Part 27 (1/2)

Nash's head went back, his face a mask of exquisite agony. Over and over she stroked him. Tormented him. Until he began to shake ever so slightly, the tendons of his neck straining. His eyes opened then, and his hands captured hers. ”Enough, wench,” he growled, pus.h.i.+ng them high above her head. ”You are here to do my bidding, are you not?”

Lightly, she laughed. ”But I love to torture you.”

With an almost disdainful grunt, he reached for something just beyond her shoulder. She felt rather than saw the cool silk draw taut around her wrist. Something like panic caused her to jerk, but he drew the silk tight with another sound of satisfaction. Her panic turned to something else.

”Stefan?” she whispered uncertainly.

”If there's any torture to be done tonight, my love,” he rasped, ”the doing of it will be mine.”

He had her other wrist now, bound tight to the first. Experimentally, she tugged on them, but the silken tie held fast. Still holding them high above her head, he bent down, nuzzling at her breast, then drawing it lovingly back inside his mouth. Xanthia moaned, her body arching involuntarily. In response, Nash drew the silk tie tighter still, as if to show her who was in command.

When she began to writhe uncontrollably beneath him, however, Nash rose to a kneeling position and looked down at her naked body, a wicked light in his eyes. ”Sit up, love,” he softly commanded. ”Let's have you on your lovely knees, hmm?”

Willingly, she did so. To her shock, he rose higher onto his knees, stretching their arms well above her head. She could easily have slipped the knot, but inexplicably, she did not. Instead, she looked up to see he was looping the silk tie around the highest slat in the wooden canopy. She felt enthralled. Oddly aroused.

”Stefan?” she said again.

He pulled the knot fast and drew her arms taut. Xanthia's breath ratcheted up a notch. She felt stretched out. Fully exposed. Again, she tested the knot with a little jerk. It gave but slightly, and yet it was not uncomfortable. Still, she was trapped on her knees. Naked. In the middle of Nash's ma.s.sive bed.

Nash slipped one finger into the thatch of curls between her thighs. ”Now you are truly in my power, my dear,” he murmured, indolently drawing the finger through her curls, up her belly, over her navel, and all the way up between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

”Yes,” she said weakly, watching his hand. ”I do seem to be your prisoner.”

He leaned into her, and opened his mouth over hers for a kiss which was invasive and possessing. ”Do you wish to be released from your prison, sweet?” he rasped, when his mouth left hers.

”No,” she said swiftly. ”Not...not yet.”

He laughed deep in his chest. ”You find this intriguing?”

Xanthia felt her face heat. ”I...I do not know.”

He let his lips play down her neck. ”You are a deeply sensual woman, Zee,” he murmured. ”You are curious, I think. I saw it in your eyes once before.”

”Yes...perhaps,” she admitted.

”There is nothing wrong with erotic play,” he said rea.s.suringly. ”Not if both partners wish it. And there is certainly nothing wrong with your curiosity.”

Xanthia's breath was coming rapidly. ”And do you wish...to play?”

”I wish only to please you,” he answered. ”The simplest act of lovemaking would please me, so long as you are my partner.”

”W-Would it?”

”I think you know it would.” His teeth grazed her throat. ”But I think, my dear, that you need a strong man in your bed,” he whispered seductively. ”I think that you want to be-shall we say, subjugated just a bit?”

”Yes.” The word escaped on a sigh before she could s.n.a.t.c.h it back.

He bent his head and lightly licked the hard, pink bud of her nipple. ”Do you know why, Zee, you want that?” he murmured.

”N-No.” But she did want it, and his words fired her blood like fine cognac.

He slipped one finger into her curls again, deeper this time. ”It is because strong women need strong men,” he whispered, easing his finger back and forth in the silken heat between her legs. ”You yearn for a man who can control you, who knows what you crave-and can give it to you.”

”Is that what you mean to do?” Her voice came out soft and thready. ”Give me...what I crave?”

”If you will let me,” he answered honestly. ”Will you?”

Xanthia looked up at the knotted silk. ”Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes. ”Anything.”

He pinched lightly at her nipple. ”Say please, my love.”

”Please.” She breathed the word into the gloom.

”Do you trust me?”

”Yes.”

”Good.” She felt his teeth nibble at her other breast, and her eyes flew open. ”But what...what are you going to do? Are you-are you going to...to do anything wicked?”

”Wicked?” he murmured. ”Oh, I hope so.”

”No, I mean...I mean like the things you told me about,” she whispered. ”Are you going to...to punish me?”

His hands slid round to lift and spread her b.u.t.tocks. ”Oh, that depends, my dear,” he murmured. ”Have you been a naughty girl?”

Xanthia closed her eyes and nodded. ”I think very naughty thoughts,” she confessed breathlessly. ”Ever since I met you, Stefan, I...I keep imagining wicked things. Wanting things. Things no lady ought to want.”

Suddenly, she felt the sting of his hand across her backside. ”Oh!” she cried, jumping But Nash's hand was already ma.s.saging her b.u.t.tock, easing away the burn. ”There, perhaps that will remind you to be good,” he murmured, rubbing her with both hands now. ”Will it, my love?”

They stood on their knees, bodies pressed together, with his c.o.c.k twitching impatiently against her inner thigh. A strange thrill had run through her at the instant his palm struck her flesh. She felt all quivery inside. Antic.i.p.atory. Curious. She licked her lips uncertainly. ”I think...I think perhaps I have been more naughty than you realize.”

He pressed the heat of his body to hers, his hands skimming restlessly down her back. ”Have you now, my sweet?” he murmured. ”Perhaps I ought to untie you, and just bend you over the pillows for a proper paddling?”

”No,” she said swiftly.

”No-?” The word was rich with curiosity.

”I like this,” she whispered. ”I like you standing over me. But I have been just a little bad. Like tonight. At dinner.”

He gave her a curious half smile. ”At dinner?”

Xanthia closed her eyes again. ”I kept watching you and...and remembering that first night,” she confessed, her voice dreamy. ”How we met. How we kissed. I kept thinking of your hand between my-well, of your hand...pleasuring me in the darkness-whilst all the others danced, never knowing what we were doing together. And I kept remembering how...how powerful your c.o.c.k felt when it brushed my body. How hard it felt beneath your trousers.”

”Oh, that was very naughty indeed,” he admitted. ”I think the best way to punish you is to torment you until you beg.”

”Oh,” she whispered, trembling against him. ”Oh, G.o.d.”

He was kissing her now, light, gentle kisses all along her cheek, and circling the swell of her b.u.t.tock with a gentle, certain touch. She lifted her face from his shoulder, and this time, she looked him directly in the eyes.

”I like this,” she said again. ”Your being...the one in control.”