“Where did you learn that knot?”
“Now what?” she asked as she knelt beside him.
“Do whatever you want.”
“So I could lay down and fall asleep and leave you like this to be discovered by Matilda?”
“You could, if that is what you wish. It would be even more embarrassing if I were naked.”
She looked over his body, her gaze snagging on his groin. Being tied down and at her mercy might be exciting him more than he anticipated.
“Why don’t I make you tell me what I want to know?”
“Because I’m going to trust that you won’t if I ask you not to. But like this, I can’t stop you. I’m betting you’re not a fan of torture, Flick.”
She put her hand on his thigh and blood surged to his cock.
Please touch me. Believe me.
She reached for the buttons of his trousers and undid them, freeing his cock. She wiggled his trousers lower, and Tristan lifted his hips to help. He bit his tongue, not wanting to tell her what to do. She wanted control, and she could have it. He wouldn’t let his mind run away with what he wished might happen. She was, after all, a woman with a scientific mind that leaned toward medicine. She might take this chance to study him for intellectual purposes. But he bloody prayed she did not. He wanted her sweet tongue and hot mouth wrapped around his cock. She could torture him all she wanted like that.
She gripped him with one hand, teasing his bollocks with the other. Tristan bit his tongue, but he couldn’t stop the reflexive thrust of his hips.
Her gaze snapped to his face. “This seems more pleasant for you than me.”
“I can’t help it, love. Just looking at you makes me hard. Now your hands are on me. I’m in heaven.”
“I once heard Fran discussing something with another maid.”
“Oh?”
“It sounded abhorrent.”
His hopes dissipated.
“But now I’m curious. After the way you kiss me, and the way you react when I stroke you...”
“Whatever you feel like doing, I promise I will love it.”
She shook her head at him, but her lips twitched with a smile. She bent over him and touched the tip of her tongue to the crown of his cock. He closed his eyes. If he watched her take him inside her mouth, he might combust and end this game before it even started.
She teased him with short, exploratory licks, moving her hands up and down his shaft while he fought against moving his hips. She wrapped her lips around the side of him and a groan caught in his throat, the words for what he wanted fighting to get out, but this was for her, not him.
She licked up the side of him and then, before his held breath gave out, she took his head into her mouth.
“You’re so perfect, love. I love you,” he blurted.
She huffed a breath against him, as she played with the depth of her mouth. He wouldnotforce himself deeper. He had an iron lock on that urge. He’d let her do what she wanted, and it would always be enough. He could easily let his desires run rampant with thoughts of spilling on her tongue or her pert pink nipples. It would take very little for him to climax, but he held back.
She oscillated between licking and sucking on him, massaging his balls, and kissing the ticklish skin around his pelvis. He started to sweat, his muscles locked to keep from moving, when she stopped altogether.
He opened his eyes. She stared at his cock, then, she got to her knees and lifted her nightgown to her waist. A shudder of need overtook him as she straddled his hips, his cock nudging her curls, the tip glistening with her wetness.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“What do I do?” she asked, placing her hands on his lower chest.
“To summarize, you just have to sit. Slowly. Feel your way through it.”
