She dug her fingers into the dusting of dark hair across his chest. “You said you’d go without the linen if we … you know.” How did people normally talk of this?Didpeople talk about it, or did men just take what they wanted without the conversation? She wished she could be more direct, but her upbringing didn’t allow the words to pass her lips. She was sure she wasn’t alone. And if it wasn’t talked about, and men dove right in, there must be a lot of confused women in England.
His eyes glittered darkly. “Are you offering me your arse tonight, Amanda?”
Cheeks burning, she nodded. Perhaps directness was overrated. A euphemism never hurt anyone.
He skimmed his palm from her hip to her breast. “Are you certain? Because I would love nothing more than to feel you wrapped around me, skin to skin. To empty myself deep within you.”
She dug her nails into him and shuddered. “Yes,” she whispered.
He took her lips, his kiss gentle, slow. His tongue found hers and met it stroke for stroke. He placed one hand at her nape and one hand on her bum, and pulled her into his body. His cock pressed against her belly, heat rolling off of it in waves. The kiss turned feral. He nipped at her tongue and swallowed her moans down as though he needed them to survive. The tips of his fingers dug into her bottom, and each point of pressure sent a twinge of desire to her core.
She gripped his hip and tried to keep up. Each plunge of his tongue was demanding, possessive. His heartbeat pounded against her chest, and excitement slid through her veins.
She might not mean forever to him, but in that moment, he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
Reaching between them, she took hold of his length and stroked. The hand at the nape of her neck tightened. Pushing his chest into hers, Julius eased her back until she was lying on the bed.
He pulled his mouth from hers, breathing heavy. “Roll over. On your hands and knees.” He arranged a pillow under her and pushed her down so her belly rested on it, her knees spread. Placing a hot open-mouthed kiss on each vertebrae of her spine, Julius slid down her body. “Don’t move,” he told her when he reached the base.
Amanda hugged the top of the pillow and waited for his return. Turning her head, she tried to follow his movements but only heard rustling behind her. The mattress sagged under his weight, and he crawled beside her.
Hemp scraped across the delicate skin on the inside of her elbow. The slight abrasion sent a shiver down her back. Tapping her hip, he urged her up an inch, far enough for him to slide the rope around her knee. He pulled the end tight, and Amanda’s elbow and knee were tugged together.
She rolled her shoulder, settling into the feeling of her unusual freedom.
Julius kissed her back. “All right?”
“Yes.” Already she felt coddled. Protected. Cool air licked between her folds, and her ache turned into throbbing need.
Binding her other arm and leg together, Julius ran a finger between the ropes and her skin. The cables were snug, but not tight. They did their job, keeping her immobile, and unaccountable. She could raise her head but nothing more.
“Have I told you how beautiful your skin looks against the purple hemp?” Julius asked. “Like I’ve captured my very own queen.” He trailed his fingers along the rope, from her elbows to her knees, and Amanda felt every faint vibration deep in her bones. He traced at the seam where cable met skin, around her thigh and up to the crease where her sex met her leg. He teased at her lower lips.
Amanda lifted her hips as far as the ropes allowed, trying to get him to touch her in the right place. He chuckled and kept his finger feather-light. “Julius,” she said, a note of warning in her voice.
“Why do you think I love tying you up, Amanda?” He grazed his fingers over her clit, so gently it felt like the kiss of butterfly wings dancing over her skin. “You look beautiful, yes. But when I have you secured as I want, you’re defenseless against me. I can torment you, toy with you as much as I want, with you unable to stop me. You’re completely open to me.”
He circled the tip of one finger at her opening, and she whimpered. She wanted to sink down on him so badly, force the contact.
“So damn wet.” He spread her slickness down her folds, and circled her nub. “But let’s get you a little bit wetter.”
Oil trickled over her lower back, rolling down her bottom. Julius smoothed his hands across her skin, rubbing the slickness in. He skimmed around her upper thigh and scissored his fingers around her clit with his left hand. Laying his right hand on her lower back, Julius slid his thumb between her cheeks and circled her opening.
The twin sensations made her shudder. She rocked her hips back and forth, settling into his rhythm. The pressure on her nub increased and waves of pleasure built, one on top of the other until she was about to break.
Julius removed his hand.
More oil drizzled across her back. Julius rubbed her thighs and calves and worked his way up to knead her bottom. Her muscles slowly released, and she sagged against her bonds.
He slid his left hand down between her thighs and flicked her clit. His thumb danced around her back entrance, never penetrating, only succeeding in making her body scream to be filled.
Julius eased his right thumb between her cheeks. He slicked the oil around the ring of muscles, over and over, and all of her nerve endings sparked. For a feeling that had started out so strange when Julius first touched her there, the sensation was quickly becoming one of her favorites. She climbed towards the crest of her wave, panting with need, and Julius dropped his left hand. Again.
She almost cried. “Why?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. He also hadn’t stopped circling her back ring with his thumb. “When I press into you, I want you so desperate for relief that you’ll beg me to take you, any which way.” The tip of his thumb pushed past her muscles, and she tensed. He flicked a finger against her nub. “I know why you like being bound. Once you’re in my hands, at my mercy, you know there’s no use fighting. You don’t have to worry whether something is right or proper. Sensible or wanton. It just is. So, relax into my touch, and accept.”
The taps against her nub quickened in pace. Sweat rolled from her hairline down into the coverlet. Amanda’s whole body felt as though it were shaking apart. Only the ropes held her together. She was so close, but she'd never felt so empty. Her core clenched at nothing, weeping with frustration.
