He had to clear his throat to speak. “You have my attention.”
Understatement of the year.
“I’m going to ask you three easy questions: ayesornowill suffice.”
Before he could appreciate her clever stratagem, she left his field of vision. When she next spoke, it was from behind him.
“If you answer me truthfully, you will be rewarded. If you don’t…” She used a pause to splendid effect. “You will be punished. Do you understand?”
He twisted his head, wanting to see her eyes. “Yes?—”
“Keep your hands on the rope.” Her reply was crisp. “If you let go, the game ends.”
He tightened his grip.
“First question.” She brought her lips to his left ear, and he shuddered at the warm caress of her breath. At her words, which only he could hear. “Did you betray me with Eleni?”
Easy.
“No,” he said firmly.
Lottie went in front of him and studied him keenly. She rapped the handle of the crop against her palm, thetap tap tapaccelerating his pulse. Would she believe him? He didn’t care if she flogged him—maybe with her, he would even like it—but he realized with sudden clarity that her distrust would destroy his denial.
His helpless fantasy that somehow, some way, he could win his wife back. That, despite everything, she would give him another chance. Even when he had no right to ask for one. Even when it might compromise his mission. Even when it was wrong of him to consider the possibility of endangering her—when that was the reason he’d left her in the first place.
But Lottie is different now. Stronger and more formidable. She always had the mettle of Athena, but now she has the wisdom—the control and confidence—too. Maybe she could handle what I do…who I truly am.
Her eyes were still stormy, but perhaps there was a hint of warmth. Like the sun veiled by thunderclouds. And relief flooded him.
She believes me. Even after everything.
She leaned in, and his mouth watered at having the slender column of her neck so close, just on the other side of the net. He remembered all the times he’d nuzzled the groove above her collarbone, tasting her skin. He nosed the rope, sniffing hungrily for her scent, and his cock did the same, stretching eagerly toward her.
When she wrapped her free hand around his shaft, a guttural sound raked up his throat. From the moment she’d touched him, she had ruined him for anyone else, and it was no different now. Her satin-covered fingers worked his straining rod. She pumped him once, twice, enough to make him pant and thrust his hips into her pretty fist. Then she let go.
“Is that supposed to be a reward?” he managed.
Her lips curved. Then she leaned toward him, her next question feather-soft against his ear.
“Is your interest in Xenia Loveday personal?”
He hesitated. Lives depended upon his ability to keep secrets. Yet he would not be divulging any information by answering Lottie’s simple question.
“No,” he said.
Lottie began frigging him again. This time she cupped his stones, squeezing the weights that swelled in her palm until he groaned. She milked him to the tip, drawing forth wetness that she thumbed over his sensitive head. Fire danced along his spine as she stroked his cock, the roughness of the rope against his bollocks making him even hotter. He thrust his hips…only to find himself fucking air yet again.
He let out an oath of frustration.
Lottie tilted her head. “Ready for your final question?”
“Bloody right I am. And if I give you the truth, you’ll finish me off…”—he recalled himself enough to push through his clenched teeth—“…ma’am.”
She smiled like a cat, then pounced, depositing a hushed query in his ear.
“Are you a spy?”
Bloody hell, she knows…or she’s guessed, anyway.
