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Placing my fingers under his chin, I forced him to look up at me. “That’s enough.”
Malcolm’s brows bunched. “I’m not done.”
I pursed my lips. “You’re done when I say you’re done.” I hoped my voice held the authority I searched to have. “Stand.”
He placed my foot back onto the floor and rose to full height. I needed him; everything in me screamed out with urgency to be connected with my husband.
The curly hairs on his chest prickled my finger as I ran it down the center. “Undress me.”
The command was met with a smile. “With pleasure.”
I swatted his hands and gave a tsking sound, accompanied with a finger wag. “What’s my name?”
His smile got bigger. “Mistress.”
Suppressing the moan I wanted to let out with the way that word rolled off his tongue damn near took an act of Congress. I wanted nothing more than to call it quits and let him do what he did best—make my body sing. With a deep breath and what I hoped was a sultry smirk, I dug deep to find my inner Domme.
“Good boy. But, as a punishment for forgetting, you can’t use your hands. Mouth only.” A saving grace that would hopefully help me stay in control a while longer.
He tilted his head, and his eyes roamed the length of
my body. When he met mine again, the lustful look he pinned me with was enough to turn me into a puddle.
“Yes, Mistress.”
Malcolm put his hands behind his back and then leaned forward. My breath caught in my throat when he lifted the zipper of my pleather body suit with his tongue. The shudder could not be stopped as he moved the closure down using only his teeth. It ended at my navel, which meant he now kneeled before me. He ran his nose along the exposed flesh on my abdomen and I realized my no hands rule presented a problem. How the hell could he get me out of this body-hugging outfit?
Before I could amend my command, my husband got back to his feet and circled behind me. An unauthorized kiss landed on my shoulder, followed by some skillful maneuvering that had me undressed to the waist with a little assistance from me. I’d always known he could work magic with his mouth, but this seriously impressed me.
As he stood in front of me, I could see he was just as impressed with himself, though the job remained half finished. Getting into this thing took shimmying and a few jumps. No way he could get it off the lower half with just his mouth. New plan.
I put my hands on my hips and tilted my head. I gave his body a long appreciative glance; my fingers tingled with the urge to touch him, all of him, everywhere. To trace each line along his abdomen. To run my tongue down the deep V that disappeared beneath the waistband of his Speedo. Which was being put to a stress test. A rush of want and need throbbed between my legs.
“Permission to use my hands, Mistress.”
“No.”
Not yet anyway. The slight brushes of his body against mine as he’d worked to get the top half down had been tiny fractures in my resolve. The moment the maestro put his hands on me all would be lost and this game would be over.
“On the bed. In the middle.”
His tongue rolled across his bottom lip. “Yes, Mistress.”
Shit! Hands or not, I wasn’t gonna last. When he turned to walk away, I couldn’t resist smacking his ass. He threw an air kiss over his shoulder. As he got settled, I peeled myself out of my outfit. My heart was in competition with a hummingbird at the rate it beat. In sheer white lace bra and thong, I stood, legs wide, hands on hips, and let him take in the sight of me. My nipples pressed against the fabric, tight and tingling, in urgent need of my husband’s attention.
“Fuck, baby. You’re so damned sexy.”
My entire body reacted to his statement and the tendrils of desire intensified. Remaining in character became more difficult with each passing moment.
I sauntered over to the bed. When I got close, Malcolm reached out for me. He was rewarded with another swat of his hand. “What did I say?”
He inhaled sharply and gritted his teeth. “No hands. Mistress.”
“I knew to be prepared for you to be a bad boy.”
I leaned down and pulled free a purple silk scarf. One end had already been tied around the wood frame of our bed. The other end was attached to the D-ring of the Velcro cuffs that came with the restraint system I’d ordered. I had to improvise, because moving our California king mattress to permanently attach the “easy-to-install” straps wasn’t so easy for me.
“Arm.”
