widened, and I bent, trying to do as I was commanded. With my legs bent, it was a nearly impossible task. Zach clasped me on either side of my rib cage, biceps beneath his dress shirt rippling as he lifted me off my feet and dropped me on my knees in front of him.
    “I didn’t like seeing his hand on you.” The wild look in Zach’s eyes pulled my own dormant grief from the depths of my soul. I wanted so badly to heal this beautiful, damaged man.
    If only he would let me.
    “Zach . . .” I squeezed my thighs together, trying to assuage the deep ache that had bloomed from his caresses. I was scared that he would never give me release, that he would keep me here, bound and at his mercy, forever.
    “I don’t like how he makes you feel.” Lacing his fingers behind my head, Zach brought me toward him.
    I thought I sensed a new warmth in his demeanor toward me, and then I remembered my earlier disappointment in thinking he cared for me.
    I was suddenly so, so tired. I was a train wreck of emotions. I wanted to be done with games.
    “Trust me, Devon.” His touch gentling the tiniest bit, Zach pulled my head forward until the head of his cock brushed my lips.
    Clamping my lips between my teeth, I shuddered in a breath and looked up at him. What I saw on his face halted my anger in midstride.
    Gone was any anger, any arrogance from his gorgeous features. In their place were wonderment, encouragement, and even pride.
    I felt my mind empty of everything except sensation as he pushed forward between my lips.
    I did nothing more than to purse my lips around his thick length as he thrust into my mouth again and again. The head of his cock rammed against the back of my throat, and I gagged, but still kept my mouth clamped around him.
    If this was what he wanted, then this was what he would get. I would try to learn about pleasure without emotional attachment.
    I felt a trickle of salt stinging the back of my throat, heard him hiss in a breath as his thrusts came faster and faster. I opened my mouth wider, strained to take him deeper, pressed my body against his legs.
    I gave him everything.
    With a hoarse shout he pulled free of my mouth with a wet popping noise. Grasping his cock in one hand, he fisted the shaft up and down once, twice; and then he was coming, hot, salty streams of ejaculate that he caught in the handkerchief he always carried.
    “Mine.” His voice was harsh, coarse with need. “You are mine.”
    I nodded and licked the salt off my lips with my tongue. Eyes closed again, I lifted my head and let him shake the final few drops of his orgasm onto my tongue, which I tucked back into my mouth before demurely swallowing.
    I stayed kneeling, my knees numb, feeling as though a great well inside of me had been filled. I kept my eyes on the floor as self-awareness gradually came back to me.
    Above me, Zach was breathing heavily, his hands still tangled in my hair.
    “Jesus.” The word was a whisper. I heard him search in his pocket, then felt him clasp my chin in his hand. “Devon, look at