Chapter 2 #5
“I’m all right,” she decided after a minute.
“Of course you are,” he said. He bent and kissed her gently. “Mmm, nice.” He took her lips again—longer, but still lightly, leaving her wanting more.
What would it feel like if he really kissed her?
“Now, let’s try this again.”
As she bent her knees, he scooped her up and squatted down to lay her on her back.
Oh, boy. The blue rug was fluffy-soft, the ground hard beneath it. She wiggled. The knowledge she’d have trouble rising with her arms pinned to her sides was a bit worrisome.
“You look gorgeous in rope.” Still on one knee, Atticus rested his forearms on his thigh. His gaze was warm, approval gentling his lean features.
She managed a smile. “It’s kind of nice. So is this it?” Would he release her now, having given her the “taste” he’d talked about? She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved.
“’Fraid I have more in mind.” He pulled another rope from his bag, this one a dark red.
“More?”
“It would be a shame to leave half your body without decoration.” With competent fingers, he created an amazing ropework of knots running down her left leg, then lifted her knee and secured her ankle to the blue rope around her hips. He repeated the process on her right leg.
Flat on her back, knees bent, feet widely separated. The provocative posture seemed as if she were waiting for a guy to settle over her. Another flush ran over her skin. Thank goodness, she still had her nightie and panty on.
“Better.” He surveyed his work, and a dimple dented his right cheek before he tugged on her baby doll top. Under the ropes, the silky material slid apart as he bared her breasts completely.
“Wait—” She moved to pull her nightie shut, and the ground fell away beneath her as she realized she couldn’t. Couldn’t prevent anything he wanted to do.
And anyone could see her. “They’ll—” Her voice died away. He’d positioned her behind a picnic table, which partially blocked any view of them.
“Figured you might be a tad modest, especially coming from the Bible Belt.” He rubbed his knuckles over her cheek. Still on one knee, he loomed over her, darkness behind him, firelight flickering over his tanned face. His cheekbones were high—his features sharply chiseled.
There was nothing soft about the man. He exuded a dominance that said things would go his way and all the control was in his hands.
“But hiding behind a table is all the modesty I will allow you,” he said in an even voice, holding her gaze with his. And then he traced along the rope covering her chest.
“Atticus,” she gasped. Her breasts swelled, and the nipples puckered to jutting points in the cool air.
His finger never stopped as it followed the ropes above her bared breasts and then below.
“Now, darlin’, you stay silent unless you really have to talk,” he murmured. He wet his fingertip and circled one nipple, the cooling wetness making it harden further.
Her toes curled under and a throbbing started between her legs. She realized she was extremely damp down below.
He stretched out beside her, propped up on one elbow. His free hand gently molded her right breast while his thumbnail scraped over the nipple.
She gasped as the exquisite abrasion shot straight to her clit.
“Nice.” He bent and nuzzled her cheek, his beard soft against her skin.
And then he claimed her mouth, his firm lips taking charge.
Surprised, she resisted for a second, then her lips parted, opening to him.
His tongue swept inside. Deliberately, he explored her mouth in a long, drugging kiss.
His hand continued to stroke her breast.
Her body craved more. As she wiggled, wanting to touch him, she realized again she couldn’t move. Couldn’t fend him off if she needed. He could do…anything to her.
More heat shot through her, and a moan escaped.
“Mmmhmm. The southern magnolia likes bondage.”
No. Surely not. But truth was truth. She’d never—ever—been so aroused. Thank goodness she still wore her bikini panty.
Only as he lifted his head, he ran his hand down her bare stomach and under the tiny excuse for coverage.
Oh my stars. She gave a cry—half protest, half desire.
He paused. Waited.
She should object. Nothing came out.
The sun lines beside his eyes crinkled…and he continued. When his fingertip grazed her clit, her hips jerked.
“Atticus,” she whispered.
One side of his mouth tilted up. “What did I tell you about talking?” His voice held both laughter and sternness. And without warning, he stroked right over her clit, his fingers slick and hot and firm.
Her cry drowned out the crackle of the fire.
“Mmmhmm.” He sounded as if he were taking notes, although his intent gaze contained enough heat to warm her skin. His finger teased her, up and around the increasingly swollen and sensitive nub. As if he had all the time in the world, he simply…played. Circles and taps, firm rubs, light caresses.
And each touch sent pleasure lancing across her nerves until need vibrated through her system.
Then he moved his hand away.
Her whine of protest made him smile.
“Soon, sweetling. First, let’s find out how you feel about pain.”
She stiffened, a tremor of anxiety running up her spine.
“Not to worry,” he said with a huff of laughter.
“I’m not a sadist. But pain can be a rewarding tool if used right.
” His hand stroked up her stomach, palmed a breast, and plucked at her nipple.
This time the sizzle was stronger, as if her awakened lower half was unable to fend off the urgent call for sex.
After teasing both nipples, he rolled one between his fingers.
Heavens above, the feeling… His fingers were warm, scratchy, and created a disconcertingly pleasurable pressure. Her eyes closed as her back arched upward.
“Look at me, Virginia.”
Half dazed with sensation, she opened her eyes.
He trapped her eyes, held them, as his pinch compressed and the overwhelming pleasure edged into pain. Everything inside her turned liquid.
Sweat broke out on her skin as her legs trembled.
“Oh yeah, baby,” he said softly. “You’re fun to play with.” He released her nipple and even as the blood rushed back in with a wave of heat, his attention turned to the other.
Pleasure, pain. The entire pavilion seemed to shake with her growing need.
Before she could recover, he lowered his head. His tongue trailed over her throbbing breasts before he sucked on one nipple.
His fingers trapped her clit. A light pinch there shocked her and her hips jerked upward.
He stroked the sensitive nub, working one side, then the other, and she swelled, tightened.
Each touch, each sucking tug on her breast, drowned her in sensation. Her body gathered, the pressure coiling deep inside. Wait. Here. No. And then the inexorable orgasm rolled over her, shook her loose from her mooring, and propelled her straight out to sea.
Nice. Atticus set his hand over the little submissive’s pussy—playing fair by keeping his fingers on the outside—but he could feel her cunt spasming. Under his palm, her jutting clit was softening. She’d grown even wetter.
Fuck, she came beautifully, and he damn well wanted to send her over again.
However, he’d pushed her enough for one night, even though he’d given her opportunities to quit if needed. She had been a bit unnerved near the end—but her body had won out over her mind.
He loved when that happened.
As he withdrew his touch, she made tiny enjoyable whimpers, then opened her eyes, still looking dazed.
He held her gaze and put his slick fingers in his mouth. Luscious honey, much like her voice. “Mmm.”
A second later, she understood what he was doing and an adorable redness rolled from her breasts up into her face.
Would she turn that same embarrassed color if he licked the taste straight from the source? If so, he’d have to make sure her hands were tied so he could enjoy himself at leisure.
When the last of the treat was gone, he ran his wet fingers over her rosy nipples, enjoying the way they pointed again. Yep, arousable more than once. A man would be able to take her over and over. Make her come her head off.
There was more than one kind of sadism, after all.
But not tonight, unfortunately.
“Let’s get you out of these ropes, sweetheart.” He unknotted the ties from her hips down. Sure, he could have cut through them, but…hey, he wanted the excuse to run his hands over her some more. Soft and fragrant, enticingly rounded, with skin like the smoothest of satins.
Been a long time since a submissive delighted him so well.
Her voice had gone husky, but the liquid smoothness was still there as she said, “Um, thank you, but this was awfully one-sided. I mean…”
Oh, he knew exactly what she meant. His cock throbbed as if it wanted to burst its own restraints.
“This night was for you, Virginia.” He rolled up the rope and tossed it onto his bag.
Gently, he straightened her legs, massaging her hips and knees, hearing the cute suppressed mewls of enjoyment she made.
Inhibited and yet not. Interesting contradiction.
“But…”
He stood her on her feet so he could undo the rope around her waist and breasts.
“BDSM is a give and take sort of play, but doesn’t have to happen all at once.
There are some times I take and take and take.
” Not many, he’d realized after Jake and Logan had pointed out what an idiot he was.
“Sometimes I give. And sometimes it’s both. ”
As he tugged at the knots, his knuckles brushed over her breasts. So fucking soft.
“But you must be, um, hurting.”
Wasn’t she a generous little cutie? “Yep, but I’ll survive.
Was worth it to see you enjoy yourself.” After unwinding the rope from her waist, he tossed it onto his bag with the other to be cleaned later.
Cupping her cheek, he kissed her lightly.
“You’ve been a good girl. Why don’t I get you a glass of wine while we watch the others finish up? ”