Blind Man's Bluff

Excerpt

ADULT EXCERPT

He loosed the knot from her robe, tugged it from her shoulders. She wore nothing else beneath it but a matching bra and panty of bright coral silk trimmed in creamy lace. “Did you think of me, miss me?”

The silk whispered its way to the floor.

“Yes.” More than you’d ever imagine.

“I can smell your arousal.” One hand drifted down her torso to trace the scalloped edge of her panties. Just the tips of his fingers brushed the upper curve of her thigh then dipped underneath that V of lace and silk to stroke her slick folds. “So wet for me. So ready.”

She whimpered.

She whimpered again when his hand fell away, and she felt him pull back. Without his warmth, she shivered.

She heard the rustle of him shedding his clothes and unwittingly held her breath, the interminable seconds ticking by in her mind as loudly as a drum.

“Feel like playing tonight, my slave?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Something extremely luxurious—possibly fabric of some sort—brushed the upper swell of her breast. “That depends on what you have in mind.”

He laughed low and throaty. Suddenly, her arms were seized and pulled behind her, thrusting her chest up and out. “A little light bondage,” he suggested as casually as one might suggest a stroll in the park, an afternoon of careless fun. “Nothing painful, my slave, you have my word.”

“And we have the safe word.”

“Absolutely. Use it and I’ll untie you in a heartbeat.”

Curiosity got the better of her. “What will you use?”

“This is the belt off your robe,” he explained, once again running the luxurious strip of silk over flesh that instinctively flushed. “Nothing rough, nothing too tight to mar your creamy skin.”

“I’ve never been bound.” The idea did thrill her. Like the mask, she imagined it would add the element of helplessness, giving him complete control, only heightening the pleasure.

And if she was wrong, then one word would call it. Game over.

She took a deep breath. “Tie me.”

A growl of approval rumbled in the room, and he began to weave the strip around her wrists and partway up her arm. He tested the series of knots with a few gentle tugs and pronounced it good enough. “Not too tight?”

She wiggled her hands. Circulation was good. “No. It doesn’t hurt. Any chance of losing the blindfold?” When he laughed, she said, “I thought not.”

“Now, don’t pout. Don’t you enjoy the mystery?” He was in front of her now, on his knees as he tongued her navel. “I can be anyone you want me to be. Imagine whoever you choose tasting you. Touching you.” Strong, wide hands circled her waist and squeezed before gliding lower to her hips. “Teasing you,” he said. He nipped at the damp scrap of silk covering her mound.

The rasp of wet fabric and demanding lips made her quiver. Her legs trembled as he brought her to orgasm just that way—without ever removing her panties. Damn, he’s good.

He slowly dragged the soaked, musky-scented silk down her hips, her legs. His mouth retraced the journey upward, paying special attention to the insides of her knees, her thighs. With one last lick up the length of her swollen pussy, he began an assault that led to the valley of her breasts.

There was the snick of the front clasp opening and the rush of cool air over her skin. Her nipples drew impossibly tighter, so hard they could have been used to drive nails. The points throbbed for the moist heat of his mouth.

As if sensing her desires—or perhaps they simply matched his own—his lips found her, latched onto one aching peak. Back and forth he laved and plucked, sucking all too briefly at one nipple before darting back to the other. He plumped her breasts in his palms and nuzzled his face between them, scraping the skin with his stubble.

The added sensation was exquisite.

And all too soon, it was over.

“W–what—why?” she was grappling for words. “More…Please, I need…” She went to reach for him and struggled like a fish wriggling on a hook because of her bindings. Forgot about those.

“Let’s turn you around,” he said and took her by the shoulders, guiding her where he wanted. “Now, bend forward. That’s it.”

His hand splayed across her lower back, easing her down until her face met soft, cushy material. The sofa? Chloe turned her head, pressing her cheek to the fabric. Yes, definitely the sofa.

“I’m going to rearrange the bindings,” he informed.

He rid her of the bra and allowed her the chance to rest her arms a minute. Then he tied them again, this time wrapping the length from elbow to elbow and stretching across her lower back so that they were bound at her sides with her hands free.

“Now.” His voice was smug. “This time you aren’t going to come until I give you permission. Understood?”

She had only to utter the word “gardenia,” and he would release her. Plus, she’d come to trust him. He’d had plenty of opportunities to hurt her before now, and there’d been nothing but immeasurable bliss. “Yes, Master.”

He knelt behind her, his breath hot and tantalizing on her exposed folds. “Spread your legs a little wider. Perfect.”

His idea of “perfect “put her face down in the sofa, elbows tied to her torso, legs spread wide, ass up. Oh, yeah, just—holy mother of…perfect—his greedy mouth started eating at her swollen flesh again.