Free Colters' Daughter by Maya Banks

loving. You deserve for me to handle you like a piece of delicate glass. I don’t think I can.”
    His words, so hoarse, his need so prevalent was like warm sunlight after a long winter. She stared up at him then touched his face with trembling fingers. “Then don’t be,” she whispered. “Just love me.”
    With a harsh groan he yanked her into his arms. She hit his chest with enough force to knock the breath from her, and his mouth devoured her all over again.
    He walked her backwards even as he yanked at her shirt, pulling it from her jeans. He shoved impatiently, freeing her from the shirt, and he wasted no time going for her pants. With one hand, he fumbled with her snap while with the other he unclasped her bra.
    With her jeans still snagged at her knees, he tumbled her onto the bed. He tugged at her jeans until they came away, and the denim went sailing across the room to hit the door with a thud.
    Then he set to work on his own clothing and she lay there, staring through half-lidded eyes as he revealed his muscular, tanned body.
    He was leaner. A little thinner than he’d been before. The whorl of dark hair at the hollow of his chest tapered to a dark line below his navel where it disappeared into the band of his slacks.
    Some of his impatience eased when he saw her watching him. He paused at his fly and began a slow tease that left her breathless with anticipation.
    Inch by delicious inch, he peeled the material down his body until the dark hair at his groin became visible and then his cock slid out, distended and swollen.
    When he was finally nude, he crawled onto the bed and straddled her body as he stared down as if memorizing every inch of her all over again.
    “You’re so beautiful. So perfect. Perfect for me. Just the right amount of soft and sweet with a thread of steel at your very core. I don’t think a more perfect woman was ever made.”
    Her breath caught and hiccupped out until her throat burned with emotion. He’d always been able to say the right thing. He didn’t throw words out carelessly. Everything he ever had to say was measured and weighed. And so exquisitely rendered.
    He was a man who when he talked, others listened. There was something in his tone that commanded respect. And obedience.
    “Do you want me, Callie? Do you want me like I want you?”
    She swallowed and nodded.
    “The words. I want the words.”
    “Yes, I want you, Max,” she said in a low voice.
    “Put your arms over your head.”
    She raised her hands and leaned back until her arms were high above her head and her knuckles grazed the edge of the mattress.
    Slowly he backed away from her and off the bed until he stood between her thighs. Then he slid his fingers up her legs to hook into the waistband of her lacy underwear.
    He tugged gently, and the tiny scrap eased over her pussy and down her legs to her knees. Her legs trembled as he pulled her underwear the rest of the way off and she was naked and vulnerable to his gaze.
    “Spread your legs for me,” he said. “I want to see you again. I want to taste you.”
    She was barely able to comply, her knees shook so badly. She knew she was wet for him. Knew she wanted him so much. His touch. His tongue. His mouth. Everything. It had been so long. So very long.
    Her heart and her body ached for him.
    He leaned down and carefully thumbed through her folds, testing her softness. He dipped a finger into her opening and slid it upward, making her flesh slick with her desire.
    He traced a circle around her clit until she squirmed and lifted her hips, wanting more.
    “Keep your arms above you,” he reminded her when she would have lowered her hands to reach for him. “Or I’ll have to tie them.”
    Oh God. Memories of her bound and completely at his mercy exploded through her mind. He’d tied her hands. He’d tied her legs. He’d had her complete submission. And he’d owned her body and soul over and over and over…
    He lowered his head even as he parted her with