Wedding Vow of Revenge(42)
He’d ceded control, but not power. How much control would he let her have tonight?
He started to help her with his trousers, but she pushed his hands away. “I want to do it all.” She peeked up at him, her breathing coming in ragged gasps that matched his. “Okay?”
“Whatever you like.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
She leaned over and took the tie off the bed. “Will you let me tie your hands?”
It was a fantasy she’d had for a long time.
Angelo had gone completely still. “You want to tie me?”
“Um…yes.”
“Why?”
“I want to know you trust me.”
“And your trust?”
“If I didn’t trust you, I would not have agreed to marry you.”
“I could say the converse is true.”
“You could, but we both know it’s not.”
“We do?”
“Yes.”
He eyed her for so long, she thought he was going to refuse and she was getting ready to drop the black tie. She wouldn’t push it. She wanted him and he wanted her and really, she couldn’t blame him for being a little leery about her request. It wasn’t exactly your average wedding-night foreplay. He didn’t understand what motivated her—she needed to know he trusted her. Baron had never trusted her, because he knew how untrustworthy he was. He always had to be in control.
“Do you want my hands in front or in back?”
Her head snapped up at the question, her mouth dropping open in wonder. “You don’t mind?”
“I trust you, stellina. Do what you like.”
He was so darn strong…even acceding to her wishes, she sensed that he was still in control here.
“B—” She had to clear her throat. “Behind you please.”
He turned around, his trousers undone and hanging low on his gorgeous hips. Admiration and warmth flowed through her at his acquiescence.
“There aren’t a lot of men who would be confident or trustworthy, therefore trusting enough to let their lover do this,” she whispered.
“Not just a lover. You are my wife.”
She smiled. “Yes. Your wife.”
She pulled his wrists together and tied them, securing it with a bow. It would be very easy for him to undo it, but the illusion of his helplessness was more exciting than anything she’d ever done. Because it was accompanied by a very real faith in her.
She gently turned him back around and finished taking off his clothes. When she was done, she looked her fill at the incredible male perfection before her.
“The other night…”
“Yes?”
“You said if I kissed you there…” She nodded toward his erection. “You would lose control and come inside me.”
“Yes.”
“Can I kiss you tonight?”
“Yes.” This time the word came out more a growl and the hard male flesh in front of her bobbed its agreement.
She dropped to her knees and began her exploration with her fingertips. Velvet encased steel. There was no other description that she could think of for how it felt in her hands. She curled her fingers around him, caressed the full length and he groaned.
“Does that feel good?”
“You know it does.”
“For me, too.”
“I’m glad.”
She nodded and then leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to the very tip. He smelled so good, she nuzzled him, inhaling a fragrance unique to him that affected her every bit as powerfully as his earlier caressing had.
Then she tasted him and he made a noise like a bitten back shout. She wanted to hear him really shout and set about making that happen, using her hands and lips and tongue. His body shuddered and he tilted his pelvis toward her, making his need more than clear.
“You have to stop,” he said in a hoarse voice that told her more about how much he’d been holding back than anything else.
She tilted her head back and looked up his beautiful body to his face. Sweat had broken out on his brow and the flush of arousal had darkened his skin.
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
“And if I don’t want to?”
His arms moved and then the sound of a silk bow tie whispering to the carpet could be heard. “I will have to make you.”
She would have grinned, but she was too excited and her mouth was too busy trying to suck in much needed oxygen. He understood her game exactly.
He had trusted her enough to give her control and put him in a pseudo-submissive position, but he was also strong enough to take charge when she needed him to.
“Come up here.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“My legs won’t hold me,” she admitted, knowing the only reason she was upright was because she was kneeling.