Suddenly, he spanks my ass, startling me. It’s hard enough to make my skin heat but not hard enough to make me cry out.
He tips up an eyebrow in the mirror.
“Green.”
He moves back to the table and chooses another rope, this one red and thicker than the last one. He unravels it before stepping behind me and looping it around my waist. He weaves it through the bottom of the purple strands and then down around my hips, his knuckles teasing and tormenting me with every pass of the rope.
He has to run it under my crotch, to the side of my pussy, and back up again, but he pauses and brushes his fingers through my slit, making me groan.
“So wet already,” he murmurs and kisses my back. “So warm.”
I whimper, and he keeps tying the knots. They’re so beautiful. I don’t even want to think about all of the practice he had to do to make it this perfect.
Don’t go there.
This man is twenty years older than you. He’s had a lot of life experience. Shut your brain off, Eloise.
“Firefly.”
My gaze whips up to his in the mirror.
“Why are you frowning?”
I blink rapidly and school my face. “Sorry, I was in my head.”
His eyes narrow, and he tips his head to the side. Then his hand is between my legs again, but not in my slit. He’s cupping my thigh, near the crease where my leg meets torso, and I bite my lip.
“Color,” he demands, his voice harder than before, his eyes colder than earlier.
“Green,” I whisper, but his eyes narrow. “Very green.”
His hand moves up, and suddenly, he plunges his two middle fingers inside me, and I cry out, arching into him.
“Christ, you’re fucking gorgeous,” he mutters, watching us in the mirror. “I want you to stay here with me, baby. At this moment.”
I swallow hard as my walls contract around his thick fingers,sowanting to come. Needing it.
“Not yet,” he whispers against my ear. “How close are you?”
“So close. Rome, please.”
He pulls his hand away and shoves the fingers that were just inside me into my mouth.
“Clean me up so I don’t get the ropes dirty.”
My tongue swirls around his fingers, licking him clean. I won’t mention that the ropes will be dirty from my wet pussy anyway, and the smirk on his handsome face tells me he’s thinking the same thing.
And he doesn’t care.
When I’ve licked myself off him, his hand drifts down my neck, down my torso over the ropes. Ihope he’s going to return to my core, to massage that ache out of me, but he simply grins and then lets go.
Damn him!
He chuckles and grabs another length of rope, this one orange, and he weaves it through the purple and starts to loop it down my right leg.
Holy shit, that’s pretty.
Rome squats next to me and kisses my hip, my thigh, as his fingers deftly work that beautiful orange down my leg. I’ve always been self-conscious about my thighs because they’re …shapely, and I have cellulite.
