by Lucy Monroe
“I’m glad to hear that, baby, because my balls are turning blue from need.” He moved toward her, but she stepped away.
“The closet.”
“You’re teasing me.”
“Think of it as heightening your anticipation.”
“It can’t get much higher. I told you…my balls are about blue.”
“I thought that only happened when men got cold.”
“Or when all my blood is raging through my penis. Have pity, Beth.”
“In a minute.” She crossed the room with quick steps and opened the closet door.
It was a walk-in. Not a huge one. The building was too old for that kind of decadence. It didn’t take her long to mentally catalogue its contents, but she waited an extra minute before returning to the bedroom, just to tease him a little more. She planned on doing a lot of that tonight. She hoped his control was up to it.
Not really.
She wanted him to lose it, and she was going to try her darndest to make that happen.
She backed out of the closet and turned to the bed and stopped dead. The pillows were strewn all over the floor and Ethan was naked, lying on his side, facing her. He was everything she’d ever fantasized he would be and more. Her imagination could not have conjured such a look of hot desire in his eyes, particularly when directed at her.
She’d seen men who worked out, but she’d never seen a body as beautifully honed as Ethan’s. Golden skin covered perfectly sculpted muscles on a frame that dominated even that monster bed. At six-foot-three, he wasn’t the tallest agent at TGP. He wasn’t even the one with the most bulging muscles. Isaac held that distinction, but Ethan’s presence more than made up for it.
She could feel the tautness of his body from where she stood, not just see it. She could also feel the singeing temperature of his sexual need. She would have fanned herself, but she was frozen for that moment, her senses completely absorbed with the sight of his nakedness and the electricity crackling in the air between them.
He wanted her. He planned to have her. His green gaze and unself-conscious nudity exuded that certainty.
And she responded to it on a basic level that she had not even known existed inside of her. Her body called out to his in silent acknowledgment of his unspoken claim while something deep within her echoed the primal cry. Almost as if her soul recognized his and was reaching out to claim a connection.
Which was really silly because this was sex. Not love. Not even really lovemaking. Sex.
But the feelings were so intense, she could barely breathe. She could not move at all and her thoughts felt splintered like glass shards from a shattered mirror. She no longer looked inside herself and saw the old Beth Whitney, but broken reflections of a different woman emerging. A woman who was both sexual predator and supplicant. A woman who experienced life in the moment, not one who spent her time dreaming about the possible tomorrows to come.
A woman who could match the man lying on the bed with his big, hard penis jutting out from his body and no apology for it.
Pearly white moisture glistened on the mushroom-shaped head and she craved it. She wanted to taste that essence…to inhale his most private scent…to touch it and see if it was as silky as it looked.
“Like what you see, little Beth?”
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. But she wasn’t little Beth.
She started to undress. Slowly. Provocatively. As if stripping for a man was something she’d done many times before. When in fact she’d only done it once for Alan and had been so shy about it, he’d never asked her to do it again.
She didn’t feel shy now. Her body shimmered with wanton delight, responding to the hungry gleam in Ethan’s eyes in a way that was wholly new to her. She watched him watching her undress and reveled in the way his sculpted cheekbones turned dusky rose and his jawline hardened with desire.
Before, that kind of reaction would have paralyzed her. Frightened her, even. But she was not scared. Not of him. Not of herself.
Perhaps a little of that confidence came from knowing that establishing a sexual relationship for the sake of the case was important to Ethan. He wasn’t going to reject her and that gave her a sense of self-assurance she wouldn’t have had otherwise. Maybe it should bother her that she knew part of his wanting her was for the case, but it didn’t.
The truth was…nothing bothered her right now.
She felt so different. Like a butterfly coming out of its chrysalis. Each article of clothing dropped was like the silken cocoon she had to shed in order to unfurl her wings and fly. She would fly in Ethan’s arms. She had flown last night, just talking to him on the phone. Part of her was flying even now. Feeling a freedom she had never known, the energizing sensation of warm, rushing wind beneath her wings.
She was not herself, but more essentially herself than she’d ever been. She didn’t care if that made sense or not. She didn’t understand the transformation happening inside her and did not seek to. How and why did not matter in that moment.
What was happening inside of her was not intellectual. It was wholly primitive and as such could only be comprehended at the instinctual level. She knew it was right. She could feel how right this night was.
This moment was not about her yesterdays or her possible tomorrows. It was about now. Only now.
Her shirt fell away, whispering down her body like a lover’s caress. Ethan’s gaze caressed her bare flesh and goose bumps formed, though the apartment wasn’t cold. She undid her pants and pushed them down her hips before stepping out of them. Her feet were bare from when, at Ethan’s invitation, she’d slipped her shoes off on arrival.
Ethan sucked in a breath, his turgid penis bobbing. “Your panties aren’t any more than a couple of ribbons and triangle of lace. A tiny triangle. I can see your pretty dark curls around the edges. I like that.”
“I don’t wax.” She didn’t say it apologetically, though she’d often wondered if she’d be sexier if she did.
“I wouldn’t want you to.”
“Some men would…they like smooth skin down there.” At least she’d heard they did.
“Alan?” he asked, his voice almost a growl.
“Uh…he never said. I just heard it…from other women about other men.”
“That’s their fantasy.”
“Not yours?”
“You’re my fantasy, Beth.” His voice throbbed with masculine want.
“And you’re mine.” She brushed her hands down her sides, her thighs clenching at how that made her feel. Decadent. Sexy. Wanton.
He put a hand out to her. “So, come and get me.”
If she did, she knew the fledgling sexpot emerging inside her would surrender to his superior experience, to the need radiating from him. She couldn’t do that. She wanted more.
“I have a particular fantasy.”
His hand dropped to his front and he gripped the base of his shaft. “So you said.”
It was so sexy to watch him hold himself that she did just that, for several seconds.
Then she licked her lips and forced out the words that inner woman demanded. “I want to handcuff you to the bed.”
“You sure about that, Sunshine? I can give you a lot more pleasure with my hands free.”
“A different kind of pleasure,” she dared to say. “I’m sure, Stud. Absolutely positive, in fact.”
“Sounds like you know what you want.”
“I do.”
“All right then.” He flexed his shoulders, rolled onto his back and reached his arms above his head, stretching that magnificent body. “Go for it.”
Her throat went dry. He was amazingly gorgeous, but it was more than his physical perfection that drew her to him. His humor, his intelligence, his dedication to his country—to his job even—his intensity, his ultra-masculinity, they all made a potent package that was totally irresistible to her.
And his confidence astounded her. Because she could sense he still felt completely, one hundred percent in con
trol. He wasn’t in the least bit worried about being bound to the bed.
Her inner vixen cheered. She’d known instinctively he would be like this, that he would not feel vulnerable even in handcuffs. And that was what she wanted…what she needed. Not a man who sought to be dominated, or would even tolerate dominance, but one who would seek to retain control despite the handicap of captivity.
In order to let her own strength free without reservation, she had to face absolute strength. It was the only way.
She approached the bed, her heart beating so hard in her chest he should be able to hear it. It was no small thing to be living out the fantasies that had dominated her sensual thoughts for more than two years. Longer if she counted the fantasies she’d had before her dream-time lover took on Ethan’s face and body.
Part of her refused to believe this was really happening, that he was lying on that bed, willing to be bound…willing to be blindfolded if the sleep mask dangling off one horn meant anything. And she was sure it did. But she didn’t want to blindfold him. Not tonight. Tonight she wanted the built-up anticipation that came from him seeing what she was going to do…or what she wasn’t.
Climbing onto the bed on her knees, she leaned over him to snag the handcuffs from where they draped over the horn. They weren’t actually handcuffs, but wrist restraints made of black fabric with sturdy Velcro fasteners. They were attached by an adjustable belt of tight black webbing. Perfect.
He lifted his head and kissed her chest, running his tongue along her cleavage. “You taste sweet like sugar and you’re about falling out of that bra, baby. Why don’t you just take it off?”
She forced herself to lean away from that wicked tongue and the pleasure it was giving her. “When I’m ready. For now, why don’t you just enjoy the view?”
“Oh, I am. I surely am.”
She adjusted the belt between the cuffs to the right length, so his arms could rest comfortably on the bed but not have a lot of play for movement. Then, she leaned over him again. There were spindles as thick as the massive headboard lining its bottom half. She hadn’t seen them at first because of the pillows, but they were perfect for her needs.
She felt the heat of his breath against her breasts before the sensual slide of his tongue along the top of her bra cup.
She gasped, almost dropping the cuffs. “You’re supposed to be admiring the view, not licking me.”
“You said I could enjoy it. I’m enjoying this.”
So was she. She fought the urge to move her breasts so that one of her nipples was in line with his lips while she tucked the velvet-lined restraints around the center spindle. Then she secured his hands with the Velcro fastenings, all the while growing more and more aroused—both by her own actions and the way he was exploring the sensitive skin of her breasts with his tongue.
When she was done, she couldn’t make herself sit back, away from the temptation of his mouth. What he was doing felt too good, but this wasn’t the way she’d planned her seduction. She needed to take control. And soon.
A hand on the headboard for balance, she peeled down one side of her bra so her nipple was exposed to the air. It was already beaded, but even the gentle room temperature of his bedroom made it peak further. Or maybe it was the knowledge of what she planned to do.
Without warning him, she shifted so her nipple was right against his mouth. He made a feral sound in his throat and swiped it with his tongue. She moaned, arching her head back and pressing her breast closer to his lips. He licked the turgid, swollen peak again, and again, and again. His tongue swirled all around it, playing with her, teasing her and pleasuring her at the same time.
“Suck it,” she demanded, her need making her voice harsh.
He laughed darkly and did just that, taking her entire areola into the heated wetness of his mouth with an instant fervent suction. She had never known anything so intense. Pulses of pleasure traveled straight from her nipple to her womb, growing stronger and stronger until she felt every draw against the hard nub duplicated by a sensual clenching inside her uterus and vaginal walls.
She cried out. She thought she said his name, but her mind was fogged with bliss. He stopped suckling to nibble her, then he sucked again…then he upbraided her tender nipple with his teeth. The varying stimulations continued until she was shaking and near orgasm. How had she come so far from so little?
He nipped at her breast and then laved the same spot with his tongue and her entire body went stiff with preorgasmic tension.
Oh, he was good…and before tonight, she would have let him keep going, would have given into the pleasure shattering her insides. Would have welcomed it. But tonight she was a new and stronger Beth. A woman in control of her sensual journey and she wasn’t ready to climax.
She pulled her nipple free and her body screamed for her to put it right back where it had been having so much fun. In his mouth. She shook her head at herself and turned unfocused eyes to him when he chuckled.
But his expression was not filled with humor…only hunger. It took everything of the new Beth to force herself to tuck her breast back into her bra and settle back on her haunches beside him. His eyes filled with feral heat, and he leaned toward her.
Only he couldn’t reach her because of the restraints. He could lift his head and move his arms a little, but not enough to touch her or stop her from touching him. Just exactly what she wanted, she reminded herself even as her body buzzed with the need for culmination.
“You were close,” he gritted out. “Why stop, baby?”
“Because that’s not the way I wanted it to happen.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No.”
“What do you want?”
“You. Tied like this.” She surveyed her handiwork and a smile of anticipation creased her lips. “I haven’t even begun to have fun yet.”
“Not even begun, huh?” he mocked.
She felt heat steal into her cheeks and down her breasts. “Okay, maybe we started, or you did anyway….” She sighed with delight and looked him over again, letting her body thrill with sexual pleasure at the sight of him bound to the bed. “But now it’s my turn.”
He laughed, the sound husky and deep. “You look like a sweet little cat who’s found herself a bucketful of unattended cream.”
“You think I look like a cat?” She put her hands on his chest, to test her freedom to touch. It felt good.
He liked it, too, if the rumble of approval in his chest was anything to go by.
“I think you sound like a purring lion.”
“Do you think a sleek little housecat can tame a lion?” he asked musingly, his voice all innocence.
Her spine stiffened with challenge and she narrowed her eyes. “Why don’t we find out?”
“Why don’t we?”
And then she knew. As innocent as his voice had been, he had been challenging her. She would meet that challenge and she would show him that she was no tame housecat.
Without a word, she got off the bed and left the room. It was all she could do not to stomp in her bare feet. She would show him tame.
He didn’t call out and ask where she was going or why she’d left, and his lack of curiosity came off as another challenge to her. He didn’t believe she was leaving him permanently, which she wasn’t. But he wasn’t even worried enough to ask. Then she remembered her clothes were lying on the floor and she supposed he was smart enough to figure out she wasn’t going anywhere without them.
But that didn’t mean he knew where she was going or why she’d left. And he wasn’t worried, but maybe he should be.
She went into the spare room and rummaged in his sports equipment until she found what she was looking for. When she came back into his room, he was watching the door with a curious frown and satisfaction filled her.
Not so unconcerned after all.
She held up her find and his eyes widened for just a second before he wiped the expression from his face. Oh…he had tough agent who could face anythi
ng down pat.
She licked her lips, seeking the courage to voice her desires. In her fantasies she was pure vixen, but in reality…even the newly emerging Beth had her shy moments and asking her soon-to-be lover for this final thing was turning into one of them.
Taking a deep breath, she forced it and the words out in a rush. “I want to tie your ankles, too. Will you let me?”
Several seconds of silence went by before he answered. “On one condition.”
“Maybe I don’t want to grant a condition.”
He let his head fall back, as if he was totally relaxed, without a care in the world. Not even the raging hard-on still sticking up from his body in adamant statement of his desire for her. “Good luck tying my ankles without my cooperation.”
There was that. She nibbled on her lower lip and decided she wanted his cooperation. “What is your condition?”
“That as soon as you’re done, you kiss me.”
For some reason, that surprised her. Probably because what they’d already done seemed beyond kissing. He was naked, she was almost there and she’d been so close to exploding, her body still buzzed with it. “You want me to kiss you? That’s all?”
His head came up again, the expression in his eyes almost angry. “All? Woman, you have not got a clue. I’ve been craving your lips for two years. The little taste I got last night was not near enough.”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
He let his head fall back and spread his legs without having to be asked, but she still approached the bed with trepidation. Which made no sense, considering he was bound, but she thought he’d probably been in situations that looked a lot more one-sided and come out the winner. Tonight he was her sexual opponent and she was not about to underestimate him.
She relaxed a little though when he let her tie his first ankle to one of the spindles that matched the headboard. She moved to do the other, but stopped when his foot slid away from her. “You’ll keep your promise about the kiss?”
“I don’t break my promises.”
“But you do get doubtful of your decisions.”
She couldn’t stifle the laugh of incredulity that bubbled up. “We’re way past me changing my mind now.”
