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Here goes everything.
Vicky showed him her back and shot him a look over her shoulder. “You’ll have to unlace my dress for me, sir.”
His eyes went molten silver as he stepped forward. “With pleasure.”
He took his time, caressing her with the sides of his fingers. The laces were more for show than anything else since the zipper’s thin panel of fabric hid her skin, but she’d found the concept sexy. When he finished, he walked around to face her.
Clearly he didn’t want to miss a minute of her peep show. Since she’d just played voyeur herself, she couldn’t say she blamed him.
She cupped her loosened dress to her chest before letting it slide down her body and pool at her feet. He didn’t make a sound at the sight of her in just her minuscule see-through bra and skyscraper heels, but his fingers flexed as she reached for the front clasp of her bra. One flick and that, too was on the floor. She’d bent to take off her shoes when his sharp command brought her up short.
“Leave them on.”
“Whatever spins your windmill.” Scooping up her clothes, she dropped them on top of his. Perspiration already sheened her skin, just from their mutual striptease.
At his silence, she glanced at him, expecting to see the familiar light in his eyes. But he wasn’t playing anymore. He hissed out a breath and grasped her breast, nearly making her lose her footing. His thumb flicked her beaded nipple while his eyes roamed her face. “You’re fucking beautiful.”
He scooped her up and laid her out on the table, shoving aside the candles and bowl of ice and tucking her head on the pillow with infinite care.
She looked around. “I can’t believe I’m on my dining room table. I eat here.”
His mouth quirked. “Believe me, so will I.”
To distract herself from blushing—and hopefully distract him from noticing—she squinted up at the light. He grabbed her patterned scarf off one of the chairs, tossing it over the chandelier so that the light bled through the vibrant reds and blues.
“Better?”
“Much.”
He loosened her hair from its pins and ran his fingers through the long strands. “Hair ties on the dresser, too?”
Already he sounded breathless, and as excited as the thick cock she’d felt pressed against her bottom indicated.
She craned her neck to get a better look, but he tipped her chin up and gazed into her eyes from above. “Don’t look at me unless I tell you to. Okay?”
That question tacked on the end smoothed out all her arguments. “Okay. Yes, they’re on the dresser.”
He disappeared again, returning with two bands in his hands. He swiftly tied her hair off in twin ponytails, giving each a testing tug that might’ve made her whimper had her teeth not been sawing into her lip.
“Normally a blindfold makes the sensations sharper, but I know how visual you are.” He undid another of the chair cushions and slipped it under her ass, lifting her almost embarrassingly high off the table. “You’ll come as much from what you see as what you feel.”
“You told me not to look at you.” She cheated and sneaked a glance at him.
His eyes darkened as he feasted his gaze upon her, spread out for his taking. “You’ll be looking at you.”
He picked up one of the candles and the lighter and she relaxed. Somehow she’d never thought Cory would be the type to spend much time setting a mood. She smiled as the flame caught and he cupped it in his palm before lighting the other two. It was nice to see she could be wrong.
She eased up on her elbows as he set the lit candles between her legs, one after the other. They were small, but the heat coming off them still warmed the insides of her thighs. And other parts of her. She angled a little closer. The heat felt so good—
“You’re not to move.” His hand on her belly was a secondary warning. “No matter what. Look at me now, Victoria.” She did, and nearly shuddered from the power in one simple shared glance. “You have your safe word, and you’re free to use it when you need to. But until that moment, you’re not to so much as twitch without my okay. Your safety is most important. Understand me?”
Her mind whirled. Safety? He hadn’t gathered any ropes or ties. What was he planning on doing?
Mutely, she nodded.
“Say it, Vic.” He reached for the oil and with the scent of cherries came understanding. Oh. Wax play. After her offhand joke the night he’d made his fake girlfriend proposition, she’d done her research. Suddenly the intoxicating heat licking up the sensitive insides of her legs didn’t seem quite so playful. “I don’t want to take any chances with you.”
She stared at the jumping flames. “I won’t move.”
