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He took the special cream to prevent stretch marks from the dresser. Without removing his arms from around her, he squirted the lotion into his palm, and massaged it into her abdomen. She studied his face in the reflection of the mirror. The lines cutting from his nose to his mouth were deep, giving him that beautifully sculptured look of etched perfection. His cheekbones were high and his nose straight. The ponytail he drew his hair into emphasized his bone structure. He’d make a perfect model for a sculpturer.
Lann was sophisticated, cultured, romantic, and dominant, especially when it came to lovemaking. She clenched her knees together at the thought. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t shy about telling her exactly what he expected, always encouraging her to do the same.
He kissed her neck. “What are you thinking?”
“How skilled you are in bed, and that we haven’t done some kinky things in a while.”
He rewarded her for the compliment by rubbing his palms over her breasts. Her nipples hardened under his touch.
“And?” he said, rolling the tips gently.
“Will you ever cut your hair?”
“Cut my hair?” He nipped at her earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine. “Why? Do you want me to?”
“No,” she said quickly, “I like it long.”
“Why?” He drew a pattern with his tongue on her neck.
“It gives you a sexy, arty kind of look. Or maybe geeky.”
He bit down softly.
“Ouch!” Even though the nip of his teeth had sent heat straight to her clit, she glared at him. “That was a compliment.”
He cupped her sex. “That I’m geeky?”
“You’re like a dandy gadget wiz with a hidden dark side.”
He slid two fingers through her folds. The sudden invasion made her gasp.
“Keep on insulting me,” he purred, “and I’ll have to keep on punishing you.”
She enjoyed the game. She could live up to the challenge. “You’re also a romantic who collects old books and loves poetry.”
He pumped in and out slowly.
“You’re a sadist,” she complained.
He kissed the top of her spine. “Am I now?”
“You’ve always enjoyed using sex as an instrument of torture against me.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Yes,” she said on an exhale of air.
Turning her gently, he crashed their mouths together. It was a hard and desperate kiss, all the tender passion of earlier going up in flames. He sucked the air from her lungs until she had to push on his shoulders for distance. He allowed her to breathe, but only for a second before devouring her lips again.
By the time he released her, she was panting and her heart beating furiously. “Lann, the baby—”
He scooped her up and stared down at her. “I won’t do anything that’ll harm him or you. Do you trust me?”
“I do,” she whispered.
Emotions flickered across his face. “You don’t know how much it means to me.”
He carried her to the bed and laid her down gently. Next, he went to the armoire and returned with silk scarves.
At the sight of the scarves, her cheeks turned hot. “Are you going to satisfy my fantasy?”
Gripping a wrist, he tied it to the bedpost. “You conjured images in my mind with your words.” He made quick work of binding the other wrist. “You’re going to get exactly what you asked for.”
She shivered in anticipation as he spread her legs and tied her ankles too.
When he was done, he stood back to admire his work. “Not too tight?”
Not trusting her voice to speak, she shook her head. She was exposed, vulnerable, and turned on. She trusted him not only with her body, but also with her heart.
He undressed quickly, discarding his clothes in a heap on the floor. The muscles of his lean body flexed as he approached the bed. “I’m not done yet.”
He selected another scarf from the collection on the bed. “I’m going to blindfold and gag you.” Her eyes widened, but he cupped her cheek in a tender, reassuring gesture. “You trust me, remember?”
When he arched his brow, indicating that he expected a confirmation, she nodded.
“Good girl.” He lifted her neck with one hand while winding the scarf around her head with the other. He worked with swift movements until her eyes were covered.
With her sight gone, her focus on sound was amplified. His voice was thick with lust. “Now your mouth. You won’t be able to speak, but you will trust me. I won’t hurt or harm you.”
She lay quietly while he placed soft fabric in her mouth, and secured it with cloth that he tied behind her head. Unable to see, speak, or move, she had to give herself over to the sensations of touch and the sounds in the room.
The bed dipped. A drawer opened. A moment later, he straddled her. Something warm and wet flicked over her breast. His tongue. She arched her back, needing a more profound touch, and he obliged by sucking her nipple into his mouth and grazing the tip with his teeth.
