Demand by Lisa Renée Jones Read Free Book Online Page B

the rest of my life, I’ll die a happy man.”
    â€œ I f ,” I repeat. “I hate that word. I hate all of the uncertainty between us.”
    He stands and takes me with him, stroking the hair from my face and tilting my mouth to his. “ If is a reminder to never take anything for granted. That every day, and every moment—”
    â€œCould be our last,” I supply, the words reminding me of Enzo, of his loss, and our fight to save his life, which ended in his death.
    â€œWhich is exactly why we need to fuck like it is.” He kisses me then, a short, hot claiming that is all about demand, two parts fierce, one part a question I don’t understand, before he tears his mouth from mine and walks me backward. “You have too many clothes on,” he declares, going down on one knee again and wasting no time removing my Keds.
    My hands settle on his shoulders, his mouth finding my belly, his tongue flicking here and there, and my nipples ache to feel the same. And when he moves lower, exploring the bare expanse of skin just above my waistband, my fingers slide into his hair, tangling in the soft stands. But they do not stay.
    Almost instantly, Kayden catches my wrist and presses my arms and hands behind me. “Lace your fingers together.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI’m going to make sure you can think of nothing but us. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
    â€œYes,” I say, my certainty that I want whatever he offers absolute. “That’s what I want.”
    â€œThen do as I say. Lace your fingers together and don’t release them until I tell you to.”
    The idea of submitting to him, of willingly giving him control, is sexy in ways that defy what I know of my past. I am even wetter and hotter than moments before. But Kayden has declared my submission to be my choice, while the man of my past took it. I twine my fingers beneath his grip, and there’s no mistaking the satisfaction that lights his eyes, a satisfaction that I know isn’t about sex. It’s about trust—something that I don’t believe either of us have known much of in our lives.
    His finger trails my waistband, his mouth following, his tongue flickering above the denim, a touch and a lick I feel in places he hasn’t yet explored, but I have no question he will. My lashes lower, my breasts feel heavy, my sex is tight, slick, ready for the moment Kayden is inside me.
    â€œElla,” he says, softly, the rough timbre of his voice compelling me to look at him. “Tell me that the birth control you started has kicked in, and I can be inside you with nothing between us.”
    â€œIt has,” I say, and for several beats we stare at each other, a new level of intimacy between us that has nothing to do with our naked bodies, but everything to do with our newly formed, fragile commitment to each other.
    He suddenly averts his gaze, resting his cheek on my belly, his energy shifting, darkening, several heavy beats passing. I want to touch him, to drive away the torment coming from him. “Kayden,” I whisper softly, and when he looks at me, those shadows of minutes before are thicker, more intense.
    â€œI’m going to make you forget everything but us. I’m going to make me forget. I’m going to fuck you every possible way I can before this night is over.” He cups my sex. “I’m going to lick you here, over and over, until you cry out because you want to come so badly it hurts. I’m going to make you say please. Do you have a problem with that?”
    â€œMaybe I should just say please now.”
    â€œNo. When it hurts so good that it’s almost pain, you say please.”
    He unsnaps my jeans and then unzips them, his hands slipping under the denim, and my panties, to my hips, sliding them down. They pool at my feet and I have a second at most to be self-conscious before he’s standing. He wraps his arms around