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“I could always tie you to the bed,” he said, gripping the knot on his tie and loosening it until it came free. “Then I could do whatever I wanted with you.”
He slid his tie through his hands, the silk heavy and cool against his skin. It would be soft on her wrists. And it would hold her tight.
There was something intoxicating about the thought of total control, and dammit, he’d never considered himself that kind of guy before.
But life was a big mess. A giant, uncontrollable beast that moved forward with the force of a freight train, whether you wanted it to or not. Which was why all you could really do was your best to have as much fun as possible until it ate you.
Except right in this moment, time seemed to be slower. And here in his room, he felt like he might be able to master it.
Or at least master something.
“I think that’s what I want,” he said. “You. Tied up for me. Naked. Take off your dress.”
“All the way?”
“Yes. All the way. Your bra. I’m on the fence about the heels. We’ll decide about those after the rest is gone.”
Her fingers shook as she reached around and undid the zipper on her dress, letting it fall down past her hips. She had one of those strapless bras on. Not much support or padding to speak of if the jut of her nipples through the fabric was anything to go by.
And that meant she had every asset she’d promised to have.
At this point, though, he didn’t care. Regardless of how she looked naked, she’d proven she was hot.
And he was hard for her again already.
She unhooked her bra and he almost lost it right then. She was totally naked for him, and she was perfect. Full, pale breasts, pink nipples. The sweet spot at the apex of her thighs. He’d already tasted her there, and now he craved more. She was better than ice cream. And he wanted to lick her all over.
“Now, get on the bed. Put your hands up over your head.” She obeyed, sitting on the edge of the bed, raising her arms up over her head, her wrists crossed. “Yeah, like that,” he said. “Hold still.”
He approached the bed and wound the tie around one wrist, then the other, then around both before knotting it. She could escape if she wanted to. But she wouldn’t. He was certain of that. Of her commitment to him. Her commitment to giving him the control.
And he had no idea what she was getting out of it, but he knew what it did for him. That was all he needed to know. This was just one night, not a relationship. And it was a bed, not a freaking psychiatrist’s couch.
“Put your arms down. Hands in your lap,” he said.
She obeyed, and she was watching him far too closely for his liking. Her eyes were arousal-glazed enough. They were too clear. Too smart. Too watchful. Like she was seeing through his suit. His chest. Down to the things beneath that. His heart. His soul, if you believed in shit like that.
He needed her a lot more mindless.
He started to unbutton his shirt and he kept his focus on her. Now she was starting to look glazed, her breasts rising and falling sharply with each quick little breath she took.
He pushed his shirt off his shoulders and shoved his pants and underwear down, gratified by the hitch in her breath when he was naked in front of her.
“Do you know what I want you to do?” he asked.
She looked up at him and shook her head.
“I want you to suck my cock.”
The color in her cheeks deepened, the speed of her breathing increasing. He could see her pulse fluttering at the base of her neck.Oh, Evie.That was what he liked about her. Every emotion, every want, every thought, spoken out loud by her body.
He moved closer to the bed and reached behind her head, sinking his fingers deep into her hair and tugging back, tilting her face up. “You have such pretty lips,” he said. “I want them wrapped around me.”
She fidgeted, her cheeks brilliant pink, her eyes bright. “Whatever you say.” He guided her to him and she pressed her mouth against his length, testing him delicately with the tip of her tongue. Her hesitance only got him harder, hotter. And the guilt stabbed at him again. The combination of her tongue, her innocence and his own physical response to it was enough to send him over the edge.
He wrapped one hand around the base of his erection and squeezed tight, trying to keep control. She looked up at him, her tongue sliding along his length, from the head down to where he held himself tight, before following the same path back up.
Then she adjusted her position, her hands tied, his grip still solid on her hair, and took him in deep. His knees almost gave out. He tugged hard on her hair, to brace himself, to prove he was still rooted to the earth.
