“I’m not feeling very gentle right now.”
She grinned with a little shrug. “Whose fault is that?”
“Yours.”
Her smile widened as she slid one strap off her shoulder and then the other and slowly, painfully slowly, slid it down her body and stepped out of it. He didn’t try to hide how much he was staring. She was perfect—fucking perfect.
She turned and hung the dress back up, giving him an excellent view of her ass so he was not complaining, and he decided it was time to catch up. When she turned backaround, his tie was undone, his shirt was unbuttoned, and he was unzipping his pants.
“Lay down,” he instructed, voice low and rough and just the tiniest bit frayed with nerves. He wasn’t used to this—he wasn’t used to wanting so much—or to feeling like he would do anything, sacrifice anything, just to get a little closer to her.
The room was small, but thankfully, the bed was king sized, covered in a dark blue quilt and with at least six unnecessary pillows. He never understood why women had so many pillows. The bedside tables didn’t match, but they each had a lamp that cast a soft, golden haze. The window was cracked open, letting in the sound of crickets and, somewhere distant, the muted bass thump of a passing car.
She did as he asked, crawling onto the bed and arranging herself like a queen on a velvet throne. The navy blanket beneath her fair skin, and the antique brass headboard framed her body in a way that made his brain short-circuit. She watched him as he approached, and if she was nervous, she didn’t let it show. Or maybe she did, because her hands trembled just a little as she rested them at her sides.
He kicked off his shoes and removed his shirt, pants, and boxer briefs, folded them, and laid them over the armchair then picked his tie back up, walked over and lowered down onto the mattress beside her. He took her hand in his, lifting it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. Then, gently, he guided her arm above her head, and did the same to her other wrist, his lips lingering for a beat as he felt her pulse hammering beneath the skin.
She looked up at him, eyes fluttering half-closed, and gave a little shiver when he ran his nose along her forearm.He lifted his tie above her head and watched her face as he did it, searching for a hint of fear, a no, a stop, but all he saw was anticipation, trust, and a wicked spark of excitement.
He looped the silk material around her wrists, wrapping the tie over and under, snug but not cruel, then cinched it against the headboard’s central bar. She watched him intently, her perfect breasts rising and falling as he wrapped the silky material around them tightly, pulling it together, then securing it to the brass headboard. He tugged, making sure that she couldn’t move her arms.
Her fingers flexed, testing the give. He kissed her again, softer this time, his mouth lingering at the corner of hers. “Okay?” he asked, his breath uneven.
She grinned up at him, her voice bold and bright and so Jenna it made him ache. “If you’re asking for consent, you’ve got it.”
He started with her lips, then her jaw, then her throat, each kiss felt like a tiny confession, a relinquishing of every defense he’d ever built. He mapped every centimeter of her flesh as if he needed to memorize it before it was taken away, her collarbones, the sloping curve of her shoulder, and the place behind her ear where her pulse fluttered like a secret. He kissed her breasts like he was starving, sucking the nipples so hard she whimpered, then kept kissing her until the urgency dissolved into a dizzying sweetness, her back arching and offering him more. He loved how responsive she was, every gasp, every quiver, every impatient push of her hips seemed to give him permission to continue, and he was greedy for every last particle of her.
Sliding lower, he kissed the gentle swell beneath her breasts, down her belly, his hands stroking her sides. He took his time, teasing his way down the line of herhipbone, dipping his tongue into the hollow above her pelvis. She was so gorgeous, laid out beneath him, it was almost more than he could process all at once. He wanted her wild and boneless, wanted to dissolve every line between fantasy and reality, wanted to devastate her and then gather her into his arms, whole and safe.
He kissed her thighs, alternately gentle and rough, leaving faint marks that would fade but for now made her moan his name, and then finally, finally, he slipped his tongue between her legs. She bucked, almost sobbing with relief, and he spread her wider, hooking her knees over his shoulders so he could reach from every conceivable angle. He licked her the way he’d imagined in every idle fantasy, in every sleepless night since the first night they’d spent together, tasting her, teasing the swollen bundle of nerves until she was shivering close to the edge once again, clutching at the tie, causing the headboard to shake against the wall.
But he didn’t let her go over that edge, not even when she started to beg. He took her to it once, then twice, but then pulled back to tease her, to kiss her softly, and to breathe hot air over her sex so she had to writhe and plead and offer herself up even more completely. He’d never felt so completely in control, or so completely out of his depth, because the way she responded to him wasn’t like any other woman. Every sound, every tremor, felt so real and unguarded it was almost terrifying, and he realized that what he was doing wasn’t just fucking her, it was undoing her, unmaking her, and simultaneously making her his. But he still wanted more.
As she panted, her voice whimpering, pleading, he flipped her over, so she was laying on her front, her wrists still bound above her head. He worked down her legs, kissing the backs of her knees, and up her calves, trailinghis tongue up the strong sweep of her thigh, licking and biting as he climbed.
He moved up to her neck, her shoulders, then down her back till he got to her lower back. There, just above the tailbone, was a faint shimmer he recognized instantly. “I found it,” he said, pressing a kiss just above the faintest scent, like a secret only he knew.
“What?” she asked in labored pants.
“The perfume, it’s on the small of your back.”
“Oh, yeah.” He couldn’t see her face, but he heard her smile. “I forgot.”
“I didn’t.”
Knowing she’d followed his instruction. That she’d sprayed the perfume he got her on her lower back just for him to find made him feel a surge of possessiveness. His hands gripped her ass, squeezing her firm, round cheeks. A groan ripped from his chest as he spread her apart, exposing her and tilting her hips up so he could taste her from behind.
She arched up into him, desperate and shameless, and he devoured her. She pushed her hips back against his mouth, seeking her pleasure as he licked her and drove his tongue inside of her.
He could feel her body clenching around his tongue, but he didn’t want her to come like this. So again, he took her to the brink and then backed away, licking the crevice between her ass cheeks, paying special attention to her puckered hole. Her body instantly tensed when his tongue flicked over that sensitive area, and she gasped.
With one hand holding her hips in place, keeping her tilted up, exposed to him, he used the other to slide between her upper thighs. He ran his fingers up and down her seam, massaging her sex, teasing her clit as his tongue licked her most forbidden place. Her arousal coated hisfingers with each pass of his touch as her sex pulsed against him.
She writhed beneath him, her entire body trembling as she buried her face into the pillow, begging for release. He knew she was close, and his own body was taut and trembling with anticipation, his arousal undeniable. Not able to deny either of them any longer, he stood and retrieved a condom, sheathing himself with trembling hands. As he did, she looked back at him, tied and utterly at his mercy, and all he saw was trust and need and hunger.
He climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself behind her, and ran his hands up the back of her thighs, her ass, her waist, up to the tie to remind her that she could pull free at point. “Okay?” he asked, his voice shredded.
She didn’t speak, just nodded, face pressed into the pillow. He kissed her neck, and she twisted beneath him, trying to get even closer, and he was done pretending he could control himself.
