“Very good.” He stepped back and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it away without even looking where it landed. Then he untied and unwound his cravat. He looked like he was going to tug off the dangling edges of it and toss it aside, too, but then he looked at her, sprawled at the edge of his bed, dress still up around her hips, and he chuckled.
“May I tie you up, Etta? So you can truly give over to me?”
Her lips parted. Perhaps she should have been afraid of that idea, of allowing him such great power. But instead she was aroused. She nodded.
He tugged her to a seated position and reached around her back to unbutton her gown. Together they slipped it from her arms and she lifted her hips as he removed it from her body. Her short chemise was next. He tugged it over her head and threw it where his jacket had landed. That left her in just her stockings, her slippers.
When she moved to unfasten the garter, he shook his head. “Just the slippers.”
He tugged off one, then the other, and they clattered with the rest in a disorganized pile. He smiled at her, naked, and motioned to her on the bed. “Move to the pillows, please.”
She scooted over so she was resting in a normal angle on the bed. He finally slipped the silky cravat from around his neck and set it on the foot of the bed, then unfastened and pulled off his shirt. She felt her breath shift at the sight of him half naked again. It was really unfair how beautiful he was.
He swept up the cravat again as he put his knee on the bed and crawled up the length of her body. He pressed his mouth along the lines of her skin as he went. His tongue skimmed her knee, his stubbled cheek brushed her inner thigh. He paused between her legs, pushing her wider and gave a few languid licks of her sex.
She lifted against him with a cry she couldn’t hold back and he looked up at her, slowing his tongue, teasing for a few moments more. Then he was on the move again, his fingers gripping her hips as he kissed the line of her pelvic bone. He nuzzled her stomach, then up between her breasts. Once again he paused and licked and sucked her nipples for a moment until her moans filled the air around him.
He started to move upward again, kissing her neck, her cheek, her ear. But not her lips. Instead he pushed up on his knees, and with swift efficiency she had to believe was born of practice, he wrapped one end of the cravat around one wrist, then pulled the length around a space in the headboard of the big bed. Her hand lifted above her head while he tied her other wrist the same way. The binds weren’t tight, weren’t uncomfortable, but when she tugged, they didn’t move. She was trapped and he looked down at her like she was the dessert they had skipped to come to this room.
“This is just too perfect,” he all but purred. “You are gorgeous like this, you know. Naked and spread out for a feast.”
She shifted. A feast sounded very nice. She pulled against the bonds again and he clicked his tongue. “Now, now. You are tied up so that you don’t feel compelled to try to run things. Just…surrender.”
As he said it, he got off the bed and took his boots off, then his trousers. She stared at his already-hard cock, though this time she felt no fear in what he would do with it. All she wanted was to feel good and this man made her feel very good, indeed.
“Surrender,” he repeated, and she realized she was still pulling taut on the cravat.
Slowly she let out her breath and relaxed, resting on the pillows, watching his every move like a bunny would a wolf. Only she wanted to be caught. Devoured, as he’d just promised he would. As he’d started a moment ago.
“Moan for me,” he whispered while he moved back onto the bed and placed both hands on her calves. His fingers stroked along her skin, nails abrading lightly and sending electric awareness through her every nerve ending. She did as he’d demanded without hesitation, she moaned and his pupils dilated.
“Yes,” he grunted. “Again, Etta.”
Now he slid his hands higher, massaging her thighs, letting his thumbs smooth at the place where her bare skin met the pretty tied garters. How could that feel so thrilling?
She let out another moan and his pupils dilated. “Now come for me,” he ordered, and dropped his mouth between her legs.
She cried out at the sudden stimulation between her legs. Where a moment ago he had teased, now he seemed focused and serious in every lick. He stroked her clitoris over and over, just the perfect pressure, just the right spot. She found herself tugging on the cravat again, this time because she wanted to put her hands in his hair. To touch him.
But she couldn’t. She was at his mercy. That fact made her moan again as the sensation increased. She lifted her hips against him, grinding and reaching for the pleasure she felt just out of reach. It was building with every focused suck and lick, with every stroke of his hands against her thighs to hold her steady. He looked up at her as he licked, his dark blue eyes holding hers, filled with desire and pleasure and promises of what he could do if she just let him.
So she did, and when she surrendered, fully gave in, stopped thinking and only felt, that was when the sensation hit its peak. This time it was even more powerful. Long, hard waves of pleasure ripped through her, making her back arch, making her breathe hard, making her moan just as he’d told her to do.
He let her ride that pleasure for a few moments, increasing the pace of his tongue, keeping her hostage to release. But before the sensations faded, he rose to his knees and tore in half the cravat that bound her hands. She reached for him, but he didn’t allow it, instead cupping her hips and flipping her over on her stomach in one sure movement.
He lifted her hips so she was on her hands and knees and then speared her with his cock. She gripped the pillows as the orgasm that still quaked through her intensified. She rippled around his hard cock as he took her just as he’d promised: hard and fast and rough.
And she loved it. Loved how he moaned and grunted in time to her own cries, loved the sound of their bodies slapping together. Loved how he held her so tightly that she knew she’d have finger bruises. He let go of control the same way she’d let go, and as she arched beneath him, he threw back his head and hissed out her name before he withdrew from her body and came against her back.
She expected him to flop over her, cover her with his heat and his power. Instead he turned her on her back once more and leaned down to lick her a few more times. She moaned with the unexpected attention, which sparked the remainder of her twitching release. At last, he licked one last long time and then moved to tug her against his chest.
She clung to him, their ragged breath matching in the quiet. When she could somehow speak again, she looked up at him. “Why did you do that?”
He shook his head. “Which part? Was there something you didn’t like?”
His concern was plain on his face and she reached up to cup his cheek in reassurance. “No, I loved all of it. I meant…why did you go back to lick me after you were…finished?”
“Oh, that,” he said with a faint smile. “I wanted to taste your pleasure, Etta.”
