‘And you will call for me if they come to you when you’re alone? Or send Sir Robin. Surely he’ll put aside his dislike for me if you’re in danger.’
Clio’s smile stole his breath. ‘He doesn’t dislike you. He just likes provoking you.’
‘A trait you both share.’
Her amber eyes danced with mischief. ‘Perhaps. Now will you hold to your promise? You spoke of conflagration, but I am not burning yet.’
Damn her for being so impossible to resist.
‘I have always prided myself on being a man of my word.’ He let go of her wrists and pushed himself up. Slowly, with lazy intent, he dragged his hands down her body, caressing the curve of her breasts without letting himself play with her nipples. Not yet. He bumped over her ribs and feathered over the slashes on her abdomen, willing her body to feel pleasure where once she endured pain. He enjoyed the flare of her hips before pausing as his thumb reached the birthmark on her inner thigh.
‘What have we here?’
Clio clamped her legs together instinctively.
‘Show me.’ He forced command into his voice.
Hesitation created a crease between her brows. Slowly, she relaxed her legs and let them fall open, showing him more than just the strawberry-coloured star high on her inner thigh. Pink lips peeked from the nest of black maidenhair, wet and glistening.
‘Beautiful.’ The word couldn’t possibly encompass the fullness of her magnificence, but it was all he could manage.
She arched her back, a silent offering of something more precious than all the Queen’s vast riches. He pushed off the bed, needing distance if he was going to maintain his control. Stepping back, he tried to memorise her in this moment, an image he could take with him always.
Clio’s breasts were full and delightfully belled. Her creamy skin contrasted against dark cherry nipples. His cock pulsed painfully as she pulled herself further back on the bed, her breasts jostling with the movement. This must be a new level of self-torture, and he was ready to revel in it until the pain became pleasure.
‘Do you like what you see?’ Her low voice nearly broke him.
‘You are perfect.’
Pale skin flushed rose.
He still had the leather straps in his hand. He smacked them hard against his thigh, needing the sharp bite of pain to help him focus. Clio jumped at the loud thwack, her eyes growing wide as she focused on his leg.
‘One day, perhaps we can experiment with spanking. I bet your bottom would turn such a delicious shade of rose.’
Clio bit her lip as the candle next to her flared.
‘Would you like that?’
She inhaled, her ribs pressing delicately against her skin, and then nodded. ‘Does that make me wanton?’
His lips curled in a knowing smile. ‘No. It makes you undeniably, irrevocably, and absolutely wicked. But I recently learned wicked women have the best tricks and the most fun.’
Her breathy laughter eased some of the tension growing between them.
‘But I don’t think we’ll explore that today.’
Thomas didn’t miss the flash of disappointment before she nodded in agreement.
Dear God. Her tastes run as dark as my own. A miracle. And a tragedy.
It was a cruel twist of fate to give him such a perfect partner when there was no way to take their relationship any further than the fortnight they shared at Blackthorn Manor. But he would not think of that now. The only moment that mattered was this one. Ifhe only had these fleeting fragments of time with Clio, he would not waste any of them on regrets. He had the rest of his bleak life for that.
‘Hands over your head.’
Clio complied, the movement doing fascinating things to her breasts. Thomas walked to the bed, running his hand along the sensitive underside of her arm, over the crease of her elbow, to her wrist. He focused on his task, wrapping one length of the leather around her and quickly tying it to the headboard. He moved to the other side, mirroring his actions with her left wrist. As he tested the knot, he trailed his hand back down her arm. When his fingers brushed over the soft hair at her armpit, she tightened, trying to pull away.
‘Ahhhh. You’re ticklish.’ A bubble of joy burst in his belly.
