Hell, no. And he probably shouldn’t even be suggesting it, but Annie had never been one to let others dictate her mores. “Do you care?”
Her mouth curved with a wickedness that should have concerned him. “No.”
She moved away from her position between his legs to secure the belt. Instinctively, he flexed against the bindings and felt the thin strip of leather biting into his wrists.
She’d done a damned fine job—too good a job. He didn’t think he could get his hands free if he wanted.
She must have read his mind, because as she came back around, her smile reminded him of a cat that Niall swore would smile when it caught a mouse.
“Now what?”
“You do whatever feels good. Whatever you want.”
Her temporary bravado seemed to have deserted her. She bit her lip uncertainly. “I might need some suggestions on where to begin.”
Niall wasn’t as experienced as she might think—especially on the subject of women pleasuring themselves without his touch—but he had some idea. “You could sit on my lap and straddle me like you might ride a horse.”
It took her a moment to figure out what he meant. Her eyes darted to the bulge in his pants, which had calmed a little but got hot fast enough with her eyes on him, and then back to his face. “You can…?”
He couldn’t suppress the groan that tore from his chest as the image of her riding him, sliding up and down on his cock faster and faster as she took her pleasure, sprang right to the front of his mind and wouldn’t go away. “Yes. There are many different ways to make love, Annie.”
And he wanted to show her every one of them.
That seemed to be all the invitation she needed. She lifted her skirts and climbed on top of him carefully so as to not tip the stool, but she needn’t have worried. His feet were like steel rods planted solidly in the ground. There was no way in hell he was going to miss this.
He cursed himself for the leather pants that prevented him from feeling her naked against him. But just knowing how little separated their flesh made him hard and throbbing. He groaned again at the sensation, at the feel of her weight on him as she grabbed his shoulders for balance and settled into his lap.
She had no idea how those little movements were driving him half-crazed with lust.
“The leather is cool,” she said. “But buttery soft.”
As if to prove her point, she innocently moved up and down on him. His arms flexed, instinctively straining at the constraint as another groan tore through him. This one deeper and heavier.
“That feels good,” she said, unable to hide her surprise. She sounded like a bairn who’d just discovered a new toy. She met his gaze. “You feel good.”
Niall’s next groan was smothered by her kiss.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Annie had never felt so wicked and sinful. But neither had she felt so powerful. It was as if she’d just been handed a potent weapon to wield on her own.
No, not on her own. Even with his hands tied behind his back and her setting the rhythm of their lovemaking, Niall surrounded her. Overwhelmed her with his heat and the force of his desire. But it didn’t frighten her.
Maybe it was because of his bound hands or maybe it was just because it was Niall, but it didn’t matter. Annie felt… desire. Real passion for this man whom she’d once loved with every piece of her heart.
She started slow. Letting the sensations gradually build from inside her, like the soft glow of a candle that is slowly fanned to a flame—and then to a fire. She felt it rising in her like a wave moving closer to the shore.
The feel of his mouth moving over hers, his tongue twining and twisting with hers in a hot, sensual dance…
It was making her weak and fierce at the same time. Her heart pounded, her breath raced, but her limbs softened. Turned fluid. Her bones dissolved.
She couldn’t seem to get close enough. The hands that braced against his shoulders drew around his neck to pull him closer.
Their chests touched.
He growled and she moaned at the sensation of her nipples tightening. Throbbing at the contact.
Contact wasn’t enough. She wanted to meld into him. Press and rub.
