Instead, he shut his eyes and thought about swirls of paint, quiet blues in shades that soothed his soul.
When he opened his eyes again, Kate was looking less certain of herself.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from.” She actually looked ashamed.
He shrugged. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re competitive, and you don’t want me to win. And yet, you do.”
“I do?”
“Don’t you?” He went to the chest of drawers and opened one, fishing out a coil of rope. “Have you ever played with rope before?”
“Not rope, no, but my ex tied me to the bed once. Just my hands. He got bored, though, because he didn’t want to do the work, so he untied me after a couple of minutes.” The frustration in her tone made him sad. What was it with men who didn’t want to blow a woman’s mind in bed? Was there no pride in workmanship anymore?
“I apologize on behalf of my sex. Men like that should have warning labels.”
“He didn’t believe in reciprocating for oral either. Add that to his label.” She shook her head as though incredulous that she’d dated such an idiot. “And why on earth am I telling you this?”
“I think it’s because deep down you know you can trust me.”
“Hmm.” She shook her head skeptically. “I think I just have a tendency to overshare.”
“Well, you answered my question anyway.” He uncoiled the rope. “I’m going to tie your hands, and we’re going to see how you feel about that, okay?”
“Why?”
“To see if you like rope, of course. I’m not tying you to anything, so you’ll be free to move around.”
When she nodded, he moved behind her.
“Would this be easier if my shirt was off?”
Jeez, was she trying to kill him?
“No. It would be prettier if your shirt was off, but I can bind your arms just fine while you’re wearing your T-shirt, if that’s what you’d prefer.”
“Would it be okay with you if I took it off?” She wasn’t playing a game. Her furrowed brow spoke of her uncertainty.
Fuck. Take your pants off, too, and sit on my aching cock while you’re at it.
“Whatever is most comfortable for you.”
Kate stared at him a moment before yanking her shirt off like it was driving her crazy. “Can I just . . .” She stepped closer and reached up, unbuttoning his shirt from his neck to his midchest. “That’s better.”
She really did seem to have a thing for suits.
Instead of stepping back, her fingers slid over the contour of muscle under his shirt. If she was trying to keep this all business, she was using the wrong approach.
“You, young lady, are driving me crazy.” He grabbed a handful of hair and pushed her onto the coffee table. “Kneel here. If you keep touching me like that, I’m going to assume you’re interested in more than training.”
“I’m sorry. I just—you’re good to look at.”
“So are you. Not turning this into sex is hard enough. Don’t be mean.”
She looked smug, not sorry.
Cock tease. She had a safeword, but he got the feeling that if he tried to turn this into sex she wouldn’t object. But she was the one who’d said no, so she was out of luck until she begged for it.
He moved behind her and tied her wrists together, then worked up her arms until she was immobilized to the elbow. Stepping back, he admired his work. So pretty. The curve of her cheek, the slope of her neck to her shoulder, the flawless skin, the look of rope on a helpless woman—all of it made him want her even more.
“Kneel straighter.” As he walked to stand in front of her, she straightened, her breasts pushing out at him impudently, the nipples hard and seeking his attention.
What he wouldn’t do for a camera. To him, this was far sexier than any porn, and she still had her pants on.
“Stay.” He walked back to the cabinet and sorted through the contents, then returned with an armload of sensation playthings.
“What’s all that? Is that a paintbrush?”
“It is.”
“Do I look like I need retouching? Is my paint flaking off?”
“Shut your sexy mouth before I shove something in it.”
She blinked at him. “Sorry.”
The paintbrush would be his starter, then, since it had her attention. With a gentle stroke, he flicked the tip of the brush over Kate’s skin, along her collarbone. Her breath caught, and she wriggled in place, then settled.
“People think of pain as the only sensation in kink, but there are so many others. Do you like being tickled?”
“I don’t know, Sir.”
He used the brush again, dragging it along the curve of her breasts, down to her navel, then back up to her nipples. They puckered harder when he traced them with the brush, and Kate moaned, arching toward him. He went around her and painted along her back then, the brush drawing out shudders and goose bumps, as well as squeaks and sighs of appreciation. When he reached her waistband he traced along it, then pushed it down a couple of inches to play with the band of skin he’d bared.
Kate sank further into her kneel, her knees widening. Taking that as a cue, he reversed the brush in his grip and ran the smooth, wooden handle over her clit.
“What’s working for you, little girl? Being tied, being tickled, or both?”
“Both, Sir,” she said through gritted teeth. She whimpered.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” she said, her voice tight. Her hips were angled as far toward him as they could get, and she’d even shuffled a few inches toward him.
He pressed hard on her clit, then eased off, tickling again.
Kate mumbled something profane under her breath. “Why are you so mean?”
“Mean? You don’t like this?”
“Ugh! It’s . . . frustrating. My pants are annoying me.”
He raised his brows. “You told me you wanted them to stay on, remember?”
They stared at each other. She couldn’t have it both ways.
He ran one of his short fingernails over the bump of her clit, and she moaned. He’d never claimed he played fair.
“Temporary insanity!” she blurted. “Could you take them off?”
Don’t gloat. Just give the woman what she wants. “Certainly. Up.”
She stood, and he slid the yoga pants down her long, perfect legs, then steadied her as she stepped out of them.
Damn. Her bare pussy was so close to his face that he could smell her arousal. So her ex hadn’t been big on giving oral? Poor girl. He leaned in and blew a breath along her sex. Automatically, her hips tipped toward him again.
Not so fast, greedy.
“Kneel in the position I showed you last time. Facedown, ass up.”
She groaned, but complied. He held her elbow so she didn’t topple over.
“Tell me if your neck starts to get sore.” He checked her hands, which were warm and still a good color.
“Yes, Sir.”
He ran the brush over her bound arms, tickled between her fingers, drew invisible designs on her back.
“Look at those pretty stripes.” Her ass had several red belt marks still visible. He went over them with the brush and she whimpered, and then held her breath every time he went near the cleft of her ass.
“How have you stayed a virgin here with an ass like this?” He swept his brush down the valley, fascinated at the way Kate cringed and her ass tightened when he drew close. As he used the brush to lick a tickling path over the puckered hole, her high-pitched whine made him chuckle. Maybe she’d marked “curious” on the questionnaire, but her response now told a different story. She was nervous which meant he’d have to go slow.
“I don’t know.” Her voice was high, plaintive. “No one was ever interested in . . . that part of me before, I guess.”
He tossed the brush aside and slipped a finger between her legs, finding she was even more soaked than before. Playing with her clit made her squirm, her breath coming hard.
“Well, if you have a Dom, chances are he’ll use you there too. Some guys aren’t into it, though, so you might be safe.” If she went to Konstantin or Ambrose, however, she wouldn’t be.
“You’ve taken all your slaves there?” She gasped, trying to edge backward and capture his hand between her thighs.
“Yes. A few were anal virgins, but I fixed that. My slaves don’t get to tell me no without a damn good reason.”
“Like?”
“If it was an abuse trigger, or if there was a health reason why they couldn’t.”
Kate didn’t answer, but her moans were eloquent. Apparently, her clit liked him just fine, even if she didn’t want sex.
She squirmed and whined exactly the way he wanted, her body far more obedient to him than her mind. As she was about to come, he stopped and untied her arms.
“I think that’s enough for today.”
“What?” She got to her feet and looked at him incredulously. “But . . . you put that big pile of things there. I thought we’d be experimenting for a while.”
“Actually, Kate, I’m getting pretty uncomfortable.” He was careful to keep his expression neutral. “I know you’re curious about things and want to know whether you’ll like them, but I’m having trouble staying scientific about this. You don’t want sex, and I respect that, but I’m not a machine. I have needs to deal with too.”