Maya Banks - Hidden Away

He touched her jaw and she instantly went still. She turned, releasing him from her mouth and faced him, her eyes glowing softly.

“Should I stop?”

“Hell no.” He couldn’t contain the explosive denial and he worked to amend his statement. “Only for a moment. It’s too soon. It’s too good to end so quickly.”

Her lips curved upward into a sensual smile of a female who knew she was pleasing her man. She stroked him with her hand, working up and down in slow, rhythmic motions as she continued to watch him.

“Lower,” he said in a husky voice. “Touch me lower. Wrap your fingers around me, honey. I want you everywhere.”

He moaned when she slid her hand all the way down to the base and then let go to cup his balls. She measured the weight in her hand squeezing gently and running her fingers over the sac.

“With your mouth,” he whispered. “Do it while you use your mouth.”

Her hair fell like a curtain as she lowered her head again. He pushed it aside, wanting to see her mouth as she closed it around his cock. As she massaged and rolled his balls in her hand, she sucked wetly down his length, exerting firm pressure with her mouth.

His breath escaped in a long hiss and every muscle in his body tightened. The pressure was painful as his bruised and aching muscles protested, but he urged her on, the pleasure of her mouth too much to deny.

“I’m close,” he warned. “You can use your hand if you don’t want me to come in your mouth.”

She made a low purring sound in the back of her throat and then took him whole. He bumped against the back of her mouth and felt her swallow—an invitation—against the head. Oh God, he wasn’t going to last.

Like silk, she glided sensuously over his cock, her tongue rubbing erotically along the underside. She increased the pace and tightened the pressure until he was nearly insane with the mounting frenzy.

“Sarah.”

Her name tore from his lips just as his release boiled up and over. Fire shot through his groin and raced through his veins like quicksilver. He spurted against the back of her throat and then his release coated warm liquid in her mouth and over his cock. She swallowed and continued her downward motion, taking him and holding him like she savored every inch.

Nothing had ever been so good. He floated, free of pain, free of everything but her.

Gently, she coaxed the last of his release from him with soft sucking motions. Then she carefully pulled him from her mouth and then facing him, she laid her cheek on his thighs and slid her hand up his hip and to his belly.

She smiled up at him, her eyes soft and contented. He trailed fingers through her hair, stroking over and over.

“That was amazing,” he murmured.

“I didn’t hurt you?”

There was worry in her voice and even as she asked, she slid her hand over the bruises as if she could wipe them away with her touch.

“I promise you I felt nothing but pleasure after I got inside your mouth.”

She smiled again. “I’m glad. I wanted to take away the pain for a little while.”

“You did more than that,” he said softly. “You gave me something very special. Don’t think I’ll forget.”

Her cheeks colored prettily and he brushed his fingers over her temple.

“Let’s go eat,” he suggested. “I imagine you’re starving, and I promised you caramel num nums.”

She laced her fingers with his and squeezed. “You’ve kept all your promises, Garrett.”

DINNER was fun. Sarah wasn’t sure if it was due to her relief at being alive and safe or if she just enjoyed Garrett’s company that much. He put her in charge of the three-meat dinner course while he worked on caramel num nums.

“I think you got the better work detail,” she said as she sniffed at the caramel he was stirring.

“This is delicate work,” he defended.

She snorted and cracked open the oven to peer at the chicken breasts and pork chops. “Almost done here. What about you?”

In response, he picked up the pot from the burner and carried it over to the pie dish, where he’d formed the graham cracker crust. He carefully spooned the mixture into the shell and then dropped the pot into the sink.

“It needs to cool before I pour on the chocolate, so we can eat first,” he said.

They set the table and Garrett helped dish up the pieces of meat. By the time they sat down, Sarah’s stomach was growling. She was starving!

As she ate, she was unable to keep her gaze from straying to Garrett. When they were in captivity together, she’d admitted to herself that she loved him. She’d wondered briefly if it was simply an emotional reaction to the possibility that they’d die in that shit hole. But now as she stared at him, she realized that her feelings for him couldn’t be explained away that easily.

The words danced on her tongue, eager to be set free, but she was deeply conscious of the fact that to him she was a job. He worked for her brother. A brother who was extremely protective of her.

Yes, she’d tell him. Maybe not right this minute. She’d always chuckled at the idea of waiting until just the right time to tell someone you loved them. Wasn’t any time good for such a thing? She realized now it wasn’t as easy as that. There was marked difficulty in making yourself that vulnerable to someone else. Bearing your soul gave the other person power over you.

“What are you thinking?” Garrett asked.

She shook herself from her thoughts and then smiled. “I was thinking I’m ready for a caramel num num.”

“I’ll melt the chocolate right quick and then I’ll pour it on. Thirty minutes in the fridge ought to set it right and then we can dive in.”

She watched as he ambled back into the kitchen. Already his gait was smoother, though she could still sense tenderness in the way he walked. Garrett wasn’t the type to dwell on pain, though. To him it was merely an inconvenience.

He looked up, caught her staring and his lips turned up into a smile. It took her breath away. Her pulse sped up and thumped against her skin until she was aware of every beat. His gaze smoldered with sensual promise.

She bit at her bottom lip and shivered. There was a lot she still had to tell him. Preferably before they became immersed in a sexual relationship.

A ridiculously giddy thrill rocketed up her spine, forcing a grin to her face. Sexual relationship. She was calmly contemplating a sexual relationship and furthermore, so far, she’d been the aggressor.

She had the absurd urge to stand up and do a double-fist pump with a yeah attached for emphasis.

What Allen and Stanley Cross had done hadn’t been about sexual attraction or even sex. It was about power and the ability to inflict their will on someone weaker. Allen had raped her because he could, not because he was overwhelmed by desire.

Garrett wanted her. He desired her. But he held himself back because he was afraid of scaring her. She found that fact endearing, and it only made her want him all the more.

She watched as Garrett placed the dessert into the fridge and her breath caught in her throat as he returned to the table.

“So what do we do for the next thirty minutes or so?” she asked.

“Well, what I want to do is going to take a hell of a lot longer than thirty minutes.”

Oh lordy. Her hormones just went haywire.

“Maybe we could just talk,” she murmured. There was a lot she still had to tell him. Preferably before she got swept away and became so senseless she forgot her name.

He moved closer to her, put his hand on her face, stroking over her cheekbone and then into her hair.

“What would you like to talk about?”

She took a deep breath. “I have something I need to tell you.”

His brow furrowed in concern and his fingers stilled on her face. “Okay. I’m listening.”

Sarah glanced around. She hadn’t seen Rio or his men since they’d arrived at the house, but she couldn’t dispel the unease or the fear of being overheard. She peeked back at Garrett and chewed nervously at her bottom lip.

“Can we go into the bedroom? It’s ... private.”

Garrett’s look of concern deepened, but he turned without question, snagged her hand and pulled her gently toward the bedroom.

Once they were inside, he closed the door and faced her. “Whatever’s most comfortable for you.”

“You sit,” she said. “On the bed. I’d prefer you not to loom over me. This is ... hard ... for me.”

Garrett turned toward the bed, but he laced his fingers with hers and pulled her with him. He sat on the edge and then positioned her between his legs. He held both of her hands and looked up into her eyes. Then he squeezed. Just a simple gesture of support, but it meant the world to her.

“I’ve never told even Marcus this,” she said frankly. “I might have eventually but after what he did to Allen, I knew I couldn’t. He would have gone crazy. Saying aloud that Allen raped me was bad enough. I couldn’t bear the humiliation of telling the rest.”

Garrett’s face darkened. “The rest? You mean there’s more?”

She nodded slowly and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She sucked in steadying breaths and blinked to hold the burn at bay.

“Tell me,” he said gently.

“You need to know. I should have told you the minute you told me that Stanley Cross had hired someone to find me. I was too ashamed.”

Garrett’s thumbs rubbed softly over her wrists and his gaze never left hers.

“He ... he was there. The night Allen raped me. He ... helped.”