A little taste. Now it’s your turn.
The thing starts to ring with an incoming face-to-face call.
‘Sweetheart.’ He sounds like he’s been running. ‘Cheer up. It’s not the end of the world.’
My cheeks heat at his cocky tone. ‘H-how could you just do that? Why?’ My tone is allwhat the fuck!
His eyes narrow almost infinitesimally, and I begin to think he’s pissed off, when he laughs a little; low and hard.
‘Maybe I’m just saving myself for the real thing. Can you use the stand?’
‘Wha—Oh.’ The tablet stand.
I set the thing on a pillow when he interrupts.
‘Between your legs. Position it so I can see your body.’ I swallow thickly, then reposition it until Kai tells me I’ve got it correct. For him, at least. My legs are open, my heels digging into the bed. I close my legs from knee to thigh, trying to feel less exposed.
‘That’s not going to work.’ His tone is quite flat. ‘And for what it’s worth, I can still see quite a bit. Quite a narrow focus,’ he says, quite sardonically. My legs shoot open, from shock more than anything else. ‘That’s better,’ he says softly. ‘A view I’ve dreamt about. Take the scarf, the ring and—’
‘The ring?’ I repeat. ‘Oh, bugger. I forgot to open the box.’
He laughs as I open its hinge. It’s a bit of a fashion statement, this ring. A silver band with a bar balanced across the top, a bar long enough to span the three middle fingers of my right hand. I know this, as Kai tells me to slip it on. Balanced on the bar is a row of pearls; the largest in the middle, their sizes becoming equally smaller on each side of the centre pearl.
‘Is this your idea of a joke again?’ I’m thinking back to my necklace and his smutty comments of his desire to cover me in pearls.Ropes of them,as I recall.
‘No joke, darling.’ His voice is rougher now. ‘Take the lube and squirt a little—’
‘Don’t think I need it,’ I mumble.
‘Take the lube,’ he says, now all awesome and growly. ‘Trail it down your middle from chest to mound.’
I bite my lip, quite literally, as I fight the urge to snigger as I loosen the lid.Mound. So not sexy.Then do as he says, shivering as the cold liquid meets my heated skin.
‘There,’ I say quietly, trailing a finger through the puddle that’s gathered at the base. When he doesn’t answer, I look up, his eyes a burning cognac-coloured glaze. And just as intoxicating.
‘It looks like someone’s shot their load down your front.’
Why aren’t I shocked? Why does this make my insides jump?
‘Why don’t you come home... You can—’
‘Come? All over you?’
Lips pursed together, I nod greedily.
‘I’ll hold you to that.’
‘Maybe you’ll need to.’
‘Maybe I’ll hold you down.’
I don’t have an answer, and his eyes follow the path of my fingersdown.
‘Stop.’ His voice is an octave lower, the word a definitive command. ‘The blindfold. Read what it says.’
‘I thought it was a scarf,’ I say, reaching across the bed, as I repeat, ‘Action is eloquence.’
‘Good girl.’ He smiles as he says this. It’s not a kind smile. He knows how I love and loathe the sentiment behind the endearment. ‘And a scarf is something to protect you against the elements, the same as a restraint is something to bind you to the idea of letting go. In this instance, my darling, a blindfold takes away your sight, increasing your pleasure tenfold.’
