CHAPTER 32 #3
Immediately, he pulled off the blindfold, watching her exhale as her shoulders sagged.
Jannie didn’t like being deprived of sight. Noted and eliminated, albeit with disappointment.
He took her lips in a tender, thorough kiss until he was certain she had recovered from the blindfold. Only then did he drape it around her neck, crossing the ends at her nape to fashion a collar.
“It could be”—he moved behind her, twisting the ends to tighten it just enough— “a beautiful silk choker.”
He wrapped his free hand around her throat, his fingers splaying to also grip her chin as he squeezed with gentle pressure. “But I prefer to use my hand for that.” He rubbed her pulse point with his ring finger. “I can feel your pulse that way.”
She leaned back into him with a barely audible whimper.
An electric jolt arrowed straight to his groin. “Does my hand around your pretty neck turn you on?”
He knew it did but wanted to hear it.
She nodded.
“Use your words.” God, he could smell her arousal.
“Yes.”
He decreased the pressure slightly. “Good.”
Nuzzling just under her earlobe, he pressed a kiss there before reaching to grip her hips.
“All evening,” he murmured, “I’ve been wondering what you have on under this dress.”
Slowly, he lowered the zipper that began just above her tailbone, then pushed the fabric down, sending it pooling at her feet.
Immediately, he grew so hard, it pained him. “Jesus Christ.”
She wore white and blue lace underwear edged with red, made of the most delicate sheer lace he’d ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on.
Sexy as hell but, at the same time, elegant.
A triangle of lace lay on her backside, tapering to disappear between those cheeks he wanted to touch and lick and kiss and bite.
On closer look, the pattern was floral.
“Beautiful.” His fingertips traced the clusters of five-petaled white flowers. “This requires closer inspection.”
He swept her up into his arms. She made a little sound of surprise but recovered quickly and looped her arms around his neck.
He placed her on the bed with utmost care, as if she’d break if he handled her roughly. She didn’t scoot up or move over to accommodate him, just spread out like a starfish, her hands stroking the silk sheets.
She looked like a Norse goddess who’d materialized in his bed.
The trace of uncertainty in her eyes, however, made something tighten in his chest.
He leaned down, placing his hands on her knees, letting them glide up her inner thighs, exerting just enough pressure to urge her to open for him. “Is there a name for these flowers other than beautiful?”
“Bergfrue.”
“Never heard of it.” He stroked her, avoiding where he really wanted to touch.
Not yet. Not yet, even if it kills me. I want her comfortable.
“It’s the …”
His thumb grazed the crimson edging of the lace.
She drew in a shaky breath. “… national flower of Norway. The name translates to …”
He moved his finger slightly, stroking her gently, back and forth.
She shuddered. “M … mistress of the mountains.”
Mistress. Nick smirked. “Does it, now?” He parted her legs a little more. “What else?”
Her gaze moved from his chest to his mouth, then to his eyes. “Are you going to spend all night talking and asking me questions?”
“Not if you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t want you to.”
He paused, his grip firm on her. “What do you want, then?”
“I want you to show me what you like to do.”
His heart began to pound hard against his ribs. “You sure?”
“No.” She gave a nervous little laugh. “But I want to know you.”
His heart squeezed. “I have your consent?”
“Are you getting formal?”
“I want to be sure.”
She arched her back then, looking up at him with so much trust and anticipation that he almost felt the need to look away. “I’m sure.”
She glanced down to where the bow tie lay discarded at his feet. “Are you going to use that on me?”
“No.”
“What, then?”
“You’ll find out. Close your eyes.”
She didn’t close her eyes. Of course, she didn’t. “Aren’t you going to undress?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because tonight, it’s all about you.”
“But I thought—”
“Set aside everything you thought,” he said. “Just feel. Do you think you can do that?”
She cast a wary glance around the barren room, then up at the ceiling. “Promise not to hurt me?”
My God. “Jannie …”
What did she think he was going to do?
He looked down on her, her chest rising and falling, her eyes wide with something he never liked to see and hadn’t ever seen from her.
Fear. Jannie was scared.
His throat constricted, and he had the strangest sensation of something stinging his eyes. Suddenly, every idea of the ways he was going to tie her up went out the proverbial window, and Nick gripped her chin, leaning down to take her trembling lips with all the tenderness he could muster.
He gentled the kiss. “We can just stop now, beautiful girl. We can go home.”
“But …” She drew back, eyeing his gray pocket square.
“The best thing about BDSM”—he kissed her forehead—“is flexibility. We make the rules. I won’t do anything you don’t want, OK?”
“OK, but …”
He waited.
She looked him up and down. “You’re wearing way too many clothes.”
Nick blinked.
And then, he started to laugh.
Jannie tilted her head, her shoulders relaxing as a little smile dawned on her lips. The fire in her eyes ignited, burning brightly as his laugh quieted, and he looked at her, grinning.
“Too many clothes?”
“Yes. I told you I liked the sugar rush.”
Yeah, he remembered her telling him that he was eye candy.
He never did this any other way: always fully dressed, until he decided it was time to fuck or allow a toy to finish him off, and even then, he would only undo his fly.
But Jannie was no toy. For her, he would break every rule, and he was beginning to believe he would unhesitatingly burn the world down just to make her happy.
“Undress me, then,” he said in a low voice.
She didn’t need to be told twice. Rising to her knees, she motioned for him to come closer, and he did, expecting her to undo his jacket button.
Instead, she reached up and shoved her fingers deep in his hair, using it to pull his face to hers.
“You’re more addictive than flying,” she murmured, and as a rush surged through his whole body at her words, she pressed her lips to his. Her hands thoroughly ravaged his hair, while her mouth claimed his, kissing him senseless the way only Jannie could.
He let her take him, keeping his hands at his sides, not trusting himself to hold her lest he succumb to the animalistic urge to shove her onto the mattress, rip off that wisp of lace, and sink deep into her.
Still kissing him, she ran her hands down his chest, quickly unbuttoning his jacket. He shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor. Her hands went to his waist, yanking to unbuckle his belt. To his surprise, she left it like that.
“Yeah.” She looked him up and down, her eyes alight. “Unbutton your shirt.”
“Fast or slow?”
She smirked. “You know I like it fast.”
He smiled as he made quick work of the buttons. But when he started on the ones at his cuffs, she gripped his hand.
“Just like that. Leave it like that.”
“Is this your idea of undressed?”
“It’s my idea of hot.”
He took her hands and pressed them to his chest, right above where his heart beat, fast and hard, because of her.
“I want …” She hesitated.
“Tell me what you want.”
“No blindfolds.”
“Done.” Yeah, he’d already guessed that. A simple wrist tie should be enough for tonight. If he did this right, she might be the one to understand what this meant to him. He didn’t want to think about the consequences if he got it wrong.
“Lie down.”
She lay down on the mattress, drew her legs together, her arms stiff at her sides, and looked up at him warily.
He shook his head.
This wasn’t going to work.
“Come.” He extended his hand. “Let me show you something.”
Immediately, she grabbed his fingers, jumping off the bed as if it had suddenly turned into a glowing hot plate. Nick’s stomach clenched. He should have followed protocol, discussed everything clearly and in detail first. The only time he thought he’d skip that crucial step had backfired.
God, I’m an idiot.
He picked up the remote and passed it to Jannie, sliding an arm around her. “Press the green button.”
She glanced at him.
He placed a reassuring hand on the small of her back. “Go ahead.”
She did. A soft whir filled the room as the massive middle panel on the opposite wall turned, and the rope display came into view, in all its variety and color.
As it clicked into place, he watched her from the corner of his eye.
“Oh,” was all she said.
“First impression?”
“Not what I expected.”
“In what way?”
“It’s … a lot.”
He nodded. “And it can do a lot.” Nick stepped forward, taking her with him. “By limiting movement, attention is focused on the sensations that can still be felt, making them more intense and profound.”
“I see.”
“Remove hearing or sight or both, and it can be—”
“No.” Her tone was firm.