Eva’s cries mingled with his own as he worked himself in and out of her, gripping at rope and skin to steady them both against the severity of their responses. Drew felt accosted by pleasure, blindsided, and above all that was the urge to hold this woman even tighter than the ropes that bound her. He wanted to cover her up, tuck her into himself. Spin a web around her that would protect her from the world. And fuck her until neither of them could move.
“Drew,” she whispered. She was shaking, and he realized through his heated blur that she was crying even as she gasped with pleasure. But she didn’t say the words that would stop him, and only those words would have. Drew surged into her again and again, marking the rising pitch of her moans, the whiteness of her knuckles where she gripped the ropes restraining her hands. It dawned on him that he was in over his head, that he was in love.
Then Eva came, shuddering in a profound, almost silent ecstasy. It was too much to withstand, the rhythmic tightening of her cunt around him. He went over after her, shouting, startled and unwilling to let it be over. Undone, utterly undone, by what had gripped them both.
Trembling. Sticky. Sweat already chilling over still-heated skin. Drew lifted his head weakly to see Eva’s eyes were closed. Evidence of tears was still there in the blurs of mascara darkening her lids. He hadn’t even known she was wearing any makeup.
“Sweetheart?” For the first time in several minutes, he was coherent enough to worry that he might have pushed too far, too fast. “Are you okay?”
She took a second before nodding. Just that, no words. Perhaps she didn’t have any to fit the occasion, Drew thought. He reached over to his nightstand for a tissue to dab away the ruined makeup but stopped when Eva murmured, “Don’t let go. Not yet.”
So he lay back down and held her, even tighter than the ropes.
Chapter Seven
Why did that have to happen on a Sunday night?
Drew slurped a bit of foam off his second cup of latte, and the creamy sweetness only reminded him of Eva’s skin.
The mahogany of his desktop, cool but rapidly warming under his hand, also reminded him of Eva’s skin. And the sunrise that tinted the sky such a rosy, golden hue was exactly the shade of the gorgeous flush that suffused her face when she was aroused.
Drew looked away from his office window and tried to focus on the meeting agenda on the computer screen in front of him. When he started having lyrically lewd thoughts about the color of the red stapler next to the monitor, however, he pushed his keyboard away and swung his chair around to face his door.
It was hard sometimes, being the boss. This was his meeting, he couldn’t skip it or show up late. He couldn’t show up unprepared, either. For all his easygoing manner, Drew actually worked hard to make sure his employees were happy. He knew that showing up for a Monday morning meeting to a boss who had slept late and didn’t have a plan would make nobody happy. Least of all him.
The only thing that would make him truly happy at the moment, of course, involved Eva Godfrey and several hundred feet of well-conditioned rope. He still felt a lingering glow from the events of the previous night. He wanted to believe it was all about finally getting to tie the girl up and boff her, because that was simple. Drew liked simple. But even beyond that heady thrill was the lingering admiration for Eva’s bravery. Her willingness to try, her wholehearted commitment once she had agreed and the payoff that meant a great deal more than just sexual satisfaction.
Although the sexual satisfaction had also been mind-blowing.
“Is that your second cup already? Late night?”
Annabelle, his chief operations officer, was standing in the open doorway of his office, looking rumpled and sleepy and extremely casual in snug jeans and a tattoo art t-shirt. She held her own cup from Starbucks in one hand, a tablet computer in the other. She didn’t look like a Harvard MBA with a wall full of computer-related credentials, or like a woman who could lead a team of high-powered consultants into a Fortune 500 company and revamp their entire workflow, but Drew knew she was all that and more. She intimidated the hell out of him at times, in fact, when she put her game face on.
Yawning hugely, Annabelle slumped into one of his guest chairs and put her Converse-clad feet up on the edge of his desk. Drew lifted an eyebrow but allowed the feet to remain as he accepted the tablet she pushed his way.
“A bit of a late night, yeah. What’s this? Budget?”
“Yep. I was playing with some numbers to see if we can afford one of these things for everybody in the office without messing with Christmas bonuses. End-of-year bonuses, I mean.”
“Whatever. Do you think it would be worth it?”