Working Stiff:Casimir (Runaway Billionaires #1)(53)

Rox tried to comply. She really did. His hands loved her skin, holding  handfuls of her body like he was gathering every bit of her to himself.  His fingertips brushed her clit, and even over the silk of her panties, a  shiver tightened inside her.

She moaned.

His whispered shush near her neck floated along her shoulder.

He moved one hand behind her to unhook her bra. The straps slipped over  her arms. He caught the scrap of silk and tossed it near the growing  pile of clothes on the tile floor. Both his hands caressed her hips,  sliding under the lace of her underwear, and he worked them down her  thighs until they fell.

"Step out."

She lifted her feet, her high heels clicking on the rough tile. Cash flicked the panties toward the pile of clothes.

His hands roamed her naked skin now, caressing and almost pinching her  nipples and clit, always on the verge of hurting her but never quite  sliding over from intense sensation to pain. She swayed on her  high-heeled pumps, the only things that she was wearing.

A pinch to both her nipples shot a burst of pleasure through her, and  her knees buckled. Though she caught herself, his arms swooped around  her, and he lifted her to his bare chest.

She started to grab his neck, but Cash shook his head. Rox crossed her  fists over her bare breasts, and he took all of her weight with his  arms. He carried her as easily as if she were a kitten, looking into her  eyes the whole time. The dim, golden light turned his eyes impossibly  dark green.

Passion hummed in her blood, but being carried so easily made her feel  so small, so helpless. She laid her head on his shoulder, huddling  closer to him.

He lowered her, and her naked butt touched something padded. She wasn't  hanging on to his neck so she didn't need to let go, but she adjusted  herself as his arms withdrew.

Cash stroked her cheek, still looking into her eyes. "Lie back."

She reached and touched the bench beside her thighs. Her fingers found  rails along the side of the bench, and she held on as she leaned back.  Cash had a small smile on his face, and he watched her, seeming to  approve.

The bench-thing rose behind her lower back as she let herself lean back, but it bent down behind her as she lay back farther.

Rox glanced behind herself, unsure.

The bench curved back like a bridge, so that she would be bowed backward  across it. Between her legs, the seat of the bench had been cut away so  that someone could stand there, or whatever. At least the manufacturer  had thought that through.                       
       
           



       

When she turned back, Cash's eyes were inches from hers. He had leaned  over and was bracing himself on the rails to stare at her. The white  bandage on his left cheek glowed in the flickering lights. "Lie back."

"Okay." Her voice shook a little, but she inched backward, lengthening  her neck as she stretched across the bench. The leather upholstery  cooled her naked back. Her legs hung over the end, but she braced her  high heels on tile floor. Her head fell back. Blood rushed behind her  eyes, and she looked over her boobs at him.

Cash was still leaning over her, watching her lie back. His gaze  traveled downward toward her boobs and waist, and a glimmer stole into  his green eyes. As he looked down her body, he sucked one side of his  lower lip into his mouth and bit it.

Wow.

When he looked up at her, his grin reached all the way to his eyes, and  he leaned down and kissed her stomach without looking away.

Without thinking, she reached out and cradled his cheek in her hand.

He turned his head and kissed the heel of her hand, but then he held her  wrist and pushed up, still gripping her wrist. "I said, don't touch  me."

He pushed himself off her and walked around where she lay, holding her  arm in the air, and pressed her hand to the rail above her head.

"Hold on," he said, looking into her eyes again. "Don't let go. Stay just like that."

She nodded and held onto the cold rail.

Cash walked over to one of the cabinets, the one that was filled with twisted skeins of rope.

Rox watched him walk away. Light from the sconces shone on his bare  shoulders and the bulges of his back, and his tight butt flexed under  his suit slacks as he strode over to the case. She had watched that ass  for years, wanting to grab it. Now that she had had her hands all over  it, she knew that it was indeed as rock hard as it looked under that  light wool suit fabric that always clung to the hollows of his ass  cheeks.

At the rope cabinet, his fingers walked among the smaller knots on the  top row. The bright strands twitched as he touched them. He picked two  scarlet ropes, lifting them from their hooks, and walked back to her  with them clenched in his fist.

Cash stood above her head, and she watched him unfurl the ropes.

She pressed her lips together, keeping herself from asking what the heck he was going to do.

"Anything to say?" he asked.

Rox shook her head no. She wasn't going to invoke her safe word.

But she wanted to ask what he was planning to do with the ropes.

She didn't have to wait long.

He lashed her wrists to iron loops that jutted out from the sides of the bench just above her ears.

When he was done, he walked past her to her feet.

The ropes held firm when Rox twisted her hands, but they didn't tighten.  If she let her hands go limp, she couldn't even feel the ropes.

Down by her feet, Cash picked up her ankles and bent her knees to fold  her legs, and he gently spread her thighs until she felt some kind of  footrest through the shoes. He tied her ankles to yet more loops that  she hadn't noticed.

This felt very, very helpless. Rox swallowed hard and held down the snake of panic that had climbed into her throat.

Cash ran his hands up her legs and her thighs, stroking her.

Rox looked up at the ceiling, willing her hot eyes to stay dry. If she  let a tear leak out, he would see it, and she didn't want him to see.  She wasn't weak like that.

His hands on her legs, kneading and rubbing her flesh, that felt so very, very good.

"You're tense," he said.

Yeah. No kidding. She adjusted her legs as much as the ties would allow her.

He said, "For tonight, give up all your responsibility and control.  Don't worry. Let it all go. I'll take care of everything, lieveke. I'll  take care of you."

She should try.

Rox's body lengthened on the bench as her arms and legs relaxed.

Cash chuckled, massaging her legs and up her sides. "That's better."

Rox twisted her hands in the ropes and found that she could reach the iron loops. She clutched them like handles.

His hands roamed her legs, massaging her calves and the tops of her  feet. With her head hanging down the other side of the bench, she  couldn't see him unless she curled up, pulling on her wrists bound above  and behind her. When she tried, her arms weighed her down. Holding  herself up was exhausting, and her abs began to tremble within seconds.

Rox lay back while his hands traveled over her skin.

His strong fingers caressed her thighs, milking the tension out of them.  With each swipe of his hands, her body relaxed, until his hands began  to reach higher on her legs.

As his hands swirled, each rub brought them closer to her sex.

She began to anticipate each stroke, feeling his large, strong hands press her legs, run up her flesh, and she closed her eyes.                       
       
           



       

His strong hands rose up her legs again, and this time, he brushed his fingers over her folds.

Her body was still responding to him from when he was holding her in his  arms, still ripe from his touch, and a jolt blew through her.

She arched off the bench, and his chuckle floated through the air to her.

His hands firmed on her inner thighs, massaging, and his thumbs parted  her folds, barely touching her, giving her only the smallest of touches  when she craved much more.

As she sighed, and then moaned, he touched her more, stroked her more, teased her more.

One of his thumbs rubbed a tight circle over her clit, tightening her  body. The other pushed inside her, rubbing her there, deepening every  stroke.

She whimpered and tightened her fists on the handles.

Her body knotted, getting close. Her thighs trembled as she arched,  feeling every stroke. His relentless rhythm drove her closer to the  edge. Her breath rushed in her lungs.

So close.

His hands slowed, withdrew, and massaged her legs.

Rox opened her eyes. "Why did you-"

He was smiling over her bare knees at her. "No talking, or I will spank you."

Even though he was still smiling that intense, sly smile, his green eyes were perfectly serious.

Her abs started to shake again. Rox lay back on the bench.

Warmth touched her knee, something warm and wet.

She curled back up and tried to brace herself on her elbows, but she  couldn't quite get them to the table because her wrists were tied.

He had pressed his mouth to her knee, running his lips and tongue over  the inside of her thigh. His hand was braced against her other knee, his  forearm turned so she could see the tattoo of the three shields: the  red and white checkerboard, the one with the three crowns on a blue  field, and the last one-the one that always drew her attention-white  lion, aflame, on bright orange.