Christmas Down Under: Six Sexy New Zealand & Australian Christmas Romances

by Rosalind James

  Her face warmed. “That’s a nice thing to say.”

  “It’s the truth. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before.”

  He didn’t say anything else, just took the turning for his road, slowed the car, and pulled into his driveway. Mozart got to his feet and jumped up and down, and Owen got out to open the door and let him out.

  Skye got out too, heart pounding. Had he really just told her he loved her? Was he aware of it? He didn’t seem to be. He reached out to take her hand as they walked up the path, and when he opened the door and stepped back to let her through, his smile was warm and genuine. He didn’t look as if he was waiting for her to reply or comment on what he’d declared. Perhaps he hadn’t realized how it had sounded?

  If there was any risk of him falling for her, she should end this now, before they dug themselves even deeper into a hole. She hesitated, torn between what she should do and what she wanted to do. Then Owen turned and held a hand out to her. His eyes and smile were warm with a hint of naughtiness, and she remembered what she had planned for him. Later, she thought. She’d worry about the future at some other time—for now, she wanted to indulge herself in the delights of earthly pleasures and forget about everything else.

  She slipped past him into the house, leaving her overnight bag on the kitchen counter. The rooms were bathed in sunlight, and when she walked up to the sliding doors and opened them, the smell of honey from the manuka bushes poured through, covering her in summer.

  She closed her eyes and lifted her face up to the sun. “That smells good.”

  His hands rested on her hips, and he nuzzled her neck. “You smell good.”

  “Mmm.” She tipped her head to the side so he could kiss up to her ear. Her body hungered for his. Bathed in the December sun, she felt warm and sensual, ripened and ready for him.

  Turning, she caught the bottom of the netball dress in her hands, drew it over her head, and dropped it to the floor.

  “Whoa.” Owen’s eyes widened.

  Reaching behind her back, she flicked open the catch of her bra, then pulled the straps down and threw that onto the floor too. Finally, she slipped off her panties.

  He slid his arms around her. “That’s the quickest I’ve achieved an erection in fifteen years.”

  She chuckled and pressed herself up against him, feeling confirmation of his words against her stomach. “I want you, Owen.”

  “God, I want you too.”

  She kissed him, hot and wet, then took him by the hand and led him toward the bedroom. “Come on.”

  “Don’t you want a drink or something?” He clicked his fingers at Mozart as he passed him, who climbed into his bed and lay down.

  Skye shook her head. “I just want you.”

  “Fair enough.” He let her lead him into the room and up to the windows, then slid his arms around her waist.

  “Nuh-uh.” She pushed him back and grasped his T-shirt. “Naked first.”

  “I won’t argue with that.” He tore off the T-shirt, unbuttoned his shorts, and slipped them off too. Hooking her fingers into the elastic of his boxers, Skye pulled them down his legs, revealing his eager erection.

  Closing her hand around it, she stroked him a few times, loving the way his eyelids fell to half-mast and his lips parted. “Lie down,” she whispered against his lips, pushing him back.

  Nipping out to the kitchen, she retrieved the overnight bag and brought it back to find him stretched out on the bed, hands behind his head.

  “Your wish is my command.” He grinned.

  Fixing her gaze on him, Skye opened the bag and withdrew the two long silky scarves she’d packed that morning when they’d called in at the sleep-out to pick up her netball dress.

  Owen eyebrows rose.

  She climbed onto the mattress, knelt beside him, and trailed the scarves up his torso. “You know what I want to do with these?”

  “Ah…”

  “You trust me, Owen?”

  “Seriously?”

  She tipped her head to the side, amused. “No nipple clamps, I swear.”

  He moistened his lips. “I’m not sure about this.”

  Leaning over him, she lowered her head and gave him a long, lingering kiss. “I just want to tease you,” she whispered. “Tease us, actually. Draw out our pleasure as long as I can. Come on, Owen. Play with me?”

  He cleared his throat, then nodded. “Okay.”

  Her heart rate picked up. “Good.”

  “But if I see hot wax or anything sharp, I’ll run a mile dragging the bed behind me.”

  She chuckled. “Duly noted.”

  Looping the scarf around his right wrist, she tied a knot and then fastened it to one of the slats in the headboard behind him. Lifting his left arm, she did the same, tying it securely beside the other one.

  Finally, she sat back to look at her handiwork. He looked up at her, his face a little resentful at not being allowed to play, and wary at what she had planned.

  “You’re totally at my mercy.” She fanned herself. “God, that’s hot.”

  He gave her a wry look. “Are you sure you don’t want it the other way around? It’d be much more fun.”

  “Absolutely not.” She held his gaze and slowly licked her lips as she ran her fingers down his chest, trailing them over the St. Anthony pendant. “I have a few things I want to do to you first.”

  He didn’t say anything, just surveyed her cautiously, but she felt the thud of his heart beneath her hand, and his erection didn’t look as if it was going to disappear any time soon. He was excited by this. Good. She wanted to reward him for being nice to her.

  “First things first.” She took a black scarf out of her bag. “They say when you can’t see anything, your other senses are heightened. Let’s see if that’s the case.”

  Now he looked extremely wary. “Ah…not sure if I like that.”

  “Don’t be a wuss. Lift your head.”

  He did so, letting her loop the scarf around the back and tie it, but he muttered complaints the whole time.

  “Stop mumbling.” She sat back and took a good look, admiring his muscular arms and shoulders, and the very fine erection that appeared desperate for some action. “Wow. You look fucking hot, Owen. I am so going to do you now.”

  He blew out a breath. “You just want to torture me, don’t you?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “What did I do to deserve this?”

  She touched her lips to his. “Just lie there and enjoy it, honey.” Dropping her hand, she stroked his erection a few times.

  He groaned and pushed his hips up to meet each stroke. “Oh, Christ.”

  “Slowly, sweetheart. We’re going to draw this out for as long as we can. In fact…” She kissed him again. “You mustn’t come before I give you permission, okay? If you do, you’ll be punished. Do you understand?”

  “Holy shit. Skye…”

  “Do. You. Understand?”

  He licked his lips, a smile playing on them. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “That’s better.” She lifted herself off the bed. “I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Wait… What?” Owen went to sit up, forgot his hands were tied, nearly dislocated his shoulder, and fell back onto the pillow with a curse. Skye laughed, and her footsteps echoed as she left the room.

  “Shit.” Heart pounding, he crossed his fingers that she hadn’t left the house and run off again. If he called Mozart, would the Lab be clever enough to bite through the scarf? Probably not. He’d just think it was a huge game and lick him to death.

  In the kitchen, he could hear Skye moving around, talking to Mozart as she opened drawers and cupboards. If he shuffled up the bed, he’d be able to reach the blindfold and tug it off. Escape!

  He hesitated, though, chewing his lip. She’d clearly been enjoying herself. It had been lovely to see the seriousness vanish from her eyes and the beautiful smile reappear on her lips. Not wanting to spoil her fun,
he fought with his instinct to free himself and lay back, waiting for her to reappear.

  It didn’t come naturally. He felt vulnerable and exposed lying there naked. Adopting a passive role in lovemaking wasn’t normal for him. Usually, he directed the action, organizing the who, how, and when, and he wasn’t used to being done to. What did she have in mind? Hopefully, she’d taken him seriously when he mentioned the no pain instruction. That was a hard limit for him.

  “Don’t look so worried.” Her voice held a smile. He hadn’t heard her return, but now the floorboards creaked as she walked across the bedroom and climbed onto the bed. “Seriously, Owen. You’re going to enjoy this.”

  He moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. “If you say so.”

  Giving a husky laugh, she stretched out beside him. Her perfume reached out to ensnare him, and the heat of her body only an inch from his warmed him right through. “We’re going to play a little game,” she teased. “I want you to try and guess what I’m using to touch you.”

  “Okay.” Against his will, he tensed. One hint of a knife blade and she wouldn’t see him for dust.

  She chuckled. “Here you go. Ready?”

  Something touched the hollow at the base of his throat, then continued slowly down his chest. It felt about an inch wide, soft and yet slightly prickly, not unpleasant as she changed direction over his hips and continued down his thigh.

  “It’s a paintbrush,” he said, almost faint with relief.

  “That’s right.” She circled his knee. “Open your legs wider.”

  He did so, still uneasy at being restrained, but Skye moved the brush leisurely and gently up and down his inner thighs before stroking up his erection and returning to his chest.

  He cleared his throat. “I hope you’re not using the one soaked in white spirit.”

  “No, Owen. It’s new.” She moved it across his shoulders, up his arms, and tickled the center of his palms. “Are you planning on doing some painting?”

  “Yes, in the bathroom.” His voice sounded husky. He was beginning to relax, turned on by her sensual movements.

  “Mmm.” She moved the brush across his ribs. “You have gorgeous chest hair. It’s slightly curly.”

  “It’s permed.”

  “It’s not,” she scoffed, swirling it around his nipples.

  “Ahaha…that tickles.”

  She giggled and moved it instead to his navel. “How about this?”

  “Argh. Skye!”

  Laughing, she continued to brush a figure of eight across his stomach and hips, and leaned across to kiss him as she did so. “I like this,” she whispered against his lips. “I like turning you on.”

  “Torturing me, you mean?”

  “Mmm.” She sucked his bottom lip and grazed her teeth on it. “It gives me a sense of power. Mwahaha.”

  “Just remember that you’re going to have to untie me eventually. And I will have my revenge, probably when you least expect it.”

  “Ooh.” She gave a little shiver. “How exciting.”

  His lips curved up. “That turns you on?”

  “Everything about you turns me on, Owen.” She kissed him again, deeply, and he sighed and gave himself up to her, enjoying her wholehearted delight in his body as she nestled closer.

  “Okay, time to change implements.” She moved the brush away and reached across for something else.

  She came back to him, and he held his breath as she placed it on his chest. It felt like a point, and he tensed again.

  “Relax, Owen.” She touched her lips to his. “And enjoy.” Turning the item in her hand, she placed a flat edge against his skin and moved it down. It felt a couple of inches wide, and it flexed in her fingers.

  He blew out a breath. “It’s a playing card.”

  “Correct, you clever boy.” The card scraped over his ribs and down across his stomach.

  “You like talking to me as if I’m Mozart?”

  She nibbled his bottom lip. “I do. Behave and do as you’re told, and you’ll be rewarded with a festive treat.”

  “Mmm. I look forward to it.”

  “Not yet, though.” The card continued down the outside of his thigh. “Only when I say, remember?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Oh yeah. I like that. I’d make you salute too, but then I’d have to untie your hands.”

  He gave a short laugh, then groaned as she trailed the corner of the card up his inner thigh. How long was she going to torture him like this?

  The answer was: a long, long time. She continued to change the items she trailed across his skin, making him guess what they were each time. Once he realized she really wasn’t going to use anything that might make him squeal, he fully relaxed and began to enjoy himself, anticipating each new item with pleasure.

  She used the back of a spoon, which started cold and then turned warm as his body heated the metal, then a couple of strawberries from the fridge, which she shared with him after she’d trailed them over him. Her furry hairband was followed by a small rubber ball of Mozart’s that she rolled up and down his body.

  “Don’t squeak it,” he warned, “or he’ll want to join in.”

  Next was his electric toothbrush, switched on, which had his blood racing as she smoothed the vibrating base down his body, then ran it up between his thighs.

  The rapid pulses brought him the closest to the edge of all the items, and he had to concentrate on slowing his breathing. It was a new experience for him. Restraining himself had never been a problem before. Normally, he had no issues with waiting for his partner to climax one or more times before he let his tight control go. This was different, though. Skye was calling all the shots, and he had nothing to concentrate on except the sensations she was arousing in him. A girl had never done this for him before—never focused all her attention on stimulating him in this way. Women usually expected to be aroused as they tended to take longer to warm up, and that was fine by him—he enjoyed the process. And because he was turned on simply by lying naked next to a woman, it wasn’t a problem to ensure they were ready at the same time.

  But this… This was new. And by the murmurs Skye gave in his ear, and the way she pressed herself against him, it was turning her on too.

  The vibrating toothbrush nearly pushed him over the edge, though, and when she switched it off and put it down, he blew out a relieved breath.

  “God, I didn’t think you could get any harder.” Her voice held admiration, and her fingers closed around his erection and gave it a long, slow stroke. “Very impressive, Owen.”

  “Thank you.” His voice was little more than a squeak.

  She chuckled and lifted herself off the bed. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He couldn’t stop the groan that escaped him as he waited for her to return. What now? This wasn’t doing his blood pressure any good. If she carried on, his head was going to explode. Well, either that or another piece of his anatomy. She’d told him she’d punish him if he came. What had she meant by that?

  He heard her moving around in the kitchen, then a clink of something, followed by a splash of liquid. Was she getting herself a drink?

  She came back in and climbed on the bed. “I got thirsty,” she said. “Want a drink?”

  “Okay.”

  She moved closer to him and pressed her lips to his. To his surprise, liquid flowed into his mouth—whisky, well watered down, cooled over ice.

  “Nice?” she whispered.

  “Mmm.”

  “More?”

  “Yes.” His heart was racing again. This woman was so sexy, so sensual… Although at the beginning he’d hoped this wouldn’t take long so he could get to the good stuff, now he wanted her to go on forever.

  She pressed her lips to his again. This time, he wasn’t quite ready, and the liquid flowed over his mouth and down his chin.

  “Damn,” she said, and lapped at his skin, licking up the drips.

  “Oh, holy shit.”

  She laughed,
and then a wet finger trailed down his chest, followed by her tongue. He groaned.

  “If you like that,” she murmured, “you’re gonna love this.”

  She shifted on the bed, the mattress dipping as she leaned over him. Next, a cube of ice touched his lips. She pushed it into his mouth, but kept her lips over his. Accepting it, he circled it, then passed it back to her. Jeez, that was sexy. She did it again, but the third time, she took it between her teeth and skated it across his jaw to his ear.

  He shivered, and she gave an approving murmur. Moving on the bed, she slid the ice cube down his neck and left it in the hollow of his throat for a moment. Then she picked it up in her teeth again and trailed it over his clavicle.

  Realizing where she was heading, he held his breath, but it didn’t stop a jolt passing through him as she swirled it across his nipple.

  “Fuck!”

  She laughed, but didn’t stop, moving to the other nipple and doing the same, rubbing the wet cube across his skin until it puckered. By now, the cube had almost melted, and he heard her crunch the last bit before she shifted and picked up the glass again. Another cube?

  She shifted down, and cold shot through him as she placed the ice on his ribs. It slid to his stomach, then over his hips and down his right thigh. Then, it began a slow, tantalizing journey up his inner thigh.

  “Skye…”

  She ignored him and, still holding the cube between her teeth, slid it over his testicles.

  “Shit!” His whole body clenched, and it only got worse when the cube continued up his shaft. Before he could say anything, she crunched the remnants, and then her icy cold mouth clamped over the head of his erection.

  It actually took his breath away, and his hands tightened to fists where they held onto the slats of the headboard. “Ho…ly…fuck!”

  Skye burst out laughing, and then he felt her hands in his hair, and she was loosening and removing the scarf from around his eyes. He blinked and focused on her, his chest heaving.

  “All right, sweetheart?” She looked highly amused, and also turned on—her cheeks were pink, and her nipples were swollen, ready to be sucked.

  “You are so going to pay for that,” he said, panting.