Was he making her uncomfortable with his vows of love? He'd silence them, then. Anything for her. He just wanted her to know how he felt. "I didn't realize you were so eager," he murmured, lifting his head and dragging one hand over her breast and cupping it. Her nipple was pointed through the lacy fabric of her bra.
"Of course I'm eager," she said, her words sweetly sarcastic. "I've been throwing myself at you all day."
"Is that what the bikini was for? It covered less than this." His finger slid under the edge of one of her bra cups, teasing the skin underneath. "I liked it."
"That was the point," she said, her voice a little more breathless at his touch.
"To entice me? Minx." He kissed the delicate skin at her collarbone. "I am flattered. And, I'll have to make sure you're amply compensated for your efforts."
His hand slid under her back, and she arched, allowing him easier access to the clasp behind her. She was breathing rapidly, excitement coloring her skin a pretty, flushed pink. He undid her bra with one hand and began to push it out of the way.
"You did that rather easily," she murmured. "Lots of practice?"
"If you're fishing for answers, the one you seek is 'professionals.' No relationships. Just lots and lots of working girls."
"I . . ." She shook her head. "I can't decide if I'm appalled or amused. I thought you were a playboy."
"Only for show." He'd taken the odd girl with him to high-profile events when a date was required, but usually a friend of a colleague, and never the same girl twice.
"I'm just surprised. Professionals? Really?"
"They're easier than a relationship," he explained, sliding her bra up around her collarbones so he could admire her newly-exposed br**sts. God, they were glorious. All soft and cream and pink. "They require nothing more than a condom and money. If I had an itch that needed scratching, I'd call up a service that had clean, vetted girls and get it taken care of."
"You make sex sound like a business transaction."
"That's all it was," he said bluntly. "There was no emotion involved."
"And . . . with me?" There was a soft catch in her voice.
He leaned down and licked the slope of one breast, nearly groaning at the delicious taste of her skin. "With you, I'm making love. There is no comparison."
"Is it . . . weird that I'm glad? That there's no one else?"
Only if it was weird that he was glad of it, too, if only so he could be free for her here, now. "I never pursued anyone else. It wasn't fair to them if my heart was still yours."
"God," she murmured, and her body clenched underneath his. "Are you trying to seduce me with words alone?"
"No, I plan on using my tongue quite a bit." And to prove it, he took one lovely nipple into his mouth.
She moaned, arching against him, her arms pulling against the bonds over her head. The little tip was tight with need, and he swirled his tongue over it, teasing her. He knew the touches she liked the best-rough, quick licks on the underside of her nipple-but he wanted to draw out the pleasure. He wanted her entire body to quiver and ache.
His mouth worked on the one nipple while he shifted his weight, easing his body over hers. He wanted to press the entire length of his skin against hers, to rub his c**k against her sex and feel her rock against it. All in time, he told himself. He needed to pace himself. The most important thing was blowing Violet's mind. That was his goal.
He wanted to palm her other breast and work it even as his mouth worked the first, but he needed the hand to prop himself up on the bed. For a moment, he cursed his "great" idea of tying her hands up. He wanted nothing more than for Violet to touch him, to show that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Christ, he was dying for her touch on his skin.
As she wiggled underneath him and moaned, again he regretted his idea. He wanted Violet wild and writhing in his arms, fully participating. She was helpless while tied down to the bed-
Then an idea hit.
He pulled his mouth from her nipple, pleased with her murmur of protest. "Tell me what you want me to do to you, Violet."
Her gaze was unfocused, passion-glazed. "W-what . . . ?"
He leaned down and kissed her breast. "Do you like my mouth here?"
"Yes," she breathed.
"Then tell me where you want it next."
She stared at him for a long moment, as if incredulous that he was going to make her take the driver's seat. Then, she flung her head back and groaned. "Can't you just . . . wing it? You're doing great so far."
"I want you to lead me," he told her. "This is about your pleasure. You tell me where you want it, and I'll put my mouth there."