He smiled. “Thank you. We try. Now give me your hand,” he said, unreeling a sweep of rope with a jerk of his wrist.
Helping her down from the bed, he took her by the shoulders, his slender fingers sliding over her warm skin, the slope of her upper arm, and for a second a rush of helplessness blew through Nicole’s senses.
“You’re safe,” Rafe murmured, as if he knew. Pulling her back into his body with a one-armed hug, he gently stroked her throat. “Okay?”
She nodded.
He waited while she sighed; he didn’t move.
“The thing is… you know the drill”—she took a small breath—“and I don’t.”
His fingers on her throat soothed her fluttering pulse. “No drill, pussycat. Just you and me feeling good.”
She sighed again, then turned her head, her blue eyes laser bright. “Okay, I’m on board. Swear to God,” she added because he was watching her from under his lashes.
He couldn’t hide his grin. “Could we leave God out of this?”
“Fuck you.” But she was grinning too.
“All in good time,” he said with a wink, then dropped his arm, rested the center of the rope in his right hand, and smoothly folded it in two.
“The rope smells nice—like freshly mowed lawns.” Looking over her shoulder again, her smile froze on her face, a prickle rose at the back of her neck. Lidded jungle-cat eyes were staring at her. “Rafe?”
Nothing, not a blink.
She half twisted around, her heart drumming. “Hey.” A sharper tone. “Rafe!”
She got his attention. “Sorry.” Smooth and easy, a lazy smile. “Still back in the tech room,” he lied, sending all the wild shit back into the seething dark. A wry smile this time. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Just checking that you’re not in outer space.”
“No way.” Dipping his head, he brushed her cheek with a kiss. “I know where I am and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He held up the rope, raised an eyebrow. “Ready?”
“As ever.”
A wicked grin. “Good enough for me.”
Taking her wrists, he swung her back around, swiftly bound her hands behind her, and with a quick, controlled movement raised her arms upward just enough so she could feel the tension in her muscles.
A gasp, then a small melting sigh as a completely new sensation coiled deep inside her and her sex began to throb and swell.
A familiar, recognizable sound of desire that struck a deep psychic chord. A physical one as well; his erection surged in response. Loosening the rope so her fingers were at the right level, he leaned into her, pressing his rigid dick against her hand. “You let me know when you want this.” His voice was soft, mildly taunting.
Yet dominant male in the husky undertones, the blunt directive unequivocal, as though the decision was completely his. And a strange rush of longing swept through her at his assumption of power, the feverish sensation bone deep, delicious, hot, and impatient. She quivered, nodded.
“Talk,” he said, a warning note in his voice.
“I want it, you, everything, please,” she said, swiftly because the edge in his voice was raw, and if she wanted him, he had expectations. The rope around her wrists was only the beginning.
“I can smell your pussy,” he murmured, ignoring her reply. “And your nipples are already stiff and hard.” His voice dropped in volume, turned into a whisper. “You have no patience. We have to fix that.”
His quiet assurance was both a lush invitation to play and annoyingly confident. But her body was purring and pulsing in a mindless, out-of-control, sex-addicted rhythm, so her voice shook a little when she said, “Speaking of patience, what’s the deal with your rock-hard dick?”
“Not your problem,” he said, without glancing up from adjusting the rope on her wrists. “I’m your problem.”
She tried to turn and protest, but he held her firmly, jerking the ropes on her wrists higher, and her objection died in a sharp inhalation as a fiery flash of lust exploded in her sex, blazed through her senses, and laid out the welcome mat between her legs in hot, messy wetness.
His nostrils flared at the distinctive scent of arousal. “You’re going to give every male within a mile a hard-on. I’ll have to make sure you’re locked up tight.”
She barely heard him because every inch of her skin felt as though it was bathed in warm sunshine, her sex tingled and glowed, sweet desire enfolded her in bliss. “No,” she murmured, but she was half smiling, in the grip of inexplicable passions so intense she was beyond rational thought, automatically raising her arms to his nudges as he quickly wrapped the silky, sweet-smelling hemp under and over her breasts, his hands moving smoothly in tandem. As the pressure on her breasts increased, she opened her mouth to complain, but Rafe gently massaged her nipples and she shut her eyes and purred instead.