Free A French Whipping by Nicole Camden Page B

wickedly, knowing that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. He’d actually run, eager to find her once he’d changed his mind.
    She reached up and grabbed his hand. “Of course you did. Asshole. Well, come on,” she urged, tugging him in the direction of his apartment, which was several blocks east toward the water.
    He resisted. “Why don’t we just go to your place? It’s closer.”
    She stepped forward until she was nearly touching him again. “Yeah, but you’ve got that fireplace . . . and all that rope.”
    Nick swallowed, picturing her naked and tied in front of his fireplace. Oh, fuck, yeah. Now he was the one dragging her, her laughing gasps sounding sweet to his ears as he pulled her along.

    He could kiss. Man, oh, man, could he kiss. She could feel herself, wet and slippery from kissing and touching him in the bar, and knew that she was going to come quickly once he slid inside her. It felt like it had been forever since she’d actually looked forward to sex; it had been at least a year since she’d had anything but her hands to get herself off.
    They walked two blocks in silence. Blake thought they might go the entire distance back to his apartment that way, but he surprised her, dragging her around in front of him and pushing her against the brick wall of a bank building.
    “I’ve been thinking about fucking you since last week. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.” He stroked her cheeks with his fingers, slid his knuckles over her ears while his thumbs pressed her mouth open. “I do want to tie you. I want to tie you with your legs spread wide and taste you with my tongue.”
    Blake felt her knees soften at the thought. He would do it. He would be infinitely patient as he tied her in a knot of desire, his tongue teasing and licking as he worshipped her, and then he’d unravel her, make her come until she was limp and exhausted. She knew that because she knew him. A meticulous, patient man, a man who liked to figure out how things worked.
    “Oh, God,” she gasped. She hadn’t thought it would be this . . . conflagration, this heat that made her pussy swell and throb with need for him. He was Nick, for God’s sake.
    He was studying her face, his eyes heavy-lidded as he studied the effect his words had on her. “You like that?”
    She nodded. She wanted him to take her that way.
    “Say it,” he murmured gruffly. “You have to ask me for everything you want, so there’s no mistake, so I don’t scare you.”
    Scared was the furthest emotion from Blake’s mind at the moment, but she knew what he meant. She’d been hurt, and sometimes the past had a way of leaping to the present. He wanted to make sure. Sweet man. Her friend.
    She gripped his thick dirty-blond hair to hold him still and met his eyes. “I want you to tie me up in front of that big fireplace and spread my legs and put your mouth on me until I scream. And then I want you to slide your big dick inside me, over and over, until both of us come so hard we can’t move until tomorrow morning.”
    “Oh, fuck.” He laughed and pressed his forehead against hers. “I should have known better. I’m going to come right here.”
    “Don’t you dare.” She pushed him away and took his hand again. “Come on, hurry.”
    They half walked, half ran the rest of the way to his apartment building, not stopping until they were in the elevator, where he pushed her up against the wall again. She returned his embrace enthusiastically, spreading her legs so that he could settle his cock between them. When that wasn’t enough, she lifted one long leg over his hip and ground herself against him, trying to soothe the aching pulse between her legs.
    “No, you don’t.” He pushed her leg down. “You’re not going to come until I let you.”
    Blake bit her swollen lip and stared at the signal in the elevator that slowly ticked upward. Slowest fucking elevator in the universe. When they reached the tenth floor—the penthouse—he pulled