Seeing none, he returned his fingers to where they joined and tweaked her tight bundle of nerves.
Beth ground her head into the pillow and screamed. Her internal muscles squeezed him.
Swallowing her scream with a punishing kiss, he plunged in and out of her, groaning at the slippery, tight grip. He drove into her, the smack of his sweat-slickened hips hitting home each time ratcheting his pleasure. Lightning shot down his spine, his bollocks tightening, and he roared the thunder as the storm of ecstasy broke over him.
Beth’s arms and legs yanked against her bonds, her breasts quivering, and her nipples hard peaks. Her inner walls contracted around his cock over and over, milking every drop from him as he pounded into her.
As her orgasm waned, he slowed his movements. Curling over her, his head hung as he shuddered with sensation.
She lay spent as he withdrew, disposed of the sheath, then snuffed the candles before moving around the bed to undo the restraints. He rubbed the circulation back into her arms and legs.
She hummed in thanks. “May I stay?”
He frowned in the darkness. He should not want her in his bed all night, but he could not imagine letting her leave.
Grunting, he slid into bed and wrapped his arms around her. Unwilling to admit more, his answer was simple. “Yes.”
Chapter Eleven
Beth woke feeling sated but wrung out. Robert repeatedly bringing her to the edge of orgasm only to deny her the fall into ecstasy had resulted in her longest orgasm ever, anew best. He really was addicting, the dratted man. She renewed her determination to see his full form unadorned.
Stretching under the covers, she reveled at how warm she was. Rolling over, she recognized her source of heat—Robert. Feeling a twinge of stiffness in her limbs from resisting her tethers, she stifled a grunt of discomfort.
He still wore his shirt. She peeked beneath the duvet. No other clothes were hidden under there.Why the shirt?
Rising, she wandered naked to the two chairs with a small table between them in front of the fireplace. As she stoked the fire to life again, papers on the table caught her eye.
Robert had sketched her, presumably while they’d been apart. He’d drawn her in his designs.
Recalling his words of her beauty, she saw it in the pencil marks. He’d captured her expression of rapture and had highlighted her eyes, lips, nipples, and weeping folds with shading, drawing the viewer’s attention there rather than her middle.
Ever curious about his designs, she shuffled the remaining pages, but they were empty. Moving over to the small open trunk from which he’d extracted the cuffs, she peered inside. There were several leather pieces of varying shapes and sizes, but many lacked hardware.
Robert stirred, sitting up and running his hands through his hair.
She straightened.
“I’d be annoyed at you poking through my things, but I was enjoying the show too much.” He grinned.
“Thank you. Shall I join you again then? Mayhap with another design to test?” She gestured to the trunk.
“Unfortunately, that shall have to wait.” He leaned over to grab his trousers, then slid across the bed to the opposite side from where she stood. Dropping his feet to the floor, he shuffled into his clothes as he stood.
Beth recalled his comments about their respective beauty.
Is he shy? Or ashamed of his body or even scarred? Is that why the room is always dimmed, and why he kept his shirt on? Is that why he declines to play in public?
After all his lovely praise of her, she hoped she could return the favor and reassure him. “Why must it wait? I assume Cheltie asked you to entertain me today whilst they take care of business.” She gave him her practiced coquettish moue.
“Yes. I have a few appointments. If you care to accompany me, I can show you a bit of Bath at the same time.”
“I’d enjoy that. Shall we meet downstairs for breakfast in thirty minutes?”
He nodded again.
Forty minutes later, Beth sailed into the breakfast room of the guesthouse.
Robert had a teacup waiting for her and poured a cup from the pot on the table as she sat.
