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Rory thought that part lasted forever.
She wanted it to.
And when Conrad finally came, she joined him once more. Then she felt herself disappear completely, with the oddest, strangest notion that she had never been more desired. Or more beautiful. Or more appreciated.
Or more inexplicably safe than she was in his arms.
CHAPTER NINE
CONRADFELTSOMETHINGLIKE...shaken.
Rory was slumped in his lap, her head against his shoulder. He was still deep inside her, and there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to simply stay right there.
Forever,something in him whispered.
But that was foolish. He almost laughed, because that was the response of the newbie that she was, not the seasoned master he’d been for years.
It was endorphins, he lectured himself. Not emotions.
He should know the difference.
Conrad pushed away the clamps and the chains that still dangled down around them, though they were no longer connected to her flesh. Then he angled Rory back, so he could check the state of things. Of her.
Her eyes were closed and her lips parted, but her color was good. When he reached down to test her nipples, she murmured something, but he couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or protest—both, perhaps, at this point. She should have been good and sensitive.
He lifted her off him, then switched places with her to deposit her in the chair. He dealt with the condom, then tucked himself away. And when he turned back, he took a moment, because his chest tightened almost unbearably at the sight of her.
Conrad had thought she was remarkably pretty when he’d first seen her, standing in his chapel, surrounded by his equipment—even though she shouldn’t have been in that room. But now she was so much more than that. She was naked, save for the cuffs that she held to one side, that still pushed her breasts forward as she lolled there in the chair. And that play collar around her neck like his hand.
Like a brand.
Like a wish,something in him offered.
He ignored that. Or tried.
He squatted down next to the chair, and had the uncharacteristic urge to push her hair back from her face when it didn’t need any rearranging, but he didn’t. Because somehow that felt tender in a way he never was in these moments, and he didn’t think it would be wise to follow that urge to its conclusion. He released her hands instead, pulling her wrists in front of her so he could rub them and make sure that her circulation was as it should be. Because his duty to her was not about his feelings here. Her physical well-being came first.
“Any numbness?” he asked her, his voice quieter than before.
She murmured something vaguely negative, her head still lolling back against the chair and her eyes still shut.
And his cock stirred all over again at the sight of her in nothing but a collar he’d put on her.
Stop,he told himself.
He made himself remove the collar, and then he stroked her neck as well. He felt for her pulse, making certain that while she was likely depleted after the intensity of the scene, that was all she was. When he was satisfied, he stood and scooped her up into his arms.
And the tight feeling in his chest intensified as she nestled into him, one hand coming up to rest just over his heart.
He was sure she could feel it kicking. Hard.
Conrad carried her through the living room, grabbing a throw from the back of an armchair as he went, then continuing straight on through the French doors and out into his garden.
The night was cooler than before, so he draped the throw over her as he carried her down the stairs, taking her beneath the thick canopy of trees that protected them both from prying eyes and the buildings looming overhead. He took her over to his gazebo, where a hot tub waited and comfortable, cozy chairs and chaises ringed it. He settled her on a chaise, tucking the throw around her.
Her eyes stayed shut, so Conrad tended to the practicalities. He made sure the water was bubbling hot. He checked her vitals once again, then left her for a moment. He returned with a glass of water and a small plate with a selection of sweet and salty snacks, placed them down on the table beside her, and picked her up again. Then he settled them both down on that chaise, with her resting against his chest, between his legs, and cuddled up warm and safe.
For a long time, she dozed in and out of whatever space she was in. Conrad relaxed against the chaise, stroking her hair with one hand and opting not to pay too close attention to the perfect weight of her there against his chest. The way her face fit there in the crook of his neck. Or the way she held her hands up in front of her, clasping them together, right there against his heart.
