by Chloe Harris
“You looked so perfect bent over that saddle with your legs wide and your bottom thrust into the air.” Reinier’s voice became dreamy. “Your perfect, warm-colored skin was waiting to be marked.”
“It stung, but then it felt warm, yet it still stung and it tingled and it made me dizzy and…” Thinking of it again now made her almost feel giddy. “And…it was more arousing than anything I’ve ever felt. It was…freeing…somehow.”
Releasing her hand, his fingers caressed her jaw then. “You were wonderful in the tack room, and there are so many more pleasurable things I want to show you.”
“May I ask…what might those entail?”
“Oh, but I find those things are so much more effective…” She felt the heat of his breath against the base of her neck and heard the smile in his voice. “If they come as a surprise.”
“But—” Remembering she wasn’t supposed to contradict, Emiline bit her tongue and fell silent.
Once more, the thick blanket under her moved. By the sound of it, he must have gotten up. She could hear his footsteps leading away from where she was. He was walking to the chaise. The mare’s whinny gave him away. Silence. Then he came back, and Emiline noted his stride had changed. It was more purposeful now.
What had he gotten from the chaise? Emiline licked her lips quickly. The whip?
She was sweet and irresistible in general, but now, as she lay sprawled on the blanket like a buffet waiting to be devoured, she looked magnificent. Reinier couldn’t help the grin of anticipation spreading over his face. In fact, he couldn’t wait to be the one to devour her, but he needed to control his passion, at least for a little bit longer. He had plenty of discipline, just not so much around her. But he would assert his impeccable control over himself now. It was all the sweeter if the yearning got to the point where it made one almost miserable.
Her chest heaved with the quick, shallow breaths she took, emphasizing the sleek curve of her breasts. Brave Lily, so eagerly awaiting her punishment. But whether it was her being punished or he himself, Reinier wasn’t quite sure. He was all too aware of the heat and scent of her body. His lust was nearly driving him out of his mind.
He had to make sure she wouldn’t touch him again quite yet. He was almost to the point where he’d disgrace himself by coming in his breeches. Maybe a cooling bath in the sea before he served her would do the trick.
He noticed that even though she was burning to know what he would do, she didn’t ask. She’d pressed her full lips together and her cute little fists twitched at her side. Reinier swallowed the low groan he felt watching her fighting her anticipation. Yes, part of the reason for what he was about to do was for his protection against her touch, but it was also for the pleasure he got out of playing his game.
“Kneel, Lily.”
The tone in his command was soft, but it was clear—at least he hoped—that he wouldn’t welcome any objection. Surprisingly, she complied without hesitation. She got up, wiggling her backside on her heels out of excited keenness or so it seemed. He helped her back into the shadow of the shelter. She’d sweat enough anyway, so there was no need to expose her to the hot afternoon sun.
“Open your knees.”
Yes. That one word rumbled through his mind with a primeval growl when she afforded the best view he could ever imagine.
Tightening his grip around the length of rope, he crouched down behind her. He reached in the basket for the sharp knife he’d pilfered from the kitchen along with the other item he’d found by chance there and that he’d perhaps put to good use. He placed the blade by his right calf.
“I am going to take a swim in the sea,” Reinier announced. “You’re too curious to let me do that in private, so I thought I’d keep you from removing your blindfold.”
“How…?” She’d turned her head to the side to speak with him over her shoulder, her voice hoarse, yet uncertainty swung with it as well.
“I’m going to tie you.” He said it matter-of-factly while already anchoring one elbow behind her back and wrapping one end of the rope around her upper arm just above the elbow twice.
She held her back rigid. Reinier paused.
“I won’t hurt you, Lily.” He accompanied his words with nibbling kisses from the back of her neck down to her shoulders, feeling her body become pliant momentarily. Her skin felt so balmy and supple under his fingers.
She let out a soft, capitulating sigh. Only then did Reinier resume his devious, but very pleasurable task.
He stuck two fingers under the rope, captured the longer end of it and pulled it through, then plucked at it until it created a nice loop. He quickly tied several links of crochet stitches until he reached her other elbow. He wrapped the rope around her arm in a loop and secured the loose end.
Looking over her shoulders, he was very pleased with the result. He’d made the knots between her elbows a bit shorter. It didn’t strain her shoulders, but still Lily had no choice but to thrust those wonderful, ample globes of her breasts out.
He inhaled, drinking in the sweet, musky spice of her arousal. But he mustn’t forget he wasn’t finished yet; he still needed to secure her hands.
Using the knife to cut the remaining rope off, he folded the rope in half, wrapped it around her wrists, palms together, twice, bent the loose ends across each other, passed one between the hands and the other between the lower arms, and finally secured the loose ends with a plain knot.
“Perfect. I can bathe in the sea now without having to fear someone’s spying on me.”
She chortled. “Careful. We don’t want your pale skin to get sunburned.”
Was she teasing him? Because if she was, he could punish her some more for it, but he was too disciplined to rub his hands with glee.
Reinier stood and started to shed his clothes quickly, then bent to retrieve the bundle from the bottom of their picnic basket. Timing was of the utmost importance now. Knife and bundle safely by his calf again, he knelt in front of her this time. One hand captured her chin, holding her neck arched, while the other went directly to her core. She was heavenly moist already. He loved that sensuality about her. She’d always become wet so easily.
“Audacious Lily. And here I thought you wanted to always be good, not to be punished any more than was necessary.” Chuckling menacingly, his fingers found her folds and parted them. He delighted in her high-pitched moan when he touched her and that even louder gasp as he thrust two fingers deep into her. She pushed back, riding his hand and sobbing for more.
Her head grew heavy in his hand; but he wouldn’t let it fall back, not now. He needed to see her every reaction as he stroked and teased her. Her juices were already trickling onto his hand and creaming his palm. She sighed with pleasure.
He left her, dragging his drenched fingers farther back to wet the tight opening there.
When one finger entered her taut hole, she caught her breath, her mouth slightly agape. Reinier was slow and very careful now. He wouldn’t want to hurt her in any way and certainly not in that way. He pushed into her a little more, retreated, then thrust forward. Her muscles fluttered around him just before they loosened for him. He stuck his thumb into her wet cunny and pumped into her, his middle finger farther back.
Again her head fell back and her breaths came in shallow gasps. Soon she groaned breathlessly, the sound moving slowly through his bloodstream and licking at his skin. Her hips ground against his hand. Her breasts swayed in time with the seductive movement of her hips. God, she was stunning in her passion. There was nothing more beautiful than Lily’s natural response.
Just when he wasn’t paying attention, she threw her head to the side until she caught his thumb between her lips and sucked at it with unmatched greed.
Reinier felt his cock twitch and saw the drop of anxious anticipation it wept. He had to stop now before he lost the last shred of control over his own body. So he retreated, unwrapped the bundle, and dried his hand in the linen that held the ginger root. Knife in hand, he quickly carved
a plug, measuring the length and width of it by his finger.
He’d have just a few minutes to cool off in the sea, but he hoped that would be enough for him.
Emiline found it a bit strange that he’d kiss her just once again, the gentle, intimate caress of his fingers at her center notwithstanding. When she heard him run toward the sea and a quick splash after that, she knew he was in the water, while something was still…well, stuck in her. Not that she minded, it was a very delicious feeling, knowing that he’d again placed something in her, never mind that it was not where he’d put those “treasures” the day before. It was rather delicious to know that he made sure she thought of him while he was gone. Although she’d have thought of him enough, being blindfolded and tied on top of that, kneeling there and waiting for his return. Even though—
Holy mother of…What had he done to her! She was suddenly on fire, burning up from the inside out. Her rectum seemed to tighten and expand all at the same time, to escape and to snuggle closer to that…that thing in her.
Merciful…Her sensitive nub was throbbing as well. She remembered he’d brushed his fingers over it just before he told her not to move and then had run off.
She wanted to wiggle, to get more comfortable, but each motion brought on the sensations even more. What was happening to her? She shouldn’t move, she knew, he’d told her not to move, but she couldn’t help it, it was…she was…
Then the stinging, burning sensation changed and it tickled through her body. Emiline had to suppress a moan as that terrible, wonderful feeling spread through her. Her whole body was suddenly pulsating with it, as if her skin, her muscles, her bones had become one big throbbing organ. She still burned, but with passion now, hot and fiery and so strong she thought she was going to drown in it. And she’d willingly drown; it was the most exquisite feeling she’d ever experienced.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, and joy burst through her with the force of a hurricane. That hot, pulsing fire left her body screaming for release, only she knew she wouldn’t find any. Not yet. Not just because her arms were bound and she was not supposed to move, but because…
Pleasure is not yours to take but mine to give. His words rang in her ears as she fought against wave after wave of the purest, most sublime state of lust she’d ever been in.
She heard herself moan at the fierce gush of arousal that pumped angrily out of her. She knew she was so hot, so ready, so primed that she’d just need a brush or maybe two and she’d find a short, temporary relief, but she mustn’t…mustn’t move…he’d know…he’d probably see…
Her ability to think coherently started to dissolve. But she hung on to her sanity by a thread. Soon he’d be back, she knew…she hoped…Another moan and she licked her lips, breathing heavily now…
“Are you wet for me, Lily?”
She groaned but couldn’t reply. Not with words, anyway.
His knees pressed against the inside of her thighs. The feel, the taste, the scent of him mingled with the salty breath of the sea on his body. Her famished senses soaked it all up. His arms wrapped around her. He was cool and wet. He rubbed salt water on her with his body. The droplets would probably evaporate in seconds as hot as she felt.
He bent her back in his arms and buried his face between her breasts as he cupped her backside. His fingers dug deep. Sucking at the tip of one breast, he shoved her up his thighs until her core was flush with his pulsating hard flesh. Her entire body responded, recognizing him, reacting with unmitigated need.
He found her drenched core, his fingers gliding over her folds in the smoothest, lightest touch. The shriek she let out instantly changed into a low moan from deep in her throat.
“Yes.” He almost hissed the word. “You are wet. Goodness, how wet you are.” His voice had degenerated. It was barely more than a sensual rasp now. She gasped at the anticipation in his voice. She could hear the triumph in it also.
“Now I’m going to take you, and you are going to come. With every long, hard thrust you’ll come. I’ll make you fly, Lily.” She moaned at his outspokenness but couldn’t wait for him to slake her burning need.
He shoved his rigid flesh into her fast. His arms slung around her, between her sides and elbows, then over her shoulder blades. The soreness in her shoulder she’d felt before was but a silent tingle now. His fingers dug deep into her shoulders from behind, while her secret muscles worked at him, tried to accommodate being stretched so unexpectedly.
Emiline could feel her nether muscles flutter and constrict around him some more. It was just as he’d said. Golden sparks flew before her eyes, blinding her in the artificial, complete darkness she was in. Her orgasm hit hard, and all she could do was give herself up to it, up to him.
She sobbed when he retreated, but he was in her again, and she saw lightning cut her mind to pieces. Her bones became jelly; she felt as if she were floating in a cocoon of thick, sticky syrup.
Another hammering climax racked her body. She didn’t think that unrelenting passion he’d created could ever diminish. She still wanted more. She couldn’t get enough.
With his next thrust, her whole body caught fire. The sparks singed her skin and danced before her inner eye. Like a shell shot out of a cannon she flew, up, up, high into the sky toward the blinding, golden disk of the sun.
His word was good. He’d delivered promptly.
That was the first thought Emiline could actually grasp when she had floated back into her body.
She lay on her side, her head higher than the rest of her body. She was no longer restrained. She blinked her eyes open with deliberate slowness. She didn’t think she could do anything quick at this point, anyway.
Emiline saw her hand. Fingers splayed on his naked chest. Her head rested on his shoulder.
Even though his skin was tanned, it was still somewhat lighter than hers. The contrast was striking. What had he said? She’d been incapable of replying then. He’d always loved marveling in the contrast in their coloring. She’d always loved that too.
Long fingers ran through her hair, gently massaging her scalp. She’d always loved when he did that. He’d loosened it, probably when he’d removed the blindfold and ties.
His hand left her scalp and came to lie on the small of her back. He brought his other arm up and captured a few curly strands in his hand. He splayed them over his stomach.
He’d always had a penchant for her hair, for her wild curls that no one could tame. She’d been unhappy with her hair—until she’d met him. Already the way he looked at her chocolate-golden mane was enchanting. His playing with separate strands of it was enthralling. He’d take a mass of her hair, bring it up to his nose, and inhale deeply; she remembered that also. He’d always been completely captivated by her hair. Now that she thought about it, she’d loved that too.
The fingers of his other hand caressed the small of her back with idle, languid movements. He didn’t speak, just petted and caressed her, placing soft, tender kisses on the crown of her head.
Drawing her leg up, she let it rest on his thighs. It was too much effort to disentangle the other one from his legs. She felt a smile flit across her face and get stuck there. Snuggling closer to him, she sighed. She felt indolent. And very contented.
Bending her neck, she looked up at him. He’d been watching her, and now that she’d made eye contact with him, he smiled too. It emphasized his delicately curved cheekbones. She saw her reflection in his eyes, those eyes the color of translucent, crystalline lime green draped around amber in the center. Full lips. Straight, elegant nose. Delicate cheekbones. Soft chin. He’d always looked much too beautiful for a man.
His lids lowered and he bent his head to her, stroking his tongue between her lips with exquisite gentleness. Emiline opened for him, welcoming him. Their kiss was unhurried but thorough. His tongue slipped between her lips, swirling around her own, tempting her to pursue it back between his teeth. His hand was moving with easy slowness across her back.
“How do you feel?
” His breath tickled her still-wet lips.
“Lazy,” she replied, wincing at hearing her voice as strained as it was. But the next moment she felt proud of it. It was a reminder of the ecstasy he’d given her.
She brought her mouth closer to his again for another one of those wonderful, languorous kisses. Emiline had always loved his kisses, no matter what kind. Heated and famished or slow and deliberate, they were all superb.
But his hand cupped her cheek and he broke their kiss much too soon. “Really?”
She nodded, snuggling even closer, burying her nose between his neck and shoulder, inhaling deep. Lilac poppies and pepper—she’d always loved that contradiction in his natural scent—with the faint trace of salt. Not sea salt but his sweat. Something deeply savage in her responded to that scent, and her tongue snaked out to taste him. She moaned, his fragrance sending a shivering echo of what she’d just experienced through her.
Finally, she found the strength to brace herself on her elbow, head resting against her fist, and brought her other hand up to let her fingers trace the contours of his chin, the outline of his lips. One corner of his mouth kicked up and his eyes sparkled. That grin was probably mirrored on her lips.
“Don’t look so smug, Reinier. It was nice, I grant you that.”
“Nice, was it?” He guffawed. “Well, it took you long enough to come down again.”
“Very well, then. If you take offense at that word, how about ‘surprising’? Is that more to your taste?”
Turning his head a little more to the side, Reinier looked straight into her eyes. “I still don’t think it covers it completely, but I like it better.”
She sighed. “I have to say the last two days have been nothing but surprises.”
