Crash for Me (The Blankenships Book 7) Read Free

was cold, it was calculating, and in the space between one heartbeat and the next, she suddenly knew that part of the reason she loved Alex was that he would understand that part of her. He had it too, although he put his cold, calculating side towards running a multinational corporation. But he understood that part of your mind that never bothered engaging in emotions, the part that sat quietly, taking down names and notes and descriptions for later use. “What do you need me to do?”
     
    “Right now?” he said. “Be mine. Tomorrow morning, we’ll have a set of goals, and we’ll work on them together. I trust you. You know that?”
     
    She’d suspected it, but hearing the confirmation pushed a warm heat through her skin. She was surprised she didn’t become a source of light in the dim room. “Thank you.”
     
    “I didn’t kill her.” That scared little boy surfaced for a moment, his eyes haggard and torn, having watched everything he loved go to pieces in such a short amount of time.
     
    “I know,” Zoey said, gathering him close to her and kissing the top of his head. “I know, love, I never for a second thought you did.”
     
    He didn’t start to cry, though. That surprised her, just a little, but he was still turning his emotions inside out, only feeling the ones he wanted to feel. His mouth came to her neck, hot and fierce, his tongue carving heated paths through her flesh until she couldn’t keep her hips still; she couldn’t keep her moans inside.
     
    “I’m going to fuck you,” he murmured against her skin, his fingers twisting the silk over her nipple, a sensation that made her shiver and whimper. “I’m going to fuck you hard. I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to take your ass or your cunt. Do you have an opinion on the matter?” As he asked, his fingers circled the tight ring of her ass, and then pressed shallowly into her wet and aching pussy.
     
    “Oh god,” she whispered, resisting the urge to fuck his hands; he’d take them away—she’d learned that—and she did not want him to do that. “I want what you want, Alex. Sir. I want you to do what you want to do. I can’t choose.”
     
    He slowed down then, a quiet and contemplative look replacing the sheer angry lust in his eyes. “You raise a very interesting point,” he said. “Why should you choose? It’s not necessary at all.” He swirled his fingers down over her clit for a moment, and she lost control of her hips. They bucked into his hand, seeking more contact, more sensation, as spirals of electric heat burned through her. “I’ll be back,” he said. “Don’t move.”
     
    She took him at his word and held herself still on the bed as he went through the passage in the closet. He was only gone a few moments, and she kept herself as quiet as she could while he fastened leather cuffs to the bed. This time, however, it was her wrists that were tied back. He propped her torso up with pillows so that she rested at a gentle recline.
     
    There was a little curdle of fear in her stomach, watching him, bound as she was. She knew these cuffs were designed that she could pull free if she needed to, but the fear didn’t go away. Last time he’d tied her down, things had gotten too fierce far too fast.
     
    He saw the fear in her eyes, she supposed, because he stilled as he pulled off the clothes that didn’t fit him. “Are you okay?” He asked, none of that lust or need in his voice now. Just careful watching, careful attention.
     
    “Yes,” she said, even though the answer was probably much closer to a maybe.
     
    He sat down next to her, his hand resting on her thigh in a way that somehow seemed friendly instead of needy. “Talk to me, Zoey. What’s in your head?”
     
    “Last time—” It was all she needed to say.
     
    He nodded, a darkness settling over him and then fleeing. “Last time, I wasn’t careful enough. I know.”
     
    “I want to.”
     
    “But you’re nervous.”
     
    Her turn to