Page 33 of Winter’s Fire

“Good. Are you happy with the new limits?” Loose tendrils of hair curled at her temple. He itched to coil the silky strands around his fingers

“Yes, Sir.”

Sweet words from a honey of a woman. The emotional maelstrom inside him swirled faster.

“Strip for me. Everything except the collar. Do it slowly.” With great reluctance and a last kiss, Logan released her and stepped back, to make himself comfortable on the sofa.

Watching her obey his instructions was nothing less than torture. She was living art in slow, sensual motion. So delicate, yet so strong. The complexity of Lucy Winter beguiled him. When she finally faced him fully naked, he doubted he’d ever get his fill of simply looking at her.

Ever?

He pushed the thought from his mind. There was no ever in this scenario, just a here and now, a moment to live in and nothing more.

Logan stepped back from the mental precipice to which his thoughts had led him. At some point he’d pay for taking this chance with Lucy, but not now. Not yet. He’d stick with the plan—make it good for her, and then return to the hell of his own making. Savouring each step, he approached her.

“Amazing. Thank you for indulging me.”

She clearly wasn’t expecting his gratitude, just as he wasn’t expecting how much he enjoyed surprising her.

“Aren’t you going to do the same?”

“You want me to strip for you? Hate to disappoint you, but it doesn’t work like that.”

“Because you’re in control.”

“Unless you take it back. Hold on.”

As he carried her to his bedroom, he was bombarded by a rush of different feelings—delight and joy to have her in his arms, but something less easy to define had lodged itself in his chest. Still, no time to analyse that now—taking care of Lucy took priority.

He set her down in the centre of his bed, exactly where she belonged. “Wait here.”

If this had been on his radar, he’d already have everything prepared—curtains closed, lights set low, and toys to hand. He pulled the bag out of the closet, and when he turned back to the bed, Lucy was lying on her side, watching him.

She was a gift he’d always cherish.

Back when he bought the bed, he’d had it customised for play as a form of punishment, a reminder of what he’d never experience in it, a metaphorical hair shirt he’d forced himself to wear every night, knowing he’d always be alone, payback for driving Sophia down the path of self-destruction.

“Do you trust me to keep you safe?”

Her gaze connected with his, infusing him with the strength he so admired in her. “I trust you, Sir.”

Her gentle words wrapped him in a healing balm and gave him the courage to continue. He opened the nightstand drawer and removed the cuffs. The leather was soft and supple, and an ideal fit for Lucy’s delicate wrist.

“Not too tight?” He ran his finger under the restraint.

“It’s perfect, Sir. Thank you.”

With the utmost care, he repeated the process with her other wrist. He closed his hands over the cuffs and pressed her wrists to the pillow above her head. “Keep your hands there and don’t move them until I give you permission.”

Bathed in the sweet radiance of her willingness to please, Logan felt something inside him stir for the first time since Sophia, something he’d thought had died with her. And being a man, his body responded too, with an erection harder than granite.

Lucy wasn’t unaffected, either. Her nipples, an enticing dusky pink, were already pebbled and in need of soothing—his mouth would seem ideal for the task. Unable to resist, he leaned down and took the nearest between his teeth. With the first nip, she gasped and arched towards him. He suckled, and she cried out in surrender.

Beneath his scrutiny, a wave of soft pink, like the first flush of dawn, swept over her. Her legs clamped together and her knees lifted, as if she were trying to hide from him.

“Oh no.” He stroked her thighs, soft skin over toned muscle, coaxed them gently apart. “When we play, you belong to me. That means full access. No hiding.”

Yet wasn’t that precisely what he was doing? This woman deserved so much more than a broken man. Logan would worship her, pleasure her, possess her and protect her, but he had no heart to give her.