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“Please help me off with my jacket.”
She walked behind him and thought that performing the act might be awkward, but instead it was easy, part of the dominance he was using to define their roles.
“It goes in the closet.” He pointed. “On the valet.”
She’d seen that type of wooden structure in magazine ads and on designer television shows, and until now she hadn’t been sure what it was called. It had a shelf for his personal effects, a drawer for storage, and a couple of hooks, perhaps for a tie and a belt.
On the side wall, he had a vault. And there was a wooden panel that might have resembled a wardrobe, except for the fact it was built into the wall. The large luxurious walk-in closet smelled of leather and pulsed with masculine power. His organization was meticulous. His suits and shirts were arranged by color. Next came casual wear, khaki pants and polo shirts. Sports shirts and shorts were folded on shelves. She supposed it made him more efficient, but part of her yearned to mess up his life, even a little bit.
“Stalling won’t save you,” he called out.
Hope gripped the material tighter, so she didn’t drop it. “Coming!” She draped the jacket over the back of the valet on the piece of wood curved to resemble a hanger, then smoothed the wrinkles from the fabric. There was no reason to be scared of what would come next. Who am I kidding?
When she returned to him, his smile of appreciation was the encouragement she needed.
“Undo my tie.”
“I’m not sure where to begin.”
“You’ll figure it out. The more you struggle, the more I’ll enjoy it.”
She stretched to reach the knot, and getting so close to him caused her tender nipples to brush against his shirt. He filled her vision, swamped her senses. If this kind of arousal was constant in BDSM, she wasn’t sure she could bear it.
Hope worked the knot free.
“Take it all the way off.”
“Should I put it away?”
“No. Offer it to me, then turn around and place your hands behind you.” He held her gaze. “Tell me you understand.”
This was her first experience with bondage, and her pulse fluttered. “Yes, Rafe.” The words were magic, making her want to obey.
Hope pulled his tie free. A primitive instinct compelled her to fold it in half, then in quarters, before extending it toward him.
“You’re a natural.”
She turned, expectation spiking in her blood, and laced her fingers at the small of her back, waiting.
With perfunctory movements, he wound the silk around her wrists. “How’s that?”
It wasn’t tight enough to cut off her circulation, but there was no give in the fabric, making her aware of his power.
“I want you to use your colors if you’re frightened too much.” He feathered the words against her ear.
“You’re planning to scare me?”
“Oh, yes. The exact amount.” His breath was warm on her skin, and tiny goose bumps dotted her arms. “Some fear is good for you, sweet Hope. It will keep you in line.”
And if it doesn’t? A sense of preservation kept her from challenging him aloud.
He swept her from her feet to carry her to the bed. He laid her on her back, her hands still fastened, imprisoned beneath her.
Her mouth dried as he crossed to the closet. He returned less than a minute later, carrying two things, a thin paddle and leather-thonged implement she recognized as a flogger.
“This one is for beginners.”
If that was true, she didn’t want to see the advanced version. The fear he had mentioned chilled her.
“The falls are wide, so it’s going to be a thuddy sensation.” He picked up the handle. He held the flogger above her chest, the angled tips skimming her skin. Watching her reaction, he danced the leather over her breasts, the light touch awakening her nerve endings. Her nipples became even tighter, and she drew her shoulder blades toward each other, trying to arch.
He moved lower, across her ribs, down her torso. Without being told, she spread her legs for him.
“Sweet, sweet Hope.” Avoiding her cunt, he gave her legs and inner thighs leather caresses.
“Please.” She wanted the whole experience.
He moved his wrist, then flicked the strands between her legs.
