He pulled her in closer to his body. Until nothing separated them and his arms were wrapped around her satiny, naked skin. He allowed his hands to roam down her back, cupping her buttocks and then squeezing.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, allowing her one last out. “Enough not to question anything I ask of you tonight? To follow and heed my instructions regardless of what they may be?”
She leaned her head back, determination and resolve firm in those beautiful eyes. She looped her arms loosely around his neck, but never once did she break free of his gaze.
“My gift to you is me,” she said in a sweet, soul-stirring voice that was a caress all in its own. “I am yours, Drake. I know you’ll never hurt me. I can’t promise not to ever be afraid at any point tonight, but you need to know that my fear is not of you. Never of you. If I fear anything at all, it will be the unknown. But most of all, my greatest fear will be of letting you down.”
“Then go and prepare for me,” he said in a husky voice. “Take a long bath and soak for a while. There is no hurry, as it will take me a little time to make the proper arrangements for a night my angel has promised is all mine. My fantasy. My pleasure. And know, Evangeline, that you will be repaid in full measure for the gift you are offering me tonight. I too plan to come up with very creative ways of expressing my gratitude.”#p#分页标题#e#
He trailed a finger down her silken cheek as their gazes remained locked.
“When you are finished bathing, dry yourself and your hair and then go lie down on the bed. Don’t pull the covers and sheets back. I want you to lie in the middle, your hair spread across the pillows, thighs parted, hands above your head with your fingers wrapped around the slats of the headboard.”
She smiled, then sighed and shook her head ruefully. “And yet again, a night that is supposed to be solely about you sounds an awful lot like I’m the one being a pampered, spoiled princess.”
He regarded her solemnly. “Have no doubt, Angel. You are my pampered princess. But tonight, I intend only to watch, and this is very much for me. Just remember your promise to trust me and know that I will never allow you to come to harm, and my night will be fucking perfect.”
As Evangeline languidly soaked in the tub, she pondered the oddity of Drake’s last words to her before he’d ushered her into the bedroom and then disappeared, leaving her to heed his instructions.
They seemed in direct contradiction and try as she might, she couldn’t come up with a scenario in which, as he’d said, tonight he’d only watch but had followed it with a solemn vow that he would never allow her to come to harm.
The two statements seemed incongruous. Granted, she didn’t have much experience with sex, much less kinky, dominant sex or fetishes. She wasn’t even sure what they were called or even the differences between a kink and a fetish or if there even was one.
Well, she wasn’t going to ruin what promised to be an exciting night by overanalyzing Drake’s cryptic words. She was more focused on his reaction to her impassioned statement about wanting to please him, wanting him to teach her to please him and that she wanted to give back at least a small part of all he’d given to her.
That had pleased him immensely. There was no mistaking the wonderment and surprise and yes, even delight over her sincerity. And he’d admitted what she’d already reasoned out on her own, that he had never had anyone who cared for him, who took care of him and placed his needs above their own. Had anyone ever loved him? Or at least cared deeply for him? Or were the majority of the people in his life manipulative users out to milk him for every cent they could extort?
And what of his family? He’d never spoken of them and he seemed bemused by her close relationship with her parents. In fact, she strongly suspected that he’d felt anger toward them and the fact that she’d given up so much to support them until he’d witnessed firsthand their love and concern for her. He’d even spoken to them himself and after that, she’d never seen that fleeting hint of suppressed anger when she spoke of her family.
“Oh, Drake,” she whispered, her heart aching. “How lonely must it have been to live in a world where no one cared about you? How awful must it be for your worth to be measured by money and social status? Has anyone ever seen the real Drake Donovan? Has no one ever loved the real Drake Donovan?”
If it was the last thing she did, she was going to prove to him that his money didn’t mean a damn to her. For that matter, she wished he had none at all because then he would never harbor any doubt as to her reasons for being with him. She would want to be with him, want desperately to submit to him and please him even if he didn’t have one cent to his name.