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“Hmm.” She shook her head skeptically. “I think I just have a tendency to overshare.”
“Well, you answered my question anyway.” He uncoiled the rope. “I’m going to tie your hands, and we’re going to see how you feel about that, okay?”
“Why?”
“To see if you like rope, of course. I’m not tying you to anything, so you’ll be free to move around.”
When she nodded, he moved behind her.
“Would this be easier if my shirt was off?”
Jeez, was she trying to kill him?
“No. It would be prettier if your shirt was off, but I can bind your arms just fine while you’re wearing your T-shirt, if that’s what you’d prefer.”
“Would it be okay with you if I took it off?” She wasn’t playing a game. Her furrowed brow spoke of her uncertainty.
Fuck. Take your pants off, too, and sit on my aching cock while you’re at it.
“Whatever is most comfortable for you.”
Kate stared at him a moment before yanking her shirt off like it was driving her crazy. “Can I just . . .” She stepped closer and reached up, unbuttoning his shirt from his neck to his midchest. “That’s better.”
She really did seem to have a thing for suits.
Instead of stepping back, her fingers slid over the contour of muscle under his shirt. If she was trying to keep this all business, she was using the wrong approach.
“You, young lady, are driving me crazy.” He grabbed a handful of hair and pushed her onto the coffee table. “Kneel here. If you keep touching me like that, I’m going to assume you’re interested in more than training.”
“I’m sorry. I just—you’re good to look at.”
“So are you. Not turning this into sex is hard enough. Don’t be mean.”
She looked smug, not sorry.
Cock tease. She had a safeword, but he got the feeling that if he tried to turn this into sex she wouldn’t object. But she was the one who’d said no, so she was out of luck until she begged for it.
He moved behind her and tied her wrists together, then worked up her arms until she was immobilized to the elbow. Stepping back, he admired his work. So pretty. The curve of her cheek, the slope of her neck to her shoulder, the flawless skin, the look of rope on a helpless woman—all of it made him want her even more.
“Kneel straighter.” As he walked to stand in front of her, she straightened, her breasts pushing out at him impudently, the nipples hard and seeking his attention.
What he wouldn’t do for a camera. To him, this was far sexier than any porn, and she still had her pants on.
“Stay.” He walked back to the cabinet and sorted through the contents, then returned with an armload of sensation playthings.
“What’s all that? Is that a paintbrush?”
“It is.”
“Do I look like I need retouching? Is my paint flaking off?”
“Shut your sexy mouth before I shove something in it.”
She blinked at him. “Sorry.”
The paintbrush would be his starter, then, since it had her attention. With a gentle stroke, he flicked the tip of the brush over Kate’s skin, along her collarbone. Her breath caught, and she wriggled in place, then settled.
“People think of pain as the only sensation in kink, but there are so many others. Do you like being tickled?”
