“Okay,” I breathed. “But do we need to have a safe word?” I knew enough about sex games to know about safe words and I wanted to be able to stop this if I didn’t like it.
He laughed. “Would you feel better if we had a safe word?”
“I guess,” I said. “I’m not into pain or anything, William.”
“Neither am I, Catherine. This is something else entirely. And I promise, you’ll like it and I’ll never hurt you. But if you’d feel better with a safe word, why don’t you pick one?” He looked at me, waiting for my answer.
I thought for a second. “Rosé. That’s my safe word. Rosé.”
William chuckled again. “Rosé it is. If you say rosé, everything will immediately come to a stop. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I said breathlessly. “Thank you.” I smiled up at him. I was still incredibly turned on and more than ready for him to pleasure me however he wanted.
“Let’s get started then.” He smiled and reached for the nightstand. He withdrew a long red silk scarf and, very slowly, he tied it about my eyes. Everything went dark, and I became hyper aware of the sound of my harsh breathing and the warmth of William’s body beside mine. I heard another sound, and then he gently stretched my arms above my head and guided my fingers until they grasped the ornately carved wood headboard. Something soft and furry snapped around first one wrist then the other.
“These are handcuffs,” William told me. “They’re fur lined, so they shouldn’t pinch.”
“Handcuffs?” I teased. “Now this is getting kinky.”
I heard a quiet laugh. “Oh, Catherine, you have no idea.” He moved away from me, slightly, and I shifted to get a sense of where he was. The handcuffs had enough give to allow me to move my arms, but just barely. I didn’t know what he was doing or what would come next.
From the moment I’d met him, I knew he had a dark sexual side. It alternately thrilled and unsettled me. Jace and I had been completely vanilla. I’d never thought of myself as someone who wanted to be tied up, who wanted to be dominated—let’s face it, that’s what this was. William made no secret he liked to be in control and I was submitting to him. More than willingly. That was something to think about later.
The silence continued, and in my nervousness, I reached to fill it. “So what is this? Handcuffs in the nightstand? Do you chain women to your bed often?”
He laughed, but it sounded more devilish than reassuring. “No, I bought these specifically for us. I’ve thought about having you like this since the day I licked chocolate off you in your kitchen. Do you remember that?”
I nodded. My thighs tensed as I recalled the feel of his tongue on that sensitive skin.
“Since that day, I’ve fantasized about this over and over.”
The bed sagged, and I felt his warmth beside me again. The bare flesh of his thigh rubbed against my torso. He’d obviously gotten undressed. He didn’t touch me but just his nearness was enough to make my hips arch involuntarily again.
“We can stop at any time you don’t like it, but you look so fucking hot, cuffed to my bed, so turned on and at my mercy. What’s your safe word, Catherine?”
My breath hitched in and I felt a gush of dampness between my thighs. I was more turned on than I could ever remember being, and he hadn’t even touched my sex yet. “Rosé,” I managed to say. My heart was hammering in my chest as I waited in anticipation. I felt him shift and then his mouth pressed gentle kisses on my belly, and I gasped and moaned. “Oh fuck. William. Don’t stop.”
He laughed quietly as his tongue, wet and warm, swirled over my flesh. He nudged my knees apart, probably sensing how close I was to coming. I was soaked and pulsing and could have made myself come so easily if I pressed my legs together.
“Please don’t stop,” I begged. I wanted to push his head to my sex but my raised arms strained against the handcuffs instead. “Please, please, please…”
“I’m just getting started.” But then his hands left my body and he got up off the bed. I whimpered. And then for a long moment I felt and heard nothing.
“William?”
Then the bed shifted and he was back again. “Relax and try to open yourself to every sensation, Catherine. Don’t anticipate or second-guess. Just feel. Do the cuffs caress your wrists? Is the fur silky? Is the wood on the headboard warm under your fingertips?”
I hadn’t noticed all the tiny sensations. When I concentrated on them, I felt my body come more alive. I was aware of the cool breeze from the open terrace door skating over my flesh, of the way it flicked over my nipples and teased the end of my hair. My shoes pinched my toes slightly, my knee itched, and I could just make out a sliver of light where the blindfold covered my nose. But mostly I felt the heavy warmth in my belly. My thong was soaked with my need, my sex swollen in anticipation.