Power and Possession(85)

And missed his satisfied smile.

While she was floating in her soft lustful haze, Rafe checked the underarm hitch with a finger between the rope and skin, cinched the line, then slid two perfectly placed half-hitches under her cleavage. Smoothly turning her, he wound the ropes in quick, sure movements, before standing back and cupping the underside of each tightly bound, jutting breast. Slowly raising his hands, he watched her arch her back to offset the pressure, then, deliberately continuing the upward motion, he forced her up on her toes.

“Feel that?” he whispered, his fingers sinking into her soft flesh, holding her balanced on the balls of her feet.

“God, yes,” she said so softly, the sound scarcely moved the air.

Her cheeks were hotly flushed, her constricted breasts mounded high in their rope harness, her nipples swollen and taut, her desire so flagrant, pearly moisture was trickling down her thighs.

Down boy, he warned his dick.

This wasn’t about a fast fuck.

This was about her submission.

And his power.

As he slowly lowered her back on her feet, she panted, “Please, I can’t wait. I need you now.”

“Not yet.”

Her eyes flew open, stormy with frustration. “When?”

He smiled down at her. “When I’m ready.”

Her eyes narrowed; she tilted her head back. “Fuck you, then.” Her voice was clear and cool, all entitlement and attitude. “Untie me.”

He grinned. “Does that usually work?”

“Always,” she snapped, her resentment back full force. “Not that I’m usually”—she tried to wiggle her shoulders—“in this goddamn predicament.”

“Glad to hear it.” It surprised him, how much it pleased him. “And you’ll like it when I finally let you come, pussycat, you really will.”

“What I’d like is your dick inside me.” Smooth as butter, a smile, trying another angle.

A flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I’m working on that.”

“God, you piss me off,” she said through gritted teeth, domination all well and good up to a point. But she wanted to come now. “You said you’d stop if I asked. Consider yourself asked.”

“I didn’t say I’d stop. I said, no problem. And it won’t be.”

“It is. Already. A huge. Problem.” Enough outrage in each carefully pronounced word to shrivel most men’s balls.

A relaxed half smile. “Jesus, you’re so damned cute. Always in charge.” He dipped his head, so his eyes were only inches from hers. “Now, I’ve got a little advice for you. Don’t fucking move or you’ll never come.” His hooded gaze watched her for a moment—fixed and cool—and when she looked away, he said, smooth as silk, “There’s a good girl,” and reached for more rope.

She breathed in his unlimited power, the deep complications behind the cool gaze, the edge of trouble beneath the beauty, and rather than fear, she felt the white fire of arousal blaze higher, felt a flood of desire drench her sex, felt both a sweeping embarrassment and leaping pleasure.

She could call herself every kind of idiot for wanting him so desperately, but it didn’t change the brightness of her need; she wanted his inked dick deep inside her.

Urgently.

Intent on his own rough desires rising like ghosts from his past, Rafe tied a double line rope in a knot at her cleavage, measured out three overhand knots, and slid one under Nicole’s ribs, another on her silky pubic curls, the third on her clit hood, held it gently in place, then less gently, and watched Nicole shudder and drift off in a soft, pale daze.

“Look at me.” His finger on the clit knot pressed a little harder, and, ignoring her tiny shriek, he said more sharply, “Look at me or I won’t let you come.”

She sucked in a fast breath that burned off the daze, her blue eyes so hot he didn’t bother to hide his grin. “See. You’re learning.”

“I’m going to kill you.” She was pissed to the bone.

He laughed. “Take a number. Now pay attention. It gets better.” Leaning close, he slid the rope between her legs, spread her pussy open with the pressure, then ran the double rope up her back and fastened it to her wrists with a quick release tie.

He stood for a moment, gave his handiwork a swift up and down scan, then walked to the center of the bedroom and turned. “Come here,” he said. Beckoned. A flutter of his fingers. Waited.

She didn’t move.

He reached up, pulled his T-shirt over his head, shook his hair back in place, unzipped his shorts, stripped them off with his boxers, and kicked his clothes out of the way. Gave her a big friendly smile.