Book 1 - Page 141 (1/2)

I feel him behind me. He takes my hair, pulls it into a ponytail behind me, and starts to braid it.

”While I like your pigtails, Anastasia, I am too impatient to be at you right now. So one will have to do.” His voice is low, soft.

His deft fingers skim my back occasionally as they work down my hair, and each casual touch is like a sweet, electric shock against my skin. He fastens the end with a hair tie, then gently tugs the braid so that I'm forced to step back flush against him. He pulls again to the side so that I angle my head, giving him easier access to my neck. Leaning down, he nuzzles my neck. Tracing his teeth and tongue from the base of my ear to my shoulder.

He hums softly as he does, and the sound resonates through me. Right down... right down there, inside me. Unbidden, I groan quietly.

”Hush now,” he breathes against my skin. He holds up his hands in front of me, his arms touching mine. In his right hand is a flogger. I remember the name from my first introduction to this room.

”Touch it,” he whispers, and he sounds like the devil himself. My body flames in response. Tentatively, I reach out and brush the long strands. It has many long fronds, all soft suede with small beads at the end.

”I will use this. It will not hurt, but it will bring your blood to the surface of your skin and make you very sensitive.”

Oh, he says it won't hurt.

”What are the safe words, Anastasia?”

”Um... yellow and red, Sir,” I whisper.

”Good girl. Remember, most of your fear is in your mind.”

He drops the flogger on the bed, and his hands move to my waist.

”You won't be needing these,” he murmurs and hooks his fingers into my panties and sweeps them down my legs. I step unsteadily out of them, supporting myself on the ornate post of the bed.

”Stand still,” he orders, and he kisses my behind and then gently nips me twice, making me tense. ”Now lie down. Face up,” he adds as he smacks me hard on the behind, making me jump.

Hastily, I crawl onto the bed's hard, unyielding mattress and lie down, looking up at him. The satin of the sheet beneath me is soft and cool against my skin. His gaze is impa.s.sive, except for his eyes which glow with a barely leashed excitement.