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Sebastian’s eyes follow the movement before coming back to rest on my lace-covered breasts.
If I was a different woman, I’d probably be able to tease him here. To put on a show that would make him burn even hotter. But I’m not that kind of woman, and though I think I’d like to be, for now all I can do is unfasten my bra and let it slip to the thick carpet as well.
He still doesn’t say anything, doesn’t reach for me, though his hands tighten on the belt, drawing it even tauter. My sex clenches at the sight and I want to reach for him, for the belt.
The knowledge throws me off and my hands falter at the waistband of my skirt. Suddenly it’s like my fingers don’t work—like they’ve forgotten how to work a button, how to lower a zipper.
“Leave it,” Sebastian tells me, his voice all smoky gravel and midnight promises.
The tone has my hands dropping instantly to my side, even as I nervously pleat my skirt between my fingers.
And then Sebastian is there, prying my fingers from the material. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, leaning down so his breath is hot against my cheek.
It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to moan at the contact. And when his hand—with the belt still wrapped around it—skims lightly over my breast, my knees actually tremble.
He smiles at me, then, a deliciously dark thing that lights me up from the inside and has every one of my nerve endings sizzling with want. With need.
Slowly, so slowly, he slides the cool leather down my arm, across my stomach, over my breasts. For a second, just a second, he brushes the belt against my throat and a frisson of fear runs through me. It’s the good kind of fear, though, the kind that has my skin stretching tight and my every sense on hyper-alert.
And then the leather is gone just as quickly and I’m left to relax—or maybe just sag with disappointment. Right now, with a million different sensations running through me, it’s so hard to tell.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
My mouth runs dry at the order, and at the tone it’s delivered in. But I do as Sebastian says, sliding my arms behind my back and loosely clasping my right wrist with my left hand.
Once I do that, Sebastian walks behind me and gently pries my grip loose. And then he winds the belt around first one wrist and then the other, again and again, until the belt is wrapped completely around me. Then he re-fastens the buckle.
Instinctively, I try to get my hands apart, but I’m fastened tightly. A shiver of fear slinks through me, but it’s overshadowed by the desire that’s burning inside of me. It’s a startling realization, because no matter what I said earlier, I thought I was doing this for him. To show Sebastian that I’m not afraid of him, that I want what he wants. Which is the truth.
But it’s more than that. Being tied up by Sebastian excites me.
Wondering what he’s going to do next excites me.
Turning my body over to him to do with it what he wants excites me.
Honestly, it turns me on more than anything ever has. More than—
He tugs on the belt, hard, pulling my shoulder blades down and dragging my attention back to the present. Back to him. As if I could ever ignore him for more than few seconds.
“Comfortable?” he asks, after he’s sure my attention is back on him.
I’m not exactly sure comfortable is the word to describe the need clawing at my insides. But all I say is “Yes.”
“Good.”
And then he’s pressing his hands down on my shoulders, not hard enough to hurt but with enough purpose that I get the message. Bending my already shaky knees, I lower myself slowly, clumsily, to the ground.
And wait for whatever instruction Sebastian wants to give me next.
Chapter Five
Sebastian
Shit, Fuck. Damn. I thought I was prepared for this. Thought I had this whole meeting all mapped out. Never in my wildest fantasies did I think it would include Aria all but offering herself to me on a silver platter, any way that I want her.
What a joke that is. Because the truth is, I’ll take her any way I can get her. Take whatever small crumb she wants to offer me, especially after the way I screwed up with her last time. I figured I’d have to grovel—after what I did to her the last time we were together, it’s no more than I deserve. And instead, here she is, tied up and kneeling before me, offering me anything, everything. It’s so much more than I deserve, too much more, especially when all I want is her.
But I’m not a fool and there’s no way I’m turning her away now. Not when she’s half-naked and pliant in front of me. Not when I can see by the floaty look in her eye that she’s already halfway to subspace. I want to take her the rest of the way, want to see her eyes fade out and her gorgeous skin flush with pleasure. I want to make her come, again and again and again, until there is no her, no me, only the ecstasy that stretches between us.
