He increased his speed and put gentle pressure against her throat. Breath play was banned at The Ranch because he didn’t want to take on the liability of untrained people using it on his property, but a firm neck hold could bring someone like Charli to a new edge. And he wanted to go there with her.
She moaned with every thrust and the chains rattled behind him as she tried to wrap her legs around him. Pressure built low and urgent in him, and he tilted his hips to grind his pelvis against her clit. “Go over with me, baby.”
As if he’d flipped a switch, a cry ripped out of her, and her pussy spasmed around him. “Grant…”
“Fuck.” He released her hands and neck, bracing his forearms on the side of her and pumping hard as pleasure shot down his spine and his cock swelled. His release exploded from him in pulses of pure, exquisite ecstasy.
Filling her. Marking her as his.
Mine, his mind whispered.
Mine.
When both their groans eased to soft panting, he let his head drop and ended up forehead to forehead with her, enjoying the quiet between them. Quivers continued to drift through them, gentle vibrations rolling over them as their bodies absorbed the aftershocks of their shared orgasm. They remained that way for a while, their heartbeats and breath slowing together, synchronizing…and then she reached up and touched his cheek.
He lifted his head to find her looking at him with soft eyes. She drew the pad of her thumb over his stubble. “Grant.”
A simple word, but something cracked open inside him, her tenderness and his whispered name on her lips too much to bear. He no longer had the strength to stop himself—even when he knew it was the stupidest and cruelest move he could make.
He lowered his head, and he kissed her.
Kissed her like he meant it.
Because he did.
SEVENTEEN
Grant deepened the kiss as Charli’s fingers threaded through his hair. Her lips were as soft as he’d imagined, her mouth hot and yielding. He wanted to lose himself in the kiss, to mold her against him and spend the rest of the night tangled up with her, idly exploring each other. But as he stroked his tongue along hers, images of the last woman he’d kissed filled his mind, pushing out the blissful moment of a second before. Raw emotion scraped at his insides, ugly guilt slashing at him. No, no, no. He broke off the kiss, pulling away as the massive barn seemed to close in around him.
Charli looked up at him with questions in her eyes. He pushed himself up and off of her, his heart thumping way too hard.
“Let me get you out of these.” He turned abruptly to uncuff her legs, fumbling with the first one, his hands unsteady, his mind whirling.
Charli sat up on her elbows. “Is everything okay?”
He put his back to her and worked on the second cuff. Run. Run. Run. “It’s fine. I’ll get you out of these and then get the shower started so you can get cleaned up.”
The cuff opened and the bed shifted as she pulled her legs toward her. He turned to find her hugging her knees to her chest and looking down at her toes. A little shiver went over her.
Fuck. He was being the world’s worst dom. Her first big scene and instead of providing her with a cuddle and aftercare, he was in the middle of a goddamned panic attack. He took a deep breath, trying to get oxygen to his malfunctioning brain, and got up to grab robes from the drawer in the armoire and to shut off the music.
He donned one of the robes, then sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped the other one around her. He cupped her cheek, turning her face toward him, and forced his voice to sound calm. “You did beautifully, Charlotte. Perfect. Thank you for trusting me to take you that far.”
She nodded and her eyes went shiny. She swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. I have no idea why I’m crying. I feel ridiculous.”
“Don’t apologize.” He brushed a thumb over her cheek, then backed off when he saw his hands were still shaking. “Sometimes coming back down can do that. The whole thing can be overwhelming for a sub.”
And the dom, he thought, anxiety rising in him like high tide. He lowered his hand to his side.
She tucked her arms into the sleeves of the robe and pulled it more tightly around herself, her entire posture closing to him. “That makes sense.” She gave him a tight smile. “And a shower sounds great. That was a…thorough lesson.”
Right, a lesson, that’s what this was supposed to be. But if that were truly the case, he wouldn’t feel so damn gutted right now. This had been a mistake. He should’ve known better than to take a chance with Charli. From the start, something about her had tested his control, had made him lose sight of his rules.
He’d fucking kissed her. He hadn’t kissed anyone in over a decade. His throat felt like it had a fist closing around it. “I’ll be right back.”
He left her side, forcing himself to walk normally and not rush into the bathroom like he wanted to. When he reached it, he shut the door, pressed his back against it, and dragged his hands over his face. Sweat slicked his palms and his heart refused to slow down. Calm the fuck down. It was just a kiss.
He closed his eyes, expecting to see Rachel’s face waiting there. But for the first time in as long as he could remember, he couldn’t conjure up her image. Charli’s worried expression dominated his vision instead. And that made him feel shittier than anything else could’ve. He’d screwed up everything tonight—breaking the vow he’d made to Rachel’s memory and failing to provide Charli with the best experience she could have.
He needed to fix this. Now. He went to the sink, splashed some water on his face and got his breathing back to normal. Remembering what he was supposed to be doing in here, he turned on the shower to warm it up for Charli.
When he made his way back to the bed, Charli looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there. “You sure everything’s okay? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, of course not.” He sat on the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh. “It was me who did something wrong. I’m sorry I kissed you, Charli.”
He didn’t miss the wince she tried to hide. “Why are you sorry?” She attempted a smile. “Am I that horrible of a kisser?”
“No, of course not.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just, I got carried away. I shouldn’t have done something…confusing.”
She stared at him, her smile sinking, and the room seeming to chill around them.
“Confusing?” she asked, the word like a dagger. “Because what? I might get romantic notions?” She shook her head and scooted off the bed. “Don’t worry, Grant. I’m far from confused. And I’m not stupid.” She held her arms out to her sides. “I’m in a room you built specifically to fuck women. I’m not deluding myself into thinking that I’m special or that you have feelings for me or something. We had sex. We kissed. Big deal. Now, is the shower ready?”
Her speech had part of him wanting to grab her and tie her back down to the bed, show her that she wasn’t some notch on his bedpost. But having her think that was better than her knowing about all the riotous emotions she kicked up in him, all the ugly stuff that kiss had brought to the surface. He needed to get through this night and find his bearings again. “Towels are in the bottom cabinet.”
“Great.” She turned on her heel and headed to the bathroom, closing the door none-too-gently behind her. The sound of the lock turning echoed through the barn.
She’d shut him out.
God, he was an asshole.
Charli walked outside through the main door of the barn, freshly showered and wearing the jeans and T-shirt she’d packed in her bag. She’d never been more ready in her life to be alone. The overwhelming sex had been enough to process, but Grant’s kiss and subsequent retreat had her gray matter scrambled. She had so many clashing emotions going through her that her chest hurt more than the welts on her back.
She spied Grant sitting on a tree stump, staring out over the grounds, his forearms braced on his thighs. He somehow looked lost and right at home all at the same time—like being lost was his status quo. She took a deep breath, determined not to have another ridiculous emotional outburst in front of him, and headed his way.
He looked over at her when her shoe snapped a twig, his expression somber. “Hey.”
She stuck her hands in her pockets, awkwardness filling the air around them. “Hey.”
He turned his head, staring back out into the night. “I’m sorry I screwed things up tonight. I don’t want you thinking that you’re just another body to warm my bed. It’s not like that.”
She forced a casual shrug. “You told me upfront what this was. I wasn’t expecting a fairy tale.”
“Still doesn’t excuse how I acted. It had nothing to do with you. Tonight was the best night I’ve had in a really long time.”
She rolled a pebble under her shoe, contemplating his words. There was so much he wasn’t telling her. She could feel whatever it was like a thick fog between them. When he’d pulled away from their kiss, he’d looked horrified. She should probably let it lie, but too many questions hung in the air. How was she supposed to go on with this ignoring that? “Grant, I need to know what happened in there.”
He didn’t look at her. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
She pressed her lips together, counting to three before she spoke. “So all that shit about trust only applies to me? I’m supposed to trust you to tie me up, hit me, and put myself in your hands, but you can’t even tell me why you freaked out over a simple kiss?”
He rubbed his palms on his jeans, staying quiet for a few long moments, then his shoulders dipped in resignation. “Have you ever made a promise to someone, Charli? Not something offhanded, but a real promise?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She’d promised her dad before he died that she’d go after her dream and not let anything stop her. That was going swimmingly. “Why?”
She thought he may have not heard her, but after a few moments, Grant finally looked at her, pain etching his features. “Well, that kiss broke a promise I’ve kept for a really long time.”
The simple statement sucked all the wind out of her anger.
She knew then, recognized the grief, had seen it on her brothers’ faces and in her own reflection when their dad has passed away. “You lost someone.”
He stood, giving her a sad smile. “No, freckles, I lost everything. The wife I loved, an unborn son, and the life I thought I’d live.”
Her heart fissured in her chest, the rawness in his admission making tears burn in her throat. A hundred questions popped into her head. What had happened? When had it happened? How? But those answers were inconsequential. All that mattered was the anguish she could see weighing down Grant’s every limb. She stepped forward, wanting to touch him, wanting to do something to make it better, but unsure if he’d welcome her sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”
He sighed as he reached out to grab her waist, tucking her against his chest and sitting his chin on top of her head. “It’s okay. You deserved an explanation after I acted like a jackass tonight. Now you know.”
I’m broken. He didn’t say the words, but she heard them just the same.
“We don’t have to continue this if it’s bringing up bad stuff for you,” she said, even though the thought of walking away from him already had regret strumming through her.
He angled back, looking down at her, a little smile trying to form on his lips even though the sadness still lingered in his eyes. “Oh, you’re not getting off the hook that easily. You’ve got too much to learn. I’ll be fine. I’ve lived with this a long time. Training will recommence tomorrow. I promise my past won’t interfere again.”