He made sure she didn’t have much chance to do so, by lacing on the hood that she liked so well. Her mouth softened as it had before, and he wished she was wearing that pink lipstick. He couldn’t resist the urge to touch her and to taste her, and barely kept himself from doing more.
It was titillating to bind her wrists and secure them, to truss her to her own specifications and with her compliance. The game was effective, as far as Ty was concerned. He wanted Amy already, but this tease was making him much more desperate to have her.
Repeatedly.
The space felt charged with sexual energy. He felt keenly aware of every breath she took, every glance she cast his way, and thought he could hear the nervous flutter of her heart. He could smell her perfume, a subtle floral scent, mingling with the leather that upholstered the room. He’d been certain she’d use the safe word, but when she was completely bound, he heard her quick intake of breath.
He smelled her arousal.
Then she asked for the nipple clamps.
Ty thought he would explode.
He savored the chance to fondle her breasts. Her nipples were already hard, but he remembered the lessons from the video and didn’t just caress them to be tighter. He pinched them hard a couple of times, as well, mixing the pain and the pleasure. Amy’s lips were parted and she was breathing quickly by the time he fastened on the first clamp. She shivered, from head to toe, licked her lips, then straightened for the second one.
There was heat coming off her in waves. She had to be slick and wet and ready. Ty could have tossed her over that box and stripped off her yoga pants, then given them both what they wanted, but there were rules.
His rules, ironically enough.
Tonight, it had to be about the sensation and the tease.
The sizzle and not the steak.
The fact was that he wanted Amy more than he’d wanted any woman in his life, and Ty already knew that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.
“I want you suspended,” he said, keeping his voice gruff. “So, that you swing from your bonds and are helpless to my will.”
She swallowed. “Yes, please,” she said, her voice breathless and uncertain. He was sure he didn’t imagine that she trembled just a little.
“And then I will spank you, my naughty Angel.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice more faint. Ty recognized that she needed some reassurance. Tender and tough. That was the combination. He let his fingers trail along her jaw, his thumb sliding over her mouth in that slow caress. She trembled, the fight going out of her body, and her mouth softened.
Invitingly.
He brushed his lips across hers and tasted her gasp of delight.
“But you must beg me first and convince me,” he murmured against her mouth.
“Please,” she said, then licked her lips.
He licked her lips and she shivered with pleasure. “Matteo,” he said, framing her face in his hands.
“Matteo,” she echoed, her throat working. “Please make me helpless and use me for your pleasure, Matteo.”
Her mouth was too enticing to resist. He kissed her again, lingering over the embrace, feeling her lean against him. It was a long, slow, sweet kiss that only got more intense, the way the best kisses could. “And then what, Angel?”
“Discipline me,” she demanded, her voice husky. “Teach me the price of being naughty, Matteo.”
“And then?” He claimed another kiss.
“Keep me captive and do it again.”
“You will not escape me, Angel,” he growled and she quivered in anticipation. “Do not move.”
“No, Matteo.”
He reached for one of the short chains secured to hooks in the ceiling and let it rattle as he unfurled it. Amy practically stood at attention. He fastened a leather harness to it, then belted it around her waist securely. Amy caught her breath and Ty lifted her to fasten the belt to the chains on her sides. He stepped back and checked that her toes just barely brushed the floor.
He gave her a push and she swung, powerless to stop herself.
The books said that being aware of the futility of the situation heightened the thrill.
“Fight it,” he commanded. “Break free.”
Amy tried, without success, and he saw a flush rise over her skin. Her mouth was open then, her breath coming quickly, and he could see the pulse at her throat.
He got the leather paddle and abruptly caught her ankles in his hands, then held them in one hand. He spun her around, pulled up her feet and smacked her bare soles hard. Amy jolted and shook, then Ty bent and kissed the bottom of her foot. He slid his fingertips across the bare flesh, following the smack with a caress, and she quivered.
She was practically humming and they’d barely started. They were complicit in exploring her fantasy, a delicious and forbidden one, and he felt an intimacy that he hadn’t anticipated.
He wasn’t going to disappoint her.
Ty stood behind her and closed his hands over her breasts again, teasing those nipple clamps. He could feel the anxious skip of Amy’s heart, but he knew it was a good kind of anxiety, an anticipation that he wasn’t going to disappoint.
“We have only begun, my Angel.”
“Yes!” she said, the word falling from her lips in a single rush.
“And what do you want?”
“More!” she declared. “Don’t stop, please, Matteo!”
When his own heart pounded faster, Tyler couldn’t believe that he’d been missing out all this time.
There was more to these games than he’d ever guessed.
* * *
It was a sensual adventure.
It was dangerous.
It was incredibly, utterly hot.
Amy couldn’t believe that her heart could race so quickly. She hadn’t known she could ache so hard for a caress. She didn’t know she could feel as if she was on fire from head to toe—and be kept in that state of delicious torment for what seemed like an eternity. Matteo knew her body better than she did. He urged her to greater heights of pleasure, then pulled her back. He mixed pain with pleasure so adeptly that she couldn’t keep them straight anymore. She was floating. She was in heaven. She was waiting for whatever he would do next.
Desperate for his touch.
She couldn’t stand the fact that there wouldn’t be any release for either of them, but Matteo had planned otherwise. She felt him step away from her and struggled in her bonds, disliking his absence for even a moment. The sound of his chuckle reassured her, but the feel of his hands on her body was even better. He stood behind her again, his breath in her ear and his warmth wrapped around her. There was no better place to be, in Amy’s view.
He was doing something, his hands moving in front of her, but she couldn’t see what. She had to trust him, and she was surprised to realize that she did. Then a rope went around her waist and was knotted securely. She was used to that, although she wondered what he had planned. She felt the rope brush her thighs, then his arm was around her waist. “Legs apart,” he commanded and she complied. She felt the rope pass between her thighs, then he spun her around and drew it up taut.
Amy gasped as what had to be a knot collided with her clitoris. Even through the cloth of her yoga pants, she could feel that it was the heavy jute. Matteo hooked the end of the rope through the loop already knotted around her waist, then tugged it. The knot drove against her, making Amy twitch with desire.
“Naughty Angel,” he said. “Now the punishment begins.” When he had pulled the knot against her, he bound the rest of the rope around the top of her thighs. She thought of a picture in the shibari book and was thrilled that he’d read her consent form.
“Struggle,” he commanded and Amy twisted. She couldn’t move the knot away, and in fact, every move she made only increased the torment. She caught her breath as it rubbed her just right and felt her color rise. It was infuriating that her feet were free but all she could do was kick them in the air. In a way, that made her feel
more captive.
He pushed her and she swung, completely helpless to do anything about it.
“Red light?” Matteo asked, and the direction of his voice revealed that he was walking around her.
And looking at her.
Amy smiled and arched her back. “Green light,” she gasped.
“You bad, bad angel,” he murmured, then the leather paddle cracked across her butt. Amy might have cried out because the pain was sharp, but Matteo caught her face in one strong hand and kissed her. She kissed him back, hungrily, desperate for more.
“You should know better than to surrender yourself to me,” he said, his voice rough. “Where do you think I got these tattoos, Angel?”
“I don’t know, Matteo.”
“Prison,” he growled. “Where violence is not a game.”
“You must have been innocent,” she said, but he only laughed.
“There are no innocents there.” The leather cracked against her butt once more and Amy gasped. This time, it was his fingers rubbing roughly across her lips and she opened her mouth to run her tongue across his knuckles. “There will be no innocents here when I am done,” he continued and her heart leaped. She nipped at his hand with her teeth and he chuckled darkly. “Wicked angel, I will give you what you have come for.”
His kiss sent fire through her blood, his need feeding her own. She wanted him, though she knew it couldn’t happen here, but her desire was so primal that she couldn’t think beyond it. Their kiss was open-mouthed, devouring, so furious that she moaned and he swallowed the sound. She felt his hand close around her nape, holding her captive to his kiss, and she reveled in it.
All too soon, he stepped back and she felt bereft.
She whispered his name.
“We count to twenty,” he said harshly then stepped back and spanked her again, the blow stinging and making her swing. Amy moaned from the depths of her soul.
Then another soul-melting kiss and his hands, his wonderful strong hands, roving over her.
Like she was a prized possession.
A captive treasure.
A hunger he could never satisfy.
Matteo stepped back and Amy braced herself, but it wasn’t enough for the smack across her thighs. She jumped and the knot pressed against her sex and she trembled with need even before he kissed her again.
Amy made it to seven, which she thought was some kind of miracle. When Matteo locked his hands around her head and kissed her that time, she came in a tidal wave of pleasure, bucking against him in her release.
That she heard him moan only made her orgasm last longer.
Then there was only Matteo, his solid strength, his warmth and power as he held her close and kissed her deeply. He swallowed her ecstatic cries and she was dizzy with the potency of his touch.
It was perfect.
Even before she caught her breath, Amy knew she wanted more.
“Bad Angel,” he whispered against her ear, his voice hoarse. “We must begin again.”
And she moaned, because he had guessed her desire so well.
* * *
Ty was raging.
He swam fifty laps, lifted weights for an hour, and still couldn’t put his desire for Amy out of his mind. He stood in his apartment, looking over the city, doing serious damage to that bottle of Scotch.
Amy had demanded Matteo’s phone number at the end of the session. Ty had stalled, astonished by her request, and she’d jammed a piece of paper with her number into his hand. She’d been so nervous that she’d left in a hurry and forgotten her earrings. Ty had taken them and now considered them, sitting on his counter beside the crumpled note.
Call me.
Fuck.
How was he going to give her back the earrings? He should turn them in at F5’s lost and found, but he wanted to make sure she got them back. They were elegant and simple. They were also 18K gold. Plain hoops with a little pearl dangling from each one. He had a feeling they might have been her mother’s or a gift from her parents. They were as eloquent an expression of Amy’s nature as the way she’d come trembling in his arms.
What had been in his head? Why had he pretended to be Matteo?
It was true what they said, that every lie led to another, but now he was caught in a tangle of his own making and unsure what to do.
How could Ty not have pretended to be Matteo? How could he have let any other guy play those games with Amy?
Telling her the truth now couldn’t possibly be a good thing.
Continuing the charade could only be a mistake.
Call me.
Ty replayed every minute of their private session and wanted her more and more.
Her orgasm had nearly finished him.
On the one hand, Ty didn’t know how he’d survived that hour without stripping Amy naked and giving her what they both wanted. He hadn’t lied to her: there was nothing more sexy than a woman wanting him. It had just about killed him to make her writhe—and come—but be unable to do more than that.
On the other hand, he hadn’t wanted their private session to end. It had seemed like an hour stolen out of time, when it didn’t matter that she didn’t know the truth about who he was and there was only pleasure to be shared.
But it did matter.
It mattered a lot.
If she ever found out he’d really been Matteo, she’d despise him.
If he apologized, would she be relieved or furious?
Ty hated having any deception between them. It wasn’t in his nature to deceive, and he knew he wasn’t good at it.
If Amy didn’t find out that he’d really been Matteo, she might pursue a relationship with his alter-ego instead of with him. The very idea was strange and troubling.
Surely Amy was more practical than that.
Surely Ty could make sure she was more practical than that.
He drained the Scotch. He’d buy a burner phone for Matteo and make sure.
Chapter Ten
Home again after the best hour of her life, Amy was exultant. She knew she should write, but she was too excited to sit still. Matteo had been everything she dreamed of, and more. Her sensual adventure and experiment had practically blown her mind.
She’d brought Ty’s flowers home the day before and they perched on her kitchen table like a silent accusation. He would be completely shocked by what she’d done.
It was almost worth telling him, just to see his reaction.
Almost, but not quite.
Amy eyed the flowers and felt guilty, as if she’d lied to Ty.
Although she hadn’t.
They were only having a fake date, after all.
Well, a few fake dates.
She squirmed a bit, feeling that wasn’t all of the truth, but there was no way she’d confess her secret desires to him.
Even though she’d called him a chicken.
Amy determinedly pulled out her pad of paper and got her pen. She had writing to do.
Inspiration had, after all, been fed by her research. Lothair was in agony, and only Argenta had the audacity to reach out and help him. Now, Amy knew how to make that scene better.
The castle was silent, save for the crown prince’s agonized cries. I darted through the corridors that led from the kitchen to the hall, following the sounds of his pain. As I ran, my outrage grew that not one soul lifted a hand to help him. They feigned ignorance of his suffering, and I knew that even if I had been commanded to do so, I would have defied that instruction.
No one should suffer so alone. I did not care what his sins had been
There were two flights of stairs rising from the hall, one on either side of the massive hearth. Dogs lay before the glowing coals on that hearth, though they were not asleep. I could see the gleam of their eyes and their readiness.
The crown prince’s cries troubled them, at least.
The stairs to the right were narrower and appeared to twist more, but his cries came from their summit. I shielded the candle with my hand and da
rted up the stairs. They were crooked and narrow, and the stone steps were cold beneath my feet. Near their base, there was dust upon them, and I glimpsed spider webs in the corners, and my indignation at the crown prince’s expense grew.
Who served him?
What was the merit of being the heir to the king, if he was shown no greater care than an abandoned dog?
The stairs seemed to be endless, winding high into the sky. I thought of the single spire that graced the keep, the tower that rose high above its squat companion, and guessed my destination. The air chilled with every step and the darkness seemed to grow. The crown prince’s shouts were louder and made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.
And that was before a chance gust extinguished my candle.
I stumbled and almost lost my balance, well aware of the long fall behind me. I gripped the steps, the shadows pressing against me on all sides. I felt my palms go damp and smelled my own perspiration.
My own rare nightmares have been of falling endlessly, the deepest of terror fed by the certainty that there was no one to pluck me out of the abyss. These stairs could have been my nightmares come to life. I was alone. No one would aid me. This was abandonment of another kind.
My spirit quailed and I might have huddled there trembling until the dawn, but the crown prince cried out again. He, too, was lost in an abyss that terrified him. My mother had always tugged me back to the light with her touch, arousing me from sleep and banishing my terror.
I could do that for the crown prince.
Someone should.
* * *
Ty went to the bookstore on his lunch. He wasn’t entirely certain he could face Amy and not give away the truth, at least not yet.
And he needed a new book anyway, one without any BDSM. Even one without any sex. A nice tidy thriller, with a diabolical serial killer and a sleuth who figured out the truth in time. That would be perfect.
He heard Jade’s voice when he walked into the store, but headed for the mystery section.
“It’s fabulous,” Jade enthused. “And it was six kinds of wicked for you to give me this much and not the ending. This is the best erotic romance I’ve read all year. I nearly died Monday night when I realized I didn’t have it all. If I’d had your number, I’d have called and woken you up.”
Simply Irresistible Page 19