Forbidden Fantasies Bundle(65)

Slow? Was she kidding? He wanted to rip off her clothes and jam into her. Screw this fantasy nonsense.

But he saw how determined she was and he couldn’t disappoint her. If she wanted to play games, he would play games. He put his gun on a shelf, safely out of the way, and went to accept the sash she held out to him.

“You want me to tie you up?” he asked, running it through his fingers.

In answer, she lifted the other arm against the arch and crossed her wrists. “Yes. Then make me beg for more.”

She was pale against the dark metal—pale and vulnerable—waiting for him to restrain her. She trusted him, was giving herself over to him, even though she was a little scared. He knew that because he knew her well—better than she realized. Her bravado moved him. And made him vow to protect her from every imaginable harm.

He wanted to pull her away from that unforgiving metal, take her tender body into his arms, carry her to the bed and make love to her.

How do you see me, Rick? She’d asked him once. In leather? Velvet? Silk? Something see-through?

Right now, he pictured her in simple cotton panties in the middle of a pillow fight—feathers flying, giggling like a girl—and he wanted to nab her and pin her to the sheets with his body and his joy.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Her. Samantha. She was what was wrong with him. He loved the take-no-prisoners temptress and the tentative innocent beneath the bold moves.

The soft velvet of her dress cupped her curves, stroked her skin. She rocked her hips forward and back in a slow grind, a move that was clearly arousing her.

Lust pounded through him, as hard and heavy as a sledgehammer.

Just give the lady what she wants.

Easy enough to take hot, hard pleasure in her, ignore the fact that she made him want so much more.

He stepped closer, his body nearly brushing hers, and her pupils dilated with pleasure. The candles flickered around them, sending up threatening shadows, as if they’d discovered each other in a dangerous place and were only safe in each other’s arms.

“Rick,” she breathed, softening against the arch.

He ran his thumbs across the peaks of her breasts through the velvet. Her nipples were tight beads through the thick cloth. No bra. Just dress. Was it soft for her on the inside, where it touched her skin?

She gasped with pleasure.

He stopped. “You want to be helpless? Is that what you want?” He deliberately spoke roughly, guessing she wanted that.

She nodded happily. “Yes. Absolutely. Make me helpless.”

“Be warned. I won’t stop until I’ve had my fill,” he said, playing her game for her.

“You won’t stop?” she said breathlessly.

“Not until I’m finished with you.”

“How many times will I come?”

“As many times as I make you,” he growled, wrapping the velvet strip around and around her wrists.

“Oh,” she breathed, her eyes wide. “That will be wonderful.”

“No, it won’t. You’ll beg me to stop.” He yanked the tie tight for effect, fighting a smile. “Is that what you want? Say yes or no.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, please,” he added, then surprised her with a finger against her clit through the dress.

“Oh, yes, please, yes.” The way she quivered turned him to steel. He’d just promised her multiple orgasms when all he wanted was to bury himself in her and ride the pleasure of mutual release.

This was what she wanted, though. She stood with her legs slightly apart, her hands tied above her head, swathed in black. She wanted him to be her master. That was a laugh. What man could ever master Samantha?

He ran a finger slowly between her breasts and down her belly through the soft dress.

“Oh, yes.” She closed her eyes, anticipating more, rocking her hips forward, so he stopped. Her eyes flew open. “Don’t stop.”

“But I want to,” he lied. “I want you to ache for me.” He moved so his lips were millimeters from hers.

“I do, I ache for you.” She leaned forward for a kiss. He allowed the barest contact and then pulled away.

She moaned. “Please…”

Ah, hell. He gave in and kissed her, sliding his tongue inside for a probing taste of her. Her tongue lapped at his, eager, desperate, so he dragged away his mouth and surprised her by popping open the top button of her dress, baring her breasts almost to the nipple.

Samantha’s greedy gasp made her locket quiver in the middle of her chest. He ran his tongue around the medallion, then traced the line where the velvet touched her skin, finally shoving his tongue deep enough under the fabric to reach a nipple.

She writhed and wriggled, then pushed her hips against him.