It’s hard, but I resist the urge to strip her bare, throw her on the bed, and sink into her here and now, reminding myself of why she’s here. And why I am, too. But, damn, physical contact is only heightening my hunger. I just want in on her body. I want in on her mind.
Resting my chin on her shoulder, I walk us forward toward the bondage horse, feeling her fingers weaving through mine where my hand rests on her tummy. I flex my hold, squeezing her hand in mine, an uncharacteristic show of reassurance. But it feels natural for me to ease her, and I’m in no position to question it now that I’m touching her. Her heart is pounding so hard I can feel it sinking into my chest.
Wait. My steps falter when realization dawns.
It’s not her heart.
It’s mine.
“Okay?” she asks quietly, glancing back at me. Her question is forgotten the moment her eyes come into view. Sparking eyes. Eyes overflowing with a craving that I can relate to.
I don’t answer, breaking away from her warmth. “Stay there,” I command curtly, fighting to get myself back on track. I collect a blindfold from the cabinet and smooth it through my fingers as I move back to her, questioning my intention to cover those eyes. She doesn’t move a muscle, doesn’t object or try to see where I am. She remains still as I tie the ends securely.
Am I trying to avoid her eyes? To hide the sparkle that’s working its way under my skin?
No. This is simply to heighten her senses. This is me and what I do. Jesus, what’s with all the analyzing? I shake my mind clear and push on, reaching for the hem of Raya’s camisole and pulling it up over her head. I drop it to the floor, my eyes not leaving the expanse of her back. No bra. I swallow and lower the zip on the side of her leather jeans, revealing the first glimpse of black lace. My fingers brush her skin, and heat sweeps through me like wildfire. Another swallow, except this time I step back to gather myself. Deep breaths.
I push my shoulders back, ignoring the shooting pain, then take a long inhale and try again, reaching for the waist of her trousers and drawing them slowly down her legs. With each inch of her skin that’s revealed, my breathing becomes more and more shallow, until I’m completely holding my breath. Her parted lips and shallow pants as she kicks her heels off and steps out of her trousers tell me I’m succeeding in fulfilling her request already. She’s forgetting. It’s beyond me why, but it makes me feel accomplished. Happy.
I’m forced to take another moment, rising and stepping back, away from her, gaining some distance. It doesn’t work. The electric energy being generated by our close bodies continues to sizzle and crack. It’s debilitating, my head and body in chaos. I just can’t help but wish I knew what I’m helping her forget, and it’s taking everything in me not to demand an answer to the question that’s buried itself deep in my brain. These reactions I’m having aren’t normal. I don’t like them. But I can’t seem to stop them.
I wipe my brow with my forearm and refocus my attention on getting myself naked, my hands shaking through my task. I glance down at my cock, stifling a moan at the sight of it weeping. This has never happened before. I know if I wrapped my fist around the base, only one stroke would have me gone. I’m renowned for my endurance—my control, my pace, my cool approach. What is this shit? I growl, pure frustration, and yank Raya’s black lacy knickers down her legs, pulling a small cry from her with them. It’s just a sound, a sound of anticipation that I’ve heard from hundreds of women before her, yet from her mouth it’s the most powerful aphrodisiac I’ve ever encountered. As potent as her naked body before me. More commanding than her skin begging for my touch. Almost as dizzying as the questions swirling in my mind.
I stalk across to the sideboard and grab some cuffs and a spreader bar, having a stern word with myself. When I make it back to her, I drop the bar to the floor and it lands with a thud, making her jerk a little. Placing my palm in the center of her back, I push her forward until her front comes to rest on the horse. She’s bent over it, her arse on perfect display. “Arms above your head,” I order, and she complies immediately, taking her wrists up to the hoops at the end. I round the horse, my eyes on her face as it rests on the leather pad, her full lips parted slightly. I unbuckle the cuffs and secure them over her wrists, giving them a good yank when I’m done. “You want me to stop at any point, just say the word.”
“What word?” she asks breathlessly.
I smile to myself. “Stop, Raya.” I sweep her hair off her face and lower my mouth to her cheek. “The word is stop.” My tongue licks up her temple, my eyes closing in bliss. “I want to hear your pleasure.” I slide my hand into her hair and fist it. “Make sure I hear your pleasure.”
She nods, her torso rolling.
My fisted hand softens and caresses her hair, and I take in her serene face as I tie her hair up, wanting to admire every angle. “Good girl.” I collect the spreader bar and kneel behind her, nudging her legs apart. Once again, she follows my order without question or objection. She’s perfect. So perfect.
I fix the bar between her legs, adjusting it wide. The spread of her legs makes them seem longer, more lithe, more amazing. I drag my fingertips up the backs of her calves, behind her knees, under her supple thighs. My soft touch earns me a whimper, and I stand back, relishing the sound as well as the vision before me. She’s laid out bare and restrained. For me. Sacrificial. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. So beautiful, I just stand for a while, admiring her.
I take backward steps to the sideboard so I don’t lose my view, grabbing a condom and blindly slipping it on. Heart pumping, I swallow and place myself behind her, taking my hand to her nape and dragging it down the center of her back. My touch elicits a ripple of her spine and a low, happy moan.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so desperate to put my cock in a woman.” My finger traces the crease of her tight arse until it finds her passage, the small muscled ring tensing. “Relax, Raya,” I order gently, working my finger in circles. “Just a thumb.”
“Oh God,” she breathes, the cuffs shifting.
My spare hand reaches for her nape and massages as I continue to work her arse, her body softening with each circle of my thumb. “That’s it.” I apply a little pressure and breach her opening, making her jolt. “Steady.” She starts to pant. “Breathe.” I push in farther, releasing her neck and grasping my throbbing cock, starting to slowly work myself. My groan is animalistic, almost a growl. “Remember what I told you, Raya?”
“I can’t remember a thing.”
I smile. Then I’m doing something right. But I still slap her across the arse for forgetting, a stinger of a slap, and she cries out, her legs buckling a little. “Try again.” My thumb pushes back inside her, no soft approach now.
“Hear my pleasure,” she pants, breathless. “You want to hear my pleasure.”