“What?” Beck was on his feet, his hand rubbing his head as he paced. “He forced you to support him? What kind of a man was he?”
The truth was she was tired of being pissed off about the divorce. Somehow the events of the last twenty-four hours made her rage at a marriage gone bad seem a small thing. Beck’s whole life had been destroyed. At least Michael had the good sense to divorce her before they had kids. It had been a mistake, and it was past time to move on. “He was a young man. We were really young when we got married. I was only twenty-two. I was twenty-five when we divorced two years ago. We were just stupid kids trying to be grownups. I wanted a family. He wanted to play Xbox and drink beer. It’s a typical American story.”
Beck’s hair was long and flowed around his shoulders and down his back. He’d taken it down after he’d gotten the fire going. It had been an oddly erotic moment. His eyes had been on her, and she’d watched as he brushed it out. Now, it was a silken blanket around his body.
It was also a fire hazard. Meg held out her hand. “It was a long time ago, Beck, and in a galaxy far, far away. Please come back over here. I don’t want to have to put out your hair when it catches on fire.”
He looked back and seemed surprised that he hadn’t caught that himself. He sat back down. When she held open the blanket for him, he moved close and wrapped it around the both of them.
“Sorry, love,” he whispered. “I just can’t imagine anyone letting you get away.”
“You must have a very small imagination,” she said solemnly.
“I am not known for my creativity.” Beck frowned and stared at the fire.
Meg laughed. “I was teasing you. You take things too literally. Don’t give my ex another thought. I don’t intend to. He was an asshole.”
Dark eyebrows drew together. “You sound so much like Dante. Are you sure you’re not from the Vampire plane? They are entirely obsessed with anuses, too. I don’t get it.”
Meg giggled and let her head drop to his shoulder. She would have immediately brought it back up, but his hand was there, smoothing her hair back, holding her close. His arms went around her. He was so warm. She gave in and snuggled closer. He was a furnace.
“I would like very much to make love to you, Meggie,” Beck said, his voice low and painstakingly gentle. The hand in her hair was gentle, too, unlike the way he’d fisted her hair in the arena. He touched her like she was made of glass.
“How very polite.” Meg thought about what Dante had said. She didn’t want a polite bargain. She wanted his passion.
It didn’t matter. She would be gone in a day or two. She hadn’t changed her mind about that. Even though he promised not to treat her the way he had before, she knew it was inevitable that he would.
Before all of this happened, Meg had been giving an enormous amount of thought to her sex life. It had been pointless and futile up until now. The two men she had gone to bed with before marrying Michael had been utterly boring, and she’d just wanted to get it over with. Michael had been the same way. It was why she’d started exploring Dominance and submission in the first place. She hadn’t gotten past the internet, but she’d ordered some books on the subject.
Being out in the arena with Beck had been a revelation. It was the single most erotic experience of her life, and he rejected her afterward. He thought she was just as much a pervert as Michael did, and she refused to be trapped in another marriage where her husband didn’t really want her. But she was stuck for now. Why not enjoy what he could give her? She had just taken her birth control shot before she’d gotten kidnapped. Why not enjoy a little sex? Even if it wasn’t as mind-blowing as before, it would be better than anything she’d had on the Earth plane. She would just have to make sure she came off as vanilla as possible so he didn’t get angry with her again.
She let her hand find his sculpted chest. “All right.”
He sighed, and she felt that strange connection between them open slightly. It tingled there on the edges of her consciousness, and she opened eagerly to it. She could feel his arousal. She could feel how much he wanted her. It made her feel special and desirable. He closed it down immediately. Meg was alone again.
“Sorry.” He eased her onto her back. “I have to get used to the bond. It’s particularly strong when we make love. I promise I won’t flood you with it again.”
“I didn’t mind,” she said as he touched her lips with his. It was a gentle touch, a light melding of lips. She found it slightly frustrating.
“Of course you did,” he murmured as he kissed her, a little harder this time.
He pressed his mouth over hers. His tongue requested access. Meg allowed herself to soften beneath him, and his tongue lazily plunged in. He explored her mouth, mating his tongue to hers, devouring her softly. His hands gently framed her face as he stroked her hair.
Meg shuddered as he moved from her mouth to her neck. He was so big against her. He tried to keep his weight off her, but she wanted to be crushed under it. She wanted him to hold her down or tie her up. She couldn’t ask him to do that. He would probably turn away from in disgust, but she wanted it so badly. “I’m so cold. Won’t you cover me? I might be warm if you lay on top of me.”
He wasn’t able to completely close off the surge of desire her request brought out in him. He wanted to be on top of her. He wanted her helpless underneath him. Meg felt it briefly before he shut it off. “You don’t think I’m too big for you? I don’t want you cold. Let me get undressed first.”
He got out from under the covers and quickly shucked his clothes. Meg watched, her mouth watering, as his big, strong body was revealed by firelight. He was all steel and smooth muscles. The wounds he had taken in the arena had closed and were healing. His body, he’d explained earlier, could take a lot of damage and repaired itself quickly. The slight pinkness of the healing flesh didn’t detract from his perfection. He really was a work of art. Michelangelo would have been proud to sculpt that body. And then there was his cock. She had more time to study it now that he wasn’t shoving it at her face. It was big and thick, and pointing straight up, reaching his belly button. His balls were heavy and taut against his body. Even in the firelight, she could tell his cock was so hard it was purple.
How had that ever fit in her mouth? That dark voice from her fantasies reminded her. That monster cock had fit because Beck had made sure it fit. Beck had just shoved and pushed until she’d accommodated him.
“Love, let me help you.” He knelt down and reached for the hem of her shirt.
The linen shirt was all she was wearing. It was the only protection she had. If he ordered her to take it off, she would throw the damn thing into the fire. He didn’t, and she was reluctant. He’d seemed to like her body before, but the arena had changed that. If he ordered her, she would know that he wanted her. It would take away all her doubt.
He pulled the shirt over her head, and she fought not to cover herself. She also sought that connection between the two of them. It would tell her what he was feeling. Now that she’d had that connection with him, being without it made her feel alone. She tried to brush her thoughts against his, requesting the contact.
“Shhh,” he whispered, getting under the covers with her. He pulled her into his arms. “Don’t be scared, love. I won’t hurt you. I’ll be gentle.”
She gritted her teeth. He’d gotten the message, but he wasn’t very literate yet. He thought she was afraid, not frustrated and nervous.
“Just kiss me.” She could lose herself in his kisses. The man knew how to kiss.