Free Surrender to Temptation Part III: Tempted to Obey by Lauren Jameson Page A

deal with them. Because of that, I was rusty at handling the onslaught of sensations that this man was continually sending my way.
    “Devon.” Bending at the waist, he tangled his hands in my hair, tugging just hard enough to awaken the nerves that ran over my scalp. I hissed at the seconds of pain I felt, then found my protest swallowed when Zach took my mouth with his own.
    “Zach!” My head swam as he kissed me with a fervor that said he would die if he didn’t have me right then and right there. For a moment I held still, frozen in place, still disconcerted by the morning but not wanting to reject him.
    The way his lips slanted over my own, the slight pain from the tugs on my hair, broke through my uncertainty, shattering it like a pane of glass. Responding to the heated need that was emanating from him in storm-sized waves, I dug my fingers into his broad shoulders and pulled him closer, opening my mouth eagerly for his tongue.
    A sound of approval rumbled through his throat. Removing one hand from my hair, he parted my knees and slid his hand up the insides of my thighs, which were naked beneath the plush towel. He moved swiftly to the heat of my pussy, which was already wet with want.
    He slid one finger inside of me without warning, and I cried out against his lips. My mind went blissfully blank as my hips moved, trying to get closer to him.
    When he abruptly broke the kiss and moved away, I shivered at the cool touch of the air where the raging inferno of his body had been. I watched, the air in the room thick with silence as Zach padded across the plush carpeting to his dresser. His entire body, in all of its muscular glory, was exposed to my gaze, and I drank in the sight.
    Opening and shutting the top drawer, Zach pulled an object from its depths. When he turned and the long coil of braided leather fell from his hand to the floor, my stomach clenched.
    “Zach . . .” I was not in the mood for play. Though he had apologized, albeit stiffly, for grabbing my arms, and though I truly believed that he had been asleep still and hadn’t recognized me, the intimacy of the night before was gone.
    I didn’t think that he would hurt me—in my very core, I believed this. But the darkness that shrouded him as he moved to stand directly in front of me sent shivers dancing over my skin.
    I opened my mouth to say something, and was startled into silence when Zach put the whip into my hands. The leather of the handle was cool against the clammy skin of my palm.
    Looking up at him with wide eyes, I tilted my head and peered up at him.
    “I want you to whip me.” I heard the dominance that he had shown me a taste of the night before, but it was twined with a thread of grief so deep that he seemed to choke on it. When my eyes met his, I saw that agony threatening to overwhelm the big, beautiful creature in front of me.
    Under my searching gaze, Zach’s face became shuttered. He replaced anguish with arrogance and authority.
    “I told you to whip me.” His voice was like a whip itself, lashing against my bare skin.
    I swallowed hard. Part of me was drawn to what he represented in that moment, pain and dark clouds bound up together with pleasure. I wasn’t sure that I liked being drawn to the darkness, especially not right then.
    Everything in me wanted to please this man . . . but I didn’t feel that a whipping would ultimately bring him pleasure.
    “Devon.” Dominant Zach faltered for a moment, allowing me a glimpse into his nightmares. What I saw there—pain and agony swimming up from the dark depths of his eyes—made pity roll through my gut.
    He was asking me to help alleviate his pain, though I didn’t quite understand how whipping him would do so.
    Still, how could I possibly say no to this man, when he had already brought so much to my life?
    Biting my lip until the taste of blood spread out over my tongue, I wrestled with the decision in my head, though I ultimately knew what I was going to do. At my