“I’m already wet for you,” she whispered.
His hands tightened on her wrists before his head turned, and his fiery eyes met hers. Willow’s breath sucked in as excitement and apprehension ran through her. Her toes curled in her boots as he stared at her before smiling.
“You do love to play with fire,” he murmured.
“I’m curious how hot it will burn.”
“You’re going to find out.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Declan kepther wrists pinned with one of his hands and released her with the other. She’d been expecting a passionate and fast taking like last night; instead, his fingers skimmed down her cheek to her chin and brushed against the front of her shirt.
Eager to feel his hands on her, she squirmed in the chair, but he didn’t touch her as he slowly unbuttoned the navy shirt she’d borrowed from Gretchen after escaping the attic. Willow followed his movements as he made his way steadily lower. When he freed the last button, he pulled apart the sides and leaned back to gaze at her.
One of her breasts still bore the bite mark he’d left on it last night. His hand rose toward it, but he didn’t touch her as his finger traced the air over the bite mark. Willow held her breath as she waited for him to caress her. However, his hand remained so close yet so far away in a frustrating manner that left her breathless for more while she resisted kicking him.
Why didn’t he touch her? She was desperate to feel his hands on her, desperate for him to put her out of this misery.
“You have a truly delectable body,” he murmured.
“Then why aren’t you touching it?”
The smile he gave her only increased her kicking urge.
“Because there is pleasure in the waiting,” he said.
She completely disagreed, but there was something so erotic about this that she was curious to see what else he would do. No matter how starved she was for his touch, a part of her didn’t want this to end. She’d never experienced anything like it before.
“I’m going to let go of your wrists, but don’t lower your hands,” he said. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
To her dismay, he released her and walked away. When she heard him rustling through some of Cheryl’s craft drawers, she almost turned to see what he was doing but refrained, because she was more curious about what was coming next and didn’t want to spoil it.
When Declan returned, he held a couple pieces of black cloth in his hands. They dangled from his fingers as he held them up for her to inspect.
“Will you let me bind your hands?” he asked.
“Yes.” Willow was a little surprised by the ease with which the word slipped free.
Declan smiled as he wrapped one of them around her wrists and pulled her hands up the back of the chair until her fingers were in the air. He tied the other end of the cloth around one of the legs.
“Does that feel okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Declan held up the other piece of cloth, and leaning over her, he wrapped the velvety material around her head, covering her eyes. With tender care, he tied it behind her head. Willow bit her lip as unease rose in her belly; she’d never been this vulnerable to someone before. She trusted him, but it was still a little unnerving to be exposed in such a way.
Willow’s uncertainty and excitement beat against him as he knelt to untie her boots. After centuries of honing his control, hewouldkeep himself restrained from easing the desire she emanated by taking her now.
Instead, he set one boot down and pulled off her sock before turning his attention to the other boot. Next, he undid the button on her jeans and pulled the zipper down.
He breathed in the scent of her arousal as she lifted her hips so he could tug the jeans down her legs before tossing them aside. Leaning back on his heels, he savored the sight of her. Mostly naked, she was beautiful in a way few others were as her beauty radiated from the inside out.
Resting his hands on the inside of her knees, he pushed her thighs apart to expose her sex to him. Her chest rose and fell a little faster as her scent permeated the air. When his fingers skimmed the inside of her thighs, she whimpered. He stilled his hands before her dark blonde curls; she lifted her hips toward him.
“When you were fucking yourself while thinking of me, was I doing this?” he asked as his finger grazed her wet center.
