Make Me Forget - Page 51

“You’re going to be such a challenge,” he said, his mouth setting into a grim line as his gaze dropped down over her naked hips and legs. “Now . . . let’s get you out of the rest of these clothes.”

He knelt in front of her, making a sweeping motion with his hand between her legs to capture both her skirt and panties. He paused with the edge of his hand against the panel of her underwear. The next thing Harper knew, he was looking up at her with blazing eyes.

“You’re very wet.”

“I . . . guess I was turned on . . . ,” she said lamely.

She was glad when he didn’t belabor the topic. Instead, he quickly and efficiently removed the garments and then took off her sandals. She began to raise her shirt, thinking to help him with the process, but he stood abruptly, towering over her. His hands grasped her wrists, stopping her.

“No. I’ll want to undress you for sex.”

“Every time?” she asked stupidly.

“Every time.”

He held her stare and reached for the hem of her shirt. He swept it over her head. There had been something in his eyes when he’d said those two words: every time. Whatever it was had locked her lungs.

He unfastened her bra and drew it off her arms.

“Lie back on the bed.” Despite the hypnotic smoothness of his voice, she sensed the coiled tension in him.

The luxurious duvet felt exquisitely soft and cool beneath her naked, heated skin. She reclined, propping herself up on her elbows and peering at him with a mixture of suspicion and arousal.

“What are you going to do?” she asked when he just stood entirely still, watching her. If it weren’t for the glint of lust in his eyes—not to mention his cock pressing against the front of his shorts—she might have thought he was entirely impassive.

“I’m going to use a device to position you,” he said calmly. He walked toward a closed door.

“Why can’t you just ask me to take whatever position you want?” she wondered out loud.

“I could,” he said, opening the door. She sat up slightly when he walked behind it and she could no longer see him. A moment later, the door tipped wider and he spoke as he came out of the unseen room. “And that could be gratifying, too, if you took those positions and held them of your own free will. But this”—he emerged carrying an indefinable handful of black leather straps and hooks—“will assure that you stay comfortable while holding the positions I want. Remember, Harper. All you have to do is tell me to release you, and I will.”

His stern, steady voice jerked her gaze off the contraption he carried. He’d seen her anxiety while she stared at the device.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“I don’t know,” he said, taking several steps toward her. “You either do or you don’t.”

Her nipples had drawn very tight, from the air-conditioned air, anxiety, or arousal, she couldn’t say. In the end, she said the only thing that seemed evident to her at that moment.

“I do,” she whispered. “I can. On this, anyway.”

He walked toward her, the device grasped in his hands.

fourteen

“It’s not as intimidating as it looks,” he told her, setting the bunch of black padded straps on the edge of the bed and bending to remove his shoes.

“Maybe to you it’s not.”

“You’ve never been bound during sex?” he asked, removing his socks without taking his gaze off her. He looked very . . . hungry, Harper realized.

“Just my wrists with some cheap handcuffs once.”

“Metal ones?”

“Yes,” she breathed out, her eyes going wide because he was lifting his shirt over his head, exposing his cut, muscular torso. She found everything about him delicious, but his round, steely biceps made her mouth water. They were power defined. She ate him up with her stare as he dropped the shirt carelessly to the floor. His smooth, golden brown skin gloved his muscles so tautly. She could bounce a quarter off his abdomen. He possessed the perfect amount of hair on his chest—not a pelt, but just enough to come off as one hundred percent virile male. Not that a thousand other things about him weren’t proclaiming that fact, loud and clear. She recalled seeing and touching his cock for the first time in the pale moonlight. He shaved his balls. Just the memory of how round and firm his testicles were, the sensation of the long, heavy shaft in her hand, and that succulent cockhead made her shift her hips restlessly on the bed . . .

“You okay?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

Tags: Beth Kery Erotic
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