“Why would you say that?”
“Because I’m screwed up. You deserve someone better than me. A lot better.”
“Maybe I’m happy with you, faults and all. I’m not perfect either.”
“Oh, yes. You are perfect. Everything about you is perfect.” Still holding my hand, he flipped it over and kissed my wrist. “This part is perfect.” Being silly, but adorable, he kissed a path up my arm to the crook of my elbow. “And this.” Continuing north, he kissed my upper arm then over my shoulder. “And this.” He kept going, kissing and nipping along my collarbone. “And this part too.”
I giggled as he nibbled the ticklish spot at the base of my neck. The entire right side of my body tingled. He’d given me goose bumps. Again. He was really, really good at doing that. “You’re so silly.”
“Am I?” Taking my wrists in his hands, he lifted them up and separated them out, pinning them against the boards behind me.
I quivered, before he’d even started to cuff them.
There was nowhere that I felt more alive than in this room with this man. My heart was pounding, my skin tingling, my senses all heightened. I waited, each second absolute agony, to see what he would do next.
He started working on my pants, unbuttoning the fly and revealing an inch of skin at a time. His fingers were nimble, though he seemed to intentionally delay his progress as he pushed them down over my hips. It took a while, but the slow pace and his total focus made me that much warmer.
How he looked at me. How he touched me. It was almost impossible to remain still. I wasn’t breathing normally. Instead of slow, shallow and steady breaths, I was gasping.
When he had my pants off, he stepped back, smiled. “Perfect.”
“I’m so glad you like what you see.”
“I love what I see.”
Love. My heart skipped a beat or two. Maybe even three.
I felt my face heating up, my cheeks turning pink.
“Ah, there’s that pretty flush.” He caught the center of my bra with his index finger and tugged. “Hmmm. I should have taken this off before I cuffed your wrists, I suppose. Oh well.” Moving so close, I felt his body heat radiating over my chest, he focused his gaze on mine. His hands skimmed around my ribcage to my back, found the hooks and, in a snap, had them undone. My breath caught in my throat. “Look. That flush has spread.” His dark gaze wandered lower, to my chest. My ni**les pulled into hard, aching points.
I whimpered.
“Sshhh,” he whispered, looking wicked and sexy. He pushed the cups of my bra up, exposing my flesh to his eyes, his mouth, his hands. He took full advantage, as I knew he would. He pinched one nipple between his left thumb and index finger until the pain was as sharp as a blade, piercing my insides. Then he laved the other with his warm, smooth tongue.
Pain. Pleasure. They blended inside me, swirling round and round, stoking fires ignited deep inside.
How I loved his world. Dark. Dangerous. Sensual. In this place I could explore the forbidden. Without shame. Without guilt or doubt.
My fingers curled into tight fists. My knees softened. I was melting. Already. Losing myself in ecstasy.
“There are so many things I want to show you, to teach you. This is only the beginning.” He scraped his teeth across my nipple, and my spine arched. Oh God, it was delicious agony.
“Yes teach me. I want to please you.”
“You do. In every way.” He flicked his tongue down the center of my chest, between my br**sts. “The way you breathe pleases me.” His hands brushed down my sides, fingers spanning my ribcage. “The way you smell pleases me.” His tongue dipped into the shallow hollow of my belly button. “The way you tense beneath my touch pleases me.” Lower, he was moving lower, squatting before me. The tissues between my legs started to pulse with heat. “The way you writhe in ecstasy pleases me.” His hands curved over my hips, holding them in place. “Open your legs for me.”
I widened my stance.
“Wider.”
I shuffled my feet farther apart.
“Wider, Bristol. I need you open, wide open.”
I moved them even farther apart. My inner thigh muscles burned. My arms—still fastened at the wrists in the cuffs—stretched.
“Yes. Better.” His lips caressed my shaven mound. “Delicious.”
I quivered. His voice was low and husky. It vibrated through me like an electrical current. My insides clenched as he fastened one ankle then the other.
Bound. Both wrists. Both ankles. I was completely at his mercy now.
What would he do? What delightful pleasures would he introduce to me now?
One of his hands inched around to my wet center. The tip of one finger slipped between my nether lips to tease my clit. I would have crumpled to the ground if I hadn’t been shackled. My knees buckled, leaving all my weight to be supported by my cuffed arms. I straightened my legs right away.
“Ah, you’re going to have to stay strong, minx.” He flicked that wicked finger over my cl*t again, and I locked my knees to avoid falling again. “That’s better. Now, let’s take it to the next step.”
The next step. What might that be? The muscles in my thighs were twitching. My bones felt like mush already. And my insides…they were simmering. I was a mass of writhing desperation. I couldn’t be still, despite the chains.
He stood, his big, hard body mere inches from me but beyond my reach. I could smell him. I could see him. I could practically taste him. But I could not touch him. It was so cruel. And thrilling.
He stripped off his shirt. My gaze slithered down his flexing, muscular torso, bumped over his abs and stopped at the waist of his pants.
“Are you ready to see more?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ll have to earn it.”
I whimpered. “How?”
“Answer one question. Answer it truthfully. What are you most afraid of?”
I didn’t know how to answer that question. I’d never had to verbalize any fear. And talking about fear now--when I was so aroused--was an added challenge. My head was foggy from the need pulsing through my veins. “I…don’t understand.”
“What are you most afraid of?” he repeated.
“Death, I suppose.”
“Death? Or dying?”
“Both?” Why was he asking this now? Thinking about something so terrible was dragging me down, pulling me out of the moment.
He unzipped his pants. “Why?”
My gaze locked on the tiny vee of flesh his open fly exposed, and my heart started pounding again. “I don’t know. I guess I’m afraid it will be terrifying. Or painful. Everyone dies alone. Nobody can help me. Nobody can take the pain away or ease the process.”