He came even closer, close enough that she could smell a touch of something masculine, maybe sandalwood, mixed with wool and a touch of leather. It was unique and utterly perfect for him.
He tugged off his mask and reached downward, capturing her hands and sliding his fingers to her wrists. He held them in place, his grip firm. “Are you sure you want to know my weakness, Kitty?” He freed one hand and slid her mask off as well.
She lifted her head, letting the hood of her domino fall behind her down her back. “Yes. I should very much like to know…”
“All right.”
She stilled as his grip on her wrists tightened and she found her arms rising as he lifted them, higher and higher above her head until he could press them back against the rough bark of the tree.
She was trapped in his heat, held captive by a grip of iron.
But she was not afraid. Quite the opposite. Her breath quickened as she felt his body touch hers and he leaned in to her.
“This is one of my preferences, my dear. Holding you still. Controlling you. Making sure that whatever comes next is my decision, and knowing that you will submit to whatever I desire.”
“Submit, Max?” She whispered the words, since her throat was clogged by something hot and fiery that burned low in her body and was spreading rapidly from her toes to her eyebrows.
“Yes, Kitty. Submit. To me.” He cradled her cheek in his free hand, pressed himself completely against her, and kissed her.
Thoroughly, lazily, and with great skill.
~~~~*
The kiss was searing enough to ignite her slippers.
Kitty found herself all at sea when Max’s lips touched hers. To her surprise, flickers of something strange lit up her body, stirring, arousing, liquefying places deep inside. She was not inexperienced when it came to kissing, but this was far beyond her expectations of such a caress.
When he didn’t stop at her lips but plunged within, taking his time to learn her with his tongue and urge her to reciprocate, she was shocked to hear a low moan coming from her throat, a sound she could not have suppressed if her life depended on it.
The strength of him, holding her hands high and immobile, excited her; the hard planes of his chest squashing her breasts intrigued her. She took a breath, only to feel her nipples abrade against her bodice. As they hardened, she became excruciatingly aware of their sensitivity.
As if he knew, Max released her cheek and slid his hand between them, finding a swollen nub through the silk of her gown.
The cry she uttered as he rolled and pinched it between his fingers was beyond her ability to control. He swallowed it, taking her breath away, continuing to kiss her until she was dizzy enough to sway in confusion. All the while his mouth was on hers, his fingers busy at her breast and his body moving slightly against her, his thigh inching between hers.
She discovered she would like that to happen and managed to part her legs for him, lost in the sensually erotic feelings Max had awoken.
His leg moved, sliding into the gap, lifting enough to trap her as he pressed hard against her body, and her most sensitive places.
Once again, she cried out, a muted gasp of need.
He released her lips. “That’s right, good girl.” He released her breast and bent down to whisk her skirts skyward. “Pleasure, Kitty. It’s all about pleasure.” His hand reached for her, and she was shocked to feel moisture, her own liquid fire, dampening the skin on her thighs as Max spread it with his fingers.
Her breath deserted her as those fingers found places—skin, folds of flesh—places that made her tremble when touched, especially in such a skillful and caressing way.
She felt stretched as he still held her hands against the trunk; she could not move them even though she yearned to touch him in return. “I want…” she sighed out the words as his fingers began a rhythm that vibrated through her, bringing the onset of an odd and needy tension.
“I know exactly what you want,” he murmured. “And I will allow you to have it tonight. Our first night, Kitty.” He flicked at one spot between her legs and she jumped, shocked at the sensation, finding it exquisitely sensitive. It almost hurt. Almost, but not quite.
Her hips moved, an unconscious thrust toward his hand. “Max,” she breathed. “Dear God, Max…I can’t…”
“Yes you can, and you will,” he answered, his voice a command not a promise. “Trust me. And let go.”
She found herself fighting now, frantic to touch him, trying to loosen her arms from his hold. But the strength of his arms pressed her wrists and hands against the tree and imprisoned her.
His hand continued to move beneath her skirts, to abrade flesh that felt on fire, a wet and fiery inferno which permeated her entire body with shimmers of sensation. It grew and expanded, tightening her muscles, arching her spine and at last…at last it exploded, and Kitty cried out, a gasping sob of ecstasy. Her body contorted against him, spasms of savage and violent release ripping through her in waves, and finally leaving her limp, lungs heaving and her knees weak.
Gently, Max settled her, smoothing down her skirts, and slowly lowering her arms to her sides. Then he simply held her, letting the tree hold her upright as he tucked her head beneath his chin and ran his hand idly up and down her arm. “Breathe, Kitty. Just breathe.”
She shivered and he gathered her close, warming her with his heat.
They stayed thus for several minutes, Kitty still stunned by what Max had done to her with a mere touch. Her brain wanted to examine every facet, but for some reason she could do nothing but rest against him, inhaling his scent and finding it deliciously comforting.
Then she blinked. “Max?”
“Mmm?”
“Something’s poking me.”
“Well, yes,” he said, humor in his tone. “That happens when a gentleman finds a woman most attractive…”
“No, not that,” she snorted, leaning back and looking at him. “On the back of my calf.” She blinked again. “Something sharp…”
Stepping back with a frown, Max pulled her away with him, only to see a large chunk of bark sticking out from the bottom of the trunk, along with others in the area. He bent down, putting his hand on the tree to steady himself.
Which, given the immediate creaking sound, was an unwise idea.
“Oh no,” Kitty stared. “Max, get back…” She grabbed his jacket and pulled him toward her.
As she did so, the sturdy little tree against which she had leaned while enjoying an amazingly erotic interlude, sighed, cracked, and finally fell down with a sad whispery thud.
“We killed it,” she said. “We killed a tree.”
“Only a little one, thank God,” Max blew out a breath. “If it had been any bigger, it might have taken out half the windows in here. That would not have been healthy for the plants or us.”
“Still…” She couldn’t drag her eyes away from the sight of the once upright tree, now prone on the tiled floor and surrounded by a mess of leaves and twigs.
“It paid the price for your pleasure, Kitty. A great gift.”