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My hands are trembling with anticipation as I slide them over his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under my palm. “You’ll get off too, right? We’ll…have sex, right?”
He smiles down at me. “Don’t you worry about me, Daisy. This isn’t about sex, but if I want to fuck you, I will.”
I swallow, loving the way those words sound on his lips. A little harshness and coldness on his usually kind and warm demeanor.
God, I hope he does. The idea of coming so much I beg for mercy sounds nice, but what I really want is him. For him to lose control and not be able to help himself anymore.
With that, I set my shoulders and smile. “I’m ready.”
“Get on the bed,” he says in a cool command.
Taking a deep breath, I walk over to the bed. Unlike the last time I was in here, the pillows and duvet are gone, leaving only black sheets. I climb up and turn to face him, waiting for further instruction.
“Lie down,” he says.
I do. He takes each hand and binds it in the Velcro strap, before moving to my legs. Then he picks up the blindfold from the mattress and situates it over my eyes. My heart is beating so hard in my chest. I am completely at his mercy, and even though I know Ronan would never hurt me, it’s still unsettling and a little scary.
His hands glide over the top of one leg and down the other, as if he’s just letting me feel his touch. Connecting us.
“You look so beautiful like this, Daisy. I’m committing the sight of you to memory.”
I want to tell him he doesn’t have to commit it to memory. I’ll be like this for him whenever he wants. Forever.
But I don’t speak. I just focus on his touch and the sound of his voice.
“This is just a stimulant. It’s going to feel cold.”
I jump when his fingers skim through my folds, rubbing something cool over my clit. Immediately, the skin between my legs pulses, and I’m hyperaware of even the air touching my most sensitive spot.
“Uh…” I gasp, starting to squirm.
“Does that feel good, baby girl?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Then his fingers are gone from my skin and I wait. It’s silent, which is why I nearly jump when I feel something soft against my chest. It’s a feathery light touch, but not knowing what it is makes me panic.
“Relax, Daisy. Trust me.”
The softness is drifting upward to my neck and then my cheek. He’s skimming it over my neck when I feel his fingers sliding up the inside of my thigh.
But just when I expect him to reach the apex and slide over my exceedingly sensitive sex, he moves away. Again and again, he does that, as if he’s rubbing my muscles instead of making me come.
Suddenly, I catch the scent of something aromatic and put it all together. He’s rubbing oil over my skin. He’s literally massaging me. And the anticipation of his touch is killing me.
I should be so relaxed and enjoying this, but instead, I’m a ball of nerves, waiting for the other shoe to drop. All of my fears and anxiety are hanging in the air, blocking me from really connecting to this the way he wants.
“You’re tense,” he says, and I swallow back tears.
Let it go, Daisy. It’s okay to feel good. It’s okay to be happy.
I do my best to quiet my mind, focusing only on his touch, the sound of his breathing, his nearness. The tingle of warmth between my legs. That intoxicating scent of lavender and sandalwood. It’s invigorating and sexy and I chant to myself in my mind that there is nothing else but this.Nothing else but this. Nothing else but this.
I’ve nearly silenced the voices when something starts buzzing quietly near my head and I swallow.
It’s a low vibration and he drifts it up the inside of my legs in the same pattern as his hands a moment ago. And just like his hands, he detours the vibrator before putting it where I really want it.
I let out a groan as I lift my hips, trying to chase the thing in his hands with my body. But he only chuckles quietly to himself before teasing me again.
