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Her head jerked back. “No, I—”
“Did you like it, Karta?” He leaned over her, his words low, dangerous. “Being tied up?”
“I don’t—I don’t know—”
“Did you like it?”
Her eyes closed for a long breath. “I…I didn’t hate it.”
“So I think you’re going to like this.” A smile, wanton, came to his face. “But I’m not tying you up. You’re tying me.”
“I—what?” Her eyes went wide.
“You’re tying me up. Lashing me to the bed. You’re going to be in complete control of me.” He gave a slight shake of his head. “You were never meant to be tied down, Karta. You were always meant to be free. Your mind, your body, your soul.”
“Dom, I don’t know if I—”
“No—we’re even in this—always. You’ve been tied to a bed. I want that same experience. I want you to do that to me. You are my match, my love, in every single way, and I don’t want you to ever feel shame for what your life has brought you. So you do this and I can show you exactly how right this can be. How there is no shame in it.”
He shoved one of the strips into her hand and he moved past her to lie back on the bed, setting his wrist next to the carved mahogany bedpost. His gaze landed on her, insistent as his voice went hard. “Now tie me up.”
She stared at him for a long moment, unsure.
If she didn’t trust him more than anything—trust him more than she trusted herself—she wouldn’t have moved.
But she did.
Slowly, she crawled over his naked torso and weaved the cloth around the post, crossing his wrists several times and then back to the post. She tied a knot.
“It’s tight.”
She looked down at his face. “Too tight?”
His right cheek lifted with a wicked grin. “Perfectly tight.”
The smallest smile came to her face and she moved over him to reach his left wrist. It only took her quick seconds to lash it to the other bedpost and her breath left her as she sat back on her heels on the bed.
Domnall spread out before her. Thick arms wide. His chest lifting in heavy breaths. The muscles along his abdomen twitching. The full length of his member, large and strong and straining upward against his belly. His dark blue eyes on fire, smoldering with wanting to attack her but not having the ability to.
Vulnerable.
He was absolutely under her control.
As much as she wanted to lift her skirts and slide down directly onto his engorged shaft, feel the length of him deep inside of her, she wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass her. The odd sense of power. Of control.
She pushed herself to her toes and stood upright on the bed. The blue damask canopy of the tester bed still high above her, she stretched her arms up high in a long stretch, then shuffled to his legs. She slipped her toes between his legs, spreading his right leg wide, then his left.
Stepping between his legs, she lifted her skirts, reaching for the ribbon holding up the stocking on her right leg. Tugging the ribbon loose, she slowly dragged the stocking downward, making sure to keep her skirts high, showing every speck of skin she revealed.
A groan rumbled in his chest. “Hell, Karta. You cannot do this to me.”
“I can. And I am.” She switched to her left leg, stripping down the other stocking even slower.
His legs curled around her ankles and she shook her head, a wicked smile on her lips as she kicked his calves wide again.
Her fingers went to the military row of brass buttons on her spencer and she flicked them free, pausing between each one. Watching his face. Watching the torture she was causing him. If he’d been free, he’d already be inside of her and riding her hard. And she would be loving it.
But this was much more fun.
