I gasped as he licked a path down my navel to my inner thighs. He sucked at a tender spot while I worked against the scarf, making no progress, just moving the wicked thing against my body deliciously while he did even more delicious things down below. He worked that clever mouth from my groin to that sensitive spot behind my knee and back again. I struggled hard, because it felt good, because I couldn't believe that the ridiculous scarf could hold me so securely, and because I wanted my hands free to push that teasing mouth where I needed it to be.
I only succeeded in trapping myself more securely, and James took his sweet time moving that tongue just where I craved it.
I stopped struggling when he finally buried his face between my legs, thrusting his tongue inside of me before licking up to my clit.
He lifted his head as I stilled. "Keep struggling," he told me.
I couldn't see a thing, but I could hear the wicked smile in his voice.
He plunged two hard fingers inside of me, once, twice, and I came on a dime. He was kissing up my body, nudging aside the material where it covered a nipple. He sucked hard on my nipple as he plunged inside of me. I gasped and struggled harder against the soft bindings.
He was dragging his cock out of me, hitting every perfect nerve, when he uncovered my eyes. The rest he left imprisoned as he dug his elbows into the mattress on the sides of my breasts and drove into me again and again. His eyes showed me that the tender-lover was driving for this ride, though the warm smile in his voice as he tormented me had given me fair warning.
"Say it, Bianca," he said, his voice more tender than demanding. Still, I knew it was an order.
"I'm yours, James," I told him softly.
His eyelids fluttered briefly as he started to come inside of me. He bottomed out in me with the sexiest little moan, and I came.
"Cashmere fucking," he told me with a smile as we caught our breath.
I laughed. "So that's what that was called. Good to know."
He unwrapped me from the long scarf slowly, rubbing it along my body as he did so. I rubbed against him, always craving his touch, even as my eyes drifted closed and I fell into a hard sleep.
I had the dream again and woke up scrambling out of bed in the dark, disoriented and scared. Hard familiar arms caught me almost immediately, lifting me from behind, and carrying me into the bathroom. I had to shut my eyes tight as light flooded the room.
We were already naked so he just stepped into the tub, never letting me go as he turned on the water and leaned back against the edge of the huge tub. I turned into him, wrapping my arms around his neck, clinging as hard as I could. Soothing arms stroked my back, washing and comforting, soft whispers telling me everything would be fine.
"I can't stand it. I know it's a dream, but it feels so real," I whispered. I didn't break down, didn't cry this time, though the dream had shaken me as badly as before. More so.
"Shhh, Love. Just breathe. The memories will fade. Nightmare memories always do."
He said it like someone well acquainted with nightmares. I wasn't surprised.
I lifted my head to look at him. He stroked my hair, meeting my eyes squarely. He could communicate so much to me with just those exquisite, tarnished eyes of his.
I swallowed hard. Residual fear from the dream still haunted me. The thought of losing him made me desperate and empty and filled me with despair darker than anything I'd ever known, and I was hardly a stranger to dark thoughts.
I pulled back enough to move up his body, straddling his hips in the rising water. I traced a finger over that smooth brow, the hollow in his cheek, that perfectly straight nose, those pretty lips, and then across that hard jaw.
I cupped his face in my hands, watching him steadily. He pressed his own hands over mine, giving me such a loving look that I melted.
"The thought of losing you makes me desperate," I said, shifting our faces closer. My eyes were steady on his when I took the leap. "I love you, James," I said, my voice just a whisper. "So much."
His eyes closed for just an instant, and he took a deep breath. When he opened them again there was such a raw relief there that it made me shake.
"Thank you," he said roughly. "I've been waiting for that, and wanting that, for so long."
He stroked his hands over my hair, watching me, his eyes going to that soft loving place that I'd come to crave and depend on so quickly.
He was silent for so long, just watching me and touching me, that I lost our silent standoff.
"Do you … love me?" I asked him, my chest hurting.