He’s utterly still, drinking me in as I move closer, inch by inch. If not for the tension in his shoulders and the way he fists his hands, I might be foolish enough to think he’s unaffected. As long as I don’t look at his eyes, that is.
Hook stares at me like I’m the most treasured possession he’s ever acquired and he looks forward to examining me at length. That earlier flicker of insecurity, of wondering if he prefers me as I was instead of as I am, dies under that gaze. There isn’t a single doubt in my mind that Hook desires me exactly as much as he says he does. More, even. He holds himself so tensely, it’s almost as if he doesn’t trust himself to see this through, to allow me this game, before he falls on me like a starving man.
“Hook.” No, that’s not right. Not here. Not now. I lick my lips. “Jameson.”
His hands unclench and clench. “Tell me what you want, beautiful girl.”
There’s no going back now. Maybe there never was. I stop just short of touching him. “I want your cock. I need your cock.” Maybe I’ll regret this later, but I don’t care. I sit back on my heels and run my hands over his knees and up his thighs. “I might die if I don’t have it.”
I half expect him to topple me to the floor right then and there, but I should know better. Hook is made of stronger stuff. He catches my hands before they reach the front of his slacks. “No going back if we cross the line. You’ll be mine in truth.”
Part of me flinches away from the honesty ringing in his tone. I belong to no one but myself. I can’t go back to that, not ever again. “I’m yours in bed. Nowhere else.”
“Tink,” he says my name like he can already taste me on his tongue. “We’ve covered this already. You were mine from the moment you put that ring on your finger and said ‘I do.’ Crossing this last line only cements something we both already know.”
I’m terribly afraid that he’s right. “I’m scared.” I want to take the words back as soon as I voice them. The tenderness on his face isn’t enough to combat how vulnerable I feel.
“You should be.”
Before I can process that, he urges me to my feet and takes his time stripping me. Shock leaves me placid and malleable. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. It’s certainly not that I crave Hook’s hands on my body, crave the way he touches me as if every brush is a gift I’ve given him and that he’s taken as his due.
I finally find my voice as he slides my panties down my legs. “What the hell do you mean I should be afraid?”
“The very best pleasure is spiced with fear. Do you deny it?”
I start to do exactly that but force myself to stop. We crossed the threshold into a scene the moment I hit my knees. I chose this. If honesty is all but a detriment in the rest of life, it’s vital during this flavor of play. “No, I don’t deny it.”
He nudges me away from the bed. “Your safe word?”
It might be protocol to check in like this before every scene, especially with a new partner or new relationship, but I can’t help feeling like that’s not what this is. I speak through gritted teeth. “Pirate.”
“There it is.” He grins. “Can’t say I get tired of hearing it.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Without a doubt.” He rakes me with a rough gaze I can almost feel. “Stay put.”
He moves behind me, and I can hear him rustling around in something, maybe the locked cabinet near the wardrobes. I poked at it a bit when I was initially doing my explorations, but there was no key in evidence, and even I draw the line at breaking open something that obviously cost a fortune just for curiosity’s sake. Especially when I already had a good idea of what it contained.
A few moments later, he reappears with a long length of black rope hanging from his hand. Hook raises his eyebrows at me, but I clamp my mouth shut before I can give him the satisfaction of a response. I love bondage as much as the next kinky asshole, but Shibari is something beyond slapping a pair of cuffs on someone’s ankles or wrists. It’s a study in patience and slow-roll foreplay. I’ve played that way once or twice, but there’s a lot more trust involved than people expect. If I need to safe out, it’s not as simple as unclasping cuffs. It can take ages to get free, and Doms can be really freaking precious about anything that might damage their ropes.
My breathing picks up despite my determination to keep my reaction under control. Hook’s brows draw together, and now he’s really looking at me. “You’re not claustrophobic.”