Chapter Seven
A flash of heat went straight to Angelica’s core at the audacious suggestion. To have Leo at her mercy, begging and pleading. She could walk away and leave him there…get her own back. But of course she wouldn’t have the nerve to do such a thing. Wouldn’t want to.
‘You’d let me do that?’
A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face and then it was gone. He nodded. A little devil inside Angelica made her say, ‘OK, then.’
She stepped back and dislodged his hand and put out her hand. He looked at it for a moment and then put his hand in hers. As Angelica led him to the bedroom, her insides swooping and fizzing, she felt some measure of control for the first time in a long time.
In the bedroom Angelica let go of Leo’s hand and turned to face him. Feeling bold, she said, ‘Take your clothes off.’
He arched a brow. ‘Please?’
‘Please.’
Angelica wasn’t sure if Leo would even comply. Maybe he’d come to his senses again and tell her to get out. But no, his fingers went to his bow tie and undid it, pulling it free and letting it drop to the ground.
Then he was undoing his shirt, button by button.
Had time slowed down? Stopped even? It felt like that to Angelica.
She couldn’t take her eyes off his long fingers, the chest he was revealing, inch by muscled inch.
The smattering of hair. The defined pectorals and then down, to the ridged abdominals.
His shirt was open and he pulled it off completely. It fell to the floor. Then his hands were on his belt. He opened it and then the top button. The zip. Angelica could see the bulge pressing against the material. Good. He wasn’t as cool as he looked.
Her breaths were coming short and shallow. She had to focus and suck more air in. His hands were on the sides of his trousers now and with one graceful movement he pushed them down, taking his underwear with them.
He stepped out of the pile of clothes at his feet. He was naked. Gloriously, unashamedly, naked. Tall, proud. Virile. Angelica’s gaze travelled over his form, relearning his body. Taking in that scar. The narrow hips. The hair at his groin, his erection. Long and heavy. Potent.
Muscled thighs. He was more ripped than she remembered him being. More densely muscled.
‘Where do you want me?’
Angelica looked up, her mouth dry. He was really just letting her order him around? It was heady, this feeling of power. Although she knew if he touched her any illusion of power would be gone in an instant.
‘On the bed, on your back.’
Leo went over to the bed, skin gleaming, muscles bunching and moving. He lay down on his back, one arm above his head. He said, ‘You should probably get protection from the bathroom now.’
Angelica kicked off the shoes and went into the bathroom, finding the box of protective sheaths. She avoided looking at herself in the mirror. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. She took two foil packages out of the box and got even hotter.
She went back into the bedroom and saw the bow tie on the ground.
She picked it up, not thinking too much about what she was doing because if she did she’d lose her nerve.
She put the protection down on the bedside table, noting that Leo glanced at it but without looking at his expression.
She knelt on the bed beside him and said, ‘Give me one hand.’
He lifted the hand above his head and held it out. He was even more intimidating up close, and definitely far more muscled than he had been. Prison. Her heart spasmed. She ignored it and took his hand, wrapping the bow tie around his wrist and tying a knot, then she said, ‘Your other hand.’
He dutifully held the other one out and in seconds she’d tied his wrists together securely. There was nothing else to tie them to, the headboard was solid wood.
He asked, ‘Where did you learn to do that?’
‘My father taught me. It’s a sailor’s knot.’ She didn’t want to think of her father now and the chain of violence that had ripped her family apart.
‘I’m feeling a little undressed.’
Angelica looked at Leo. Her slicked-back hair was no longer slicked back, it was falling around her face. She got off the bed and in one fluid move—because the dress was made of jersey material—she pulled it up and off.
Now she wore only underwear. She reached behind her and undid the bra. She’d always had bigger proportions than the other models—breasts, hips—and had made something of a name for herself as sexy, which had come at a time when she was still figuring herself out.
It was only when she’d met this man that the moniker had made any kind of sense and she’d felt it. And the way he was looking at her now, she could see his eyes burning and his hands in fists, tied together.
She tucked her fingers into her lacy underpants and pulled them down, stepping out. She was naked. She could feel her nipples pulling into hard, tight points. Her breasts felt heavy.
‘Come here, Angel, I need to touch you.’
She didn’t have the wherewithal to tell him not to use that name. The truth was she liked it. She’d missed it. She walked to the bed and climbed on, and knelt before Leo.
He came up before her, on his knees too, and they faced each other for a moment.
It felt, absurdly, almost spiritual. Then he lifted his bound hands and cupped her face and leant towards her and put his mouth on hers and then they were tumbling down onto the bed and all Angelica was aware of was the drugging, drowning sensation of losing herself in Leo’s kiss.
Their bodies were pressed togther, her softness against his harder planes. He put a thigh between her legs and the centre of her body hummed in response.
Leo was on his back and Angelica was draped over him. The fact that his hands were bound meant his movements were curtailed, but as much as she wanted his hands everywhere, she was also enjoying his obvious frustration, eyes glittering hotly.
He said roughly, ‘Come on top of me, Angel. I won’t last long… I need you now.’
She needed him too. Her body was aching to know him again.
First, she reached for the protection and then, with barely steady hands, she took it out of the package and knelt before him again.
Carefully, slowly, she rolled the protective sheath onto Leo’s body, aware of his hitched breathing, the hiss between his teeth. The way his hips jerked.
And then, she came over him, legs either side of his hips. She lifted herself, and, reaching behind her, she took him in her hand and guided him to where she was on fire. He breached her entrance and Angelica closed her eyes for a moment, hovering in that place between being full, and not.
And then, when she was ready, she slowly sank down, taking Leo’s body inside hers. It was all at once exquisitely familiar and new.
‘Dio, Angel…’
She looked down and, through her own hazy vision, she could see the perspiration on Leo’s brow and the almost fevered look in his eyes. She couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe at the sensation. It had been so long.
Slowly, she started to move. She put her hands on his chest and she could feel his heart pumping, in time with hers. Getting faster.
‘Yes, like that.’
It was a primal dance, and Angelica was swept along, at Leo’s urgings.
He lifted his bound hands and squeezed the flesh of her breasts, one after the other, pinching the peaks.
She leant over him, so he could put his mouth around her and suck the pebbled flesh.
Her hair fell around them in a curtain, and then, when she needed more, she sat back up again and Leo spanned his hands across her midriff, to her waist, holding her as best he could.
Their movements got more frantic as the climax approached and it took Angelica by surprise, mocking her belief that she had any kind of control, as she felt her body hover on the edge for a second before falling down and down into a pulsating, clasping ocean of pleasure.
Leo wasn’t far behind her, hips thrusting up, his body tight and taut as he too went over the edge and she could feel the release run through his muscles.
She thought she’d have his finger marks in her flesh like a brand as he sought to hold her still.
And then, with a hoarse cry, he sank back and all that could be heard was their ragged breathing. Their skin was damp.
Angelica couldn’t do anything else but slump over Leo and she felt him bring his bound hands and arms over her head and body to hold her against him.
She closed her eyes and fell into a dreamless place of peace and satisfaction, so profound, she knew even then that it was far too dangerous for her to analyse, so she didn’t.
At some point, Angelica woke again and found she was on her side, facing Leo.
His eyes were open. Their bodies were close together, close enough for her to feel him stir against her.
And then she realised that his hands were no longer bound because one hand was rubbing up and down her back and the other was between them.
‘How did you untie the knot?’
‘I never told you but my grandfather was a fisherman and taught me how to undo all the sailor’s knots.’
‘You knew the whole time.’
He nodded, a smile ghosting across his mouth.
Like this, Angelica could almost fool herself into believing the past three years hadn’t happened.
That they hadn’t broken up. That maybe, outside that window was Venice and the Grand Canal and if they could go back in time and she didn’t tell him she loved him then maybe—
He put a finger over her mouth. It still felt tender after his kisses.
‘Stop.’
She scowled. He’d always been able to see her brain whirring. She put her tongue out and tasted his finger before putting her mouth around it and biting gently.