"I've had years of practice hiding desires," he drew the garment away, exposing my breasts to the cool air. "But that doesn't mean they weren't there."
His hands moved to cup my breasts, his touch gentle but purposeful as he explored their weight and shape. When his thumbs brushed across my nipples, I arched into the contact, a small moan escaping me.
"Sensitive," he noted with academic interest, though his darkened eyes betrayed his arousal. "Let's see how you respond to this."
He lowered his head, replacing one hand with his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue against my nipple sent pleasure shooting straight to my clit. I gasped, my hands instinctively moving to tangle in his silver-blond hair.
Fenric immediately pulled back, pinning my hands to the mattress on either side of my head. "What did I say about hands?" His voice was low with warning.
"Sorry," I whimpered, frustrated and aroused in equal measure.
"Don't make me restrain you," he threatened, though the way his eyes darkened suggested it wasn't entirely a threat.
The idea sent another pulse of heat through me, the blue markings flaring brighter in response. "Maybe I want you to," I challenged, curious to see how far his control extended.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, followed by something darker, more primal. "Is that what you want, Winter? To be completely at my mercy?"
The way he said it, with such precise intensity, made me shiver. "Yes," I surprised myself with how much I meant it.
Without another word, Fenric reached for his discarded shirt. With efficient movements, he wrapped the fabric aroundmy wrists, binding them together before securing them to the headboard with a knot that was both comfortable and inescapable.
"Bureau training includes restraint techniques," he grinned at my questioning look. "Though this particular application was not covered in the manual."
I tested the bonds, finding them secure but not painfully tight. "You're full of surprises tonight."
"You have no idea," his voice dropped lower as his hands skimmed down my sides to the waistband of my underwear. "I'm going to take my time with you, Winter. I've waited too long to rush this."
He peeled my underwear down my legs with tantalizing slowness, his eyes drinking in every inch of exposed skin. When I was finally naked before him, he sat back, simply looking at me with an intensity that made me squirm.
"Beautiful. Even the parts you think aren't. Especially those."
His hands started at my ankles, stroking upward with deliberate pressure. When he reached my knees, he lingered at the damaged one, pressed a gentle kiss to the scarred tissue there.
"This too," he insisted. "Every part of you is extraordinary."
The tenderness of the gesture brought unexpected tears to my eyes. Fenric continued his journey upward, his hands tracing the contours of my thighs, moving ever closer to where I ached for him. Just when I thought he would finally touch me where I needed it most, he diverted, skimming around to stroke my hipbones instead.
"Fenric," I couldn't keep the pleading note from my voice.
"Patience. We're going to do this properly."
His methodical exploration continued, hands and mouth mapping every inch of my body except where I desperatelywanted them. By the time his fingers finally brushed against my pussy, I was trembling with need.
"Already so wet," he observed, a note of satisfaction in his voice as his fingers gently parted me. "Responsive to even the simplest touch."
He stroked lightly, circling but never quite touching my clit that throbbed for attention. Each almost-contact drew a gasp or whimper from me, my hips instinctively rising to seek more pressure.
"Please," I finally begged as he withdrew his hand entirely. "Don't tease."
"But I excel at teasing," the hint of a smile curved his lips. "And you respond so beautifully to it."
He lowered his head then, replacing his hand with his mouth. The first broad stroke of his tongue against me had me crying out, my bound hands tugging uselessly at their restraints. Fenric approached this task with the same meticulous attention he gave to everything, cataloging my responses to each variation in pressure and pattern.
When he found a rhythm that had me trembling on the edge, he deliberately slowed, drawing back to place kisses on my inner thighs instead. The denial was exquisite torture, bringing me to the brink only to ease me back down again.
"Fenric, please," I gasped as he brought me to the edge for the third time, only to retreat again. "I need to come."
He looked up at me, his silver-blue eyes dark with desire. "Not yet," his voice was commanding yet gentle. "You'll come when I decide you're ready, not before."
