Lucas was a cagey bastard, and he’d caught Cole completely and utterly off guard with his proposal. It had been on the tip of Cole’s tongue to refuse. It enraged him on Ren’s behalf. But then he remembered those damn rules. Or rather that there were no damn rules in the lives that he, Lucas and Ren had chosen. Only those they made themselves.
And then, when his anger and surprise had abated, he knew that there was no way in hell he could walk away from this kind of opportunity. He wasn’t entirely certain what Lucas’s motives were in offering Ren to him on a silver platter, but what Cole did with the chance was what mattered.
He had another chance to make Ren love him. To make up to her all the pain he’d caused her. To show her the man he’d become.
He’d become more focused. Intense. He had a harder edge now and that might scare the shit out of her. He wasn’t the same young man who adored her beyond reason and was a hesitant participant in their experimentation. He wasn’t even sure he could be that man any longer.
It was a choice he agonized over. Show her the truth and take the chance that she’d never come back to him. Or lie to her and withhold the true part of himself forever.
Neither held any appeal but he knew he couldn’t lie to her or himself. Lucas had warned him of the consequences of such an action. Ren would suffer no pretenses and he was fiercely glad of it. He wanted honesty between them.
He had two weeks. Two weeks to win back the woman he’d never stopped loving. And at the end of that time, he had to hope like hell that she’d choose him because he couldn’t face losing her a second time. The first time had changed him irrevocably. This time would destroy him.
Ren sat between Lucas’s knees as the limousine slid down the highway to God only knew where. Lucas had been cryptic on details and very explicit on how she was to dress and what she was and wasn’t to wear.
She was on her knees, legs apart, the folds of her silk skirt fanned out on the floorboard. The top she wore had a plunging neckline that emphasized her full breasts and barely covered her nipples.
It was an outfit put together with access in mind. He wanted unfettered access to her.
He was distant though. And preoccupied. Whether it was business or something else entirely, she wasn’t sure, but he seemed restless and cagey and she knew from experience that he was harder and rougher when he was in such a mood.
He slid his hand down the middle of her chest and then impatiently pushed aside the material covering her breasts. He thumbed her nipple idly, almost as if he couldn’t quite decide what he wanted to do with her.
It was unusual for Lucas to show clear indecision and she wondered what could possibly be occupying his mind that he was so distracted.
Abruptly, he slid his finger between the band of her collar and her skin and yanked forward until she was leaning against him, her belly pressed to his crotch. He kissed her. Hard.
She felt …branded. Like he was proving all over again that she belonged to him. His teeth bit into her lip, drawing blood, and then he licked over the tender area, sweeping the blood away and onto his tongue.
She wanted to ask him what bothered him, but knew that particular boundary between them shouldn’t be breached. He was private, and if he wanted her to know, he would tell her.
As he pulled away, he held her face in one hand, his grip firm as he stared into her eyes. He looked as though his control was barely leashed and that he might toss her down and take her roughly.
Her breath caught and held with anticipation. Her body tingled and came alive. Her clit pulsed and ached. Her breasts tightened, her nipples hardening.
“How well you know me,” he murmured.
He stroked his hand over her cheek and then over the lip he’d nipped, soothing away the slight ache. His features hardened, and she shivered at the sudden infusion of darkness into his eyes.
“Get up on the seat. On your hands and knees.”
She rose up on her knees, crawled over his left leg and onto the long seat he was slouched in. Her palms sank into the sumptuous leather and her knees pressed just at the seam between two sections of the seat.
She felt him move behind her. A cool rush skittered over her ass as he pushed her skirt to her waist and allowed it to bunch there.
“There are two things I want tonight,” he said, the rasp of arousal deep in his voice. “My mark on your ass and my cum inside your body when we arrive.”
She almost asked where they were going but held her tongue. He wouldn’t have liked that slip. She shifted restlessly, aching for his hand against her bottom.
The slap, when it came, startled her and sent her forward. She braced herself against the seat and pushed back, begging silently for more. He loved when she did that.
He rubbed his palm over the burning spot to soothe the hurt and then administered another stinging blow to her other cheek. She moaned softly. With another man, that might have gotten her into trouble. But Lucas loved to hear her sounds of passion. He liked to know he pleased her even though her purpose was to please him.
He encouraged her uninhibited responses as long as it fell within the boundaries of obedience. If she enjoyed what she experienced, he expected her to express it. If she didn’t enjoy it, she was also free to express that as well, but it may or may not cause it to end.
Lucas followed a simple rule. If it wasn’t harmful—and by harmful, he meant causing her permanent physical or psychological damage—then she had no choice but to endure it. Afterward, he might invite her to tell him why she didn’t like the experience and he would then consider whether he would ever make her suffer it again.
Cole hadn’t been her only dominant lover. There had been a total of four in the last ten years since Cole. Lucas was her favorite, though. He …He just got her. He understood her. He wasn’t out to prove his masculinity or his power. He wasn’t afraid to be wrong or to make mistakes, though she couldn’t ever remember a time when he’d done anything she considered a mistake.
It probably sounded dramatic but she couldn’t think of much she wouldn’t do for Lucas. And it was because she trusted him. A component that had been lacking in her last relationship, and consequently it had been her shortest.
The next blow caught her unaware for the sheer brutality of it. The pain shocked her and suddenly Lucas’s hand was wrapped in her hair and he yanked her back, forcing her head so that their gazes met.
“Am I boring you, Ren? Would you prefer to be somewhere else?”
Her mouth twisted in dismay because it was the last thing she wanted him to think. “I’m sorry, Lucas. I was thinking.”
His hold loosened only slightly. “What were you thinking that was more important than me?”
“I was thinking of you,” she said honestly. “I was comparing my relationship with you to the others I’ve had.”
His hand gentled and he ran his fingers through her hair in a gentle pet. “Do you know what I love most about you, Ren?”
The question startled her. She’d expected his anger. Not this sudden …affection.
“You tell me the truth, no matter how awkward or potentially uncomfortable. It would be so easy to lie and say you drifted away or that you were thinking about where we’re going. Why is that?” he finished softly.
Her brow wrinkled in confusion. His hand soothed over the subsiding burn where he’d marked her, stroking and caressing.
“Why do I not lie to you?”
“I suppose that’s what I’m asking. I know that you’re inherently an honest person, but even the most honest person will seek not to make herself vulnerable to another.”
Her expression eased and she locked gazes with him. “Because I trust you not to use my vulnerability against me.”