“Which one?”
I smile down at her. “To tie you up and spend as long as I want eating you.”
* * *
Eilidh
Heat fillsmy face and my pulse spikes. I know he can tell it does, because his smile darkens, widens, pure desire.
“You are, huh?”
He arches his eyebrow at me. “Yeesss. I want another taste of that sweet pussy. That tease earlier wasn’t nearly enough to satiate me.”
Gulp!
When the backs of my knees hit the bed, he eases me down onto it, following me and kissing me until I pretty much forget my own name, assumed or otherwise. Before I know it, I’m helping him strip me, until I’m lying there naked before him, except for the ring on the chain, and he’s still fully clothed.
“One last thing,” he says, pointing to my wig.
I quickly remove the hair pins, pull the wig and wig cap off, and then take out the hair bands and pins holding my braids in place.
He takes it all from me and puts it on the dresser, then uses his fingers to comb out my tresses. “Perfect. Don’t move, sweetheart.” He retrieves something from the closet—a few things, it turns out—and holds up a coil of rope to start with.
“What are your safewords?”
I swallow. “Redandyellow.”
“And where are we right now?”
“Green, Sir.”
He holds up a sleep mask, dangling it from his finger. “Yes, or no?”
All the times I’ve watched people submitting to the vampires and longed to experience it come flooding to mind.
All the times I’ve denied myself, refused invitations to scene. Even from Lucius’ men, who promised not to feed from me or thrall me, if I’d just submit to them.
All the fantasies that have filled my dreams for years.
“Yes, Sir.”
That gorgeous smile widens, and my personal Not-Ianto leans in and kisses me. “Good girl,” he whispers. He kisses me again and eases the blindfold over my head, fitting it in place. “How’s that?”
“Green.”
I hear and feel him step away for just a moment, like he’s getting something else from the closet. “I will not feed from you tonight,” he says. “I swear. I doubt anything I do tonight will accidentally draw blood, either. I want that clear. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I feel the bed sink next to me. Then I hear the whisper of rope as he uncoils it, the softthumpas the loose end lands next to me on the mattress, and then his hands are back, at my right wrist.
Working quickly, he binds my wrist, pushes my thighs open, and bends my knees up and back. My right knee is quickly lashed to my wrist, and then that to somewhere else, I’m assuming an underbed restraint point, because it has several. He repeats it with my left wrist and knee, and I’m lying there spread open for him.
“Wonderful,” he whispers.
My breath comes in quick, shallow gasps as anticipation wrenches sky-high. I do trust him.
And I want this.
