Maya Banks - Colters’ Daughter

She licked her lips and forced herself to meet his eyes.

“Is this a test?”

He frowned and confusion—genuine confusion—clouded his eyes. No, it obviously wasn’t a test and now she’d stepped into it all over again. If it had been a test of her trust, she’d failed miserably.

Without a word he reached round her and set her wrists free. He pulled at the material until she heard the sound of Velcro separating. It slid from her waist and he tossed it aside.

Then he turned and walked out of the living room, leaving her alone and naked.

She trembled, suddenly cold. Silence crept around her until it was heavy against her ears. She became aware of each breath until she purposely lowered her respirations so the sound wasn’t so explosive in the quiet.

She’d hurt him. It hadn’t been intentional. It wasn’t some vindictive payback to make him suffer. But the truth was there for the both of them to see. She didn’t trust him anymore. Not completely.

Hadn’t she wanted him to feel at least one-quarter of the pain she’d felt when he’d left her? Hadn’t she wanted to get back at him even just a little?

She had, if she was honest, but now the victory—if it could be called that—was hollow and unsatisfying. She wanted to cry, not for all the pain she’d endured but for something beautiful that was lost.

Her shoulders sagging, she turned and walked slowly to the couch where she sank into the cushions. But the leather that had felt warm and comforting before was now cold and unwelcoming.

She pulled the thin blanket around her body and up to her chin. She wouldn’t cry. Not now. She’d managed to go a long time without tears.

Her eyelids drooped and she nestled her head against the arm of the sofa. Her heart ached, but it went even deeper. Soul deep.

Now that she’d actually hurt Max, she realized she didn’t have the stomach for revenge. Unintentional or not, she knew that she’d suffer just as much as he would.

She wanted him back. Wanted his hands on her. His mouth. She wanted him to smile at her. She wanted him to love her.

When Callie awoke, she lay still a moment and stared dully toward the fireplace. The hearth looked cold and empty. Pretty symbolic.

She stirred and twisted the kink from her neck. When she stared down the couch, she saw Max sitting at the end, his gaze fixed on her.

“Max.”

She hastily sat up and the blanket fell to her waist.

He cocked his head to the side as his stare slid down her body. “Why didn’t you dress?”

She glanced down, frowned and then looked back up at him. “You told me to stay naked.”

“Hmmm.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Okay, she sounded defensive. Hell, she was defensive. She was seriously teetering here and definitely working without a safety net.

“Just that on some level you trust me. I haven’t completely lost it.”

She sighed. “I’m so sorry, Max. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

He scooted forward on the couch and put a finger to her mouth. “Shhh. You won’t apologize for the way you feel. It’s my fault. I pushed too hard, too fast. It’s easy to forget that we’ve been apart for so many months. I’d love nothing more than to forget it and go back to the way things were before… Before I hurt you. That’s on me, though. I can’t expect to gain back everything we lost in a day. So it’s me who is sorry, Callie. Your hesitation hurt me more than I expected. I can’t bear the thought that you’d worry I’d in some way hurt you.”

She leaned forward until her forehead rested on his mouth. “I don’t think you’d hurt me, Max. I don’t. I want this to work.”

He laid his hand on the back of her head and then gently stroked over her hair as he kissed her forehead.

“I want this to work too, Callie. I shouldn’t have reacted as I did. You have the right to question me. You have the right to stop me at any time if you don’t feel comfortable. I don’t want you to feel like you ever have to suck it up and deal when you’re frightened or unsure just because you don’t want to hurt my feelings.”

She closed her eyes and smiled as she circled his neck with her arms. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you, Max. I guess you’re right. I’m just a little unsure. I’m still unbalanced by it all. A few days ago I was alone and unhappy. Now such a short time later, I’m with you in Denver and we’re flying into the wind again.”

He cupped her face and brushed his lips across her cheek and then pulled her against him to cradle her in his arms.

“I’m sorry, dolcezza,” he murmured against her hair. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I overreacted earlier.”

She snuggled against his chest. “Think we could take up where we left off?”

He chuckled softly. “I can arrange that.”

She slid off his lap and went to her knees in front of him. She eased her thighs apart and slowly turned her hands palms up on top of her thighs.

His nostrils flared with his quick intake of breath. “How beautiful you are, Callie. There on your knees, your eyes and mouth so sweet you take my breath away.”

She stared back at him, her heart squeezing so hard in her chest she became light-headed. She put all her conviction into her gaze, her expression, the position of her body. She wanted there to be no doubt. She was his. This time… This time would be right. This time would be different.

For the first time since Max had stormed back into her life she didn’t feel foolish for thinking that things could be worked out between them. She was able to look at him with love, and in time she knew that her trust would be complete and whole again.

Maybe not overnight, but it would come.

She had faith.

She had love.

She had…hope. Sweet, healing hope.

Max absorbed the love in Callie’s eyes like a man dying of thirst. She was a balm to every ache in his soul. He wanted to possess her. He wanted to own her. He wanted her to light up for him—only him.

But he also wanted her to be free. He never wanted to crush her spirit and the zest with which she embraced life.

She was special.

She was his.

He rose to stand before her and stared down as she looked up into his eyes. They burned with trust where before there had been a subtle wariness to her gaze. He knew he wasn’t completely there yet, but she wanted to trust him and that was a huge step forward.

Slowly he undid the fly of his pants and pushed them over his hips until his cock jutted free of confinement. He wrapped his hand around the base and gave a short pull but then squeezed the tip when he found just how precariously close he was to coming undone under the caress of her gaze.

Holding his cock, he guided it toward her mouth.

“Open.”

Her mouth slowly opened, and she licked over her lips before opening wider with a breathy little sigh that had him itching to bury himself as fast and as deep as he could.

His hand shook and the head of his dick bumped clumsily against her lips as he guided it into the hot velvet of her mouth.

Pleasure exploded over his body. His muscles jerked and his knees nearly buckled as she sucked wetly while he pushed further inside. She was a craving like he’d never experienced. Edgy. Nearly painful. His skin was uncomfortable, like he needed to shed it. Itchy. Alive. Hot.

Need. It burned through his veins like feathers tinged with acid. It was soft but sharp. Pleasure mixed with pain. Satisfaction mixed with mounting impatience.

“Hands behind your back.”

He wanted to see her up on her knees, her breasts pushed forward.

She readily complied, pushing herself upward as she looped her arms behind her.

“Now tilt your head back. Just a little. Perfect, dolcezza. Just like that.”

Now he could see her throat bulge and work up and down as the angle sent him deeper into her mouth. It was an erotic sight, such a sweet mouth and eyes.

He reached down and stroked the sides of her neck, marveling at the baby-soft skin. The muscles jumped and quivered as he stroked to the back of her throat. He held himself there for a long moment, liking how her neck and shoulders tensed.

Through it all she never protested. Never asked him to stop. Calm acceptance blanketed them both. It was like a beautiful classical piece played to perfection.

He eased back, allowing her to breathe and relax for a moment. He was tuned in to her body. Knew the exact moment she needed a reprieve. Knew when she wanted more and when he should back off.

It had always been like this. He’d been able to read her mind and body from the start. They’d been in perfect harmony. A perfect match.

Until he’d walked away.

Until he’d had doubts that he could go through with the reason he’d sought her out.

He pulled back quickly as he realized he’d pushed too far as darker thoughts intruded into the moment. She breathed hard through her nose, and he pulled all the way out of her mouth, pissed that he’d allowed himself to become distracted even for a moment.

“Will you allow me to put your present back on you?” he asked as he stroked his erection with one hand.

She nodded without hesitation and he smiled his approval.

He extended his hand down to her, and she slid her slender fingers over his palm as he pulled her to stand before him.

He retrieved the waist restraint from the end of the couch and wrapped it around her, securing it in the back. Then he pulled her arms back and cuffed her wrists.

“Come over to the chair,” he said as he directed her toward the large ottoman situated in front of the overstuffed leather chair catty-corner to the couch.

“On the ottoman. On your knees.”

When she positioned herself according to his wishes, he gently lowered her head until her cheek rested on the edge of the chair. He then spread her knees so that she was open to him and he got a prime view of the soft pink flesh of her pussy and the puckered rosette of her anal opening.

“Beautiful. So pretty and so feminine.”

He ran a finger through the silken, damp flesh and teased her opening before going lower to dance over the taut bud of her clitoris. Her entire body tensed and her knees shook.

He smiled. So responsive. So fucking beautiful she made his teeth ache.

“Be right back, dolcezza. Don’t move that pretty ass. I’m going to fuck it.”

He grinned again when a violent shudder rolled through her body. He slid his fingers through her pussy once more before he backed away, delighted that she’d grown even wetter at his husky promise.

He strode from the room but took his time locating the lubricant from his bathroom. He wanted her to kneel there and anticipate the moment when he’d come back. When he’d fight her resisting opening to push inside her gorgeous ass and the indescribable sensation when her body surrendered and allowed him entry.

Christ but he was hard as a rock at the image—from the memory—of how it felt.

There was nothing better than a slow, sensual fuck inside her ass. Drawing out both their pleasure. Opening her, then pulling out before pushing back in to reopen her all over again.

He closed his eyes and palmed his aching cock as he walked back into the living room. When he opened them and saw her where he’d left her, ass perched delectably in the air, it was all he could do to breathe.

When he went back to her, the sight of her soft pink folds was more than he could take. Holding the lubricant in one hand, he guided his cock into her pussy with the other.

She sighed and tightened around him, her pussy gripping his dick like a fist. For a moment he simply closed his eyes and slid back and forth through her velvet heat.

Buried to the hilt, he uncapped the lubricant and used his fingers to spread her cheeks so that her opening was bared. He squeezed a generous amount of the gel over the seam of her ass and then ran his thumb over the puckered rosette.

He was patient, sliding one finger through the tight opening. She clenched around him and he heard her breath hiss from her lips. Back and forth, slowly, he tucked his finger into her before finally adding a second.

He curled his other hand around the base of his cock and slowly withdrew from her pussy and positioned the head at her lubricated entrance.

She posed an erotic picture, ass stuck in the air, her hands secured helplessly around her back and her cheek pressed into the cushion of the chair. There wasn’t a part of her body that wasn’t open and accessible to him.