Page 62 of Steal My Breath Away

“Do you like this position?”

“It feels very naughty,” I admitted. “I’m not used to being still.”

“I want you still, Haley. I want you restrained with your legs wide so I can see how much you enjoy what I do to you. I want to touch you, taste you, and drive you so wild you can’t think of anything but the pleasure I give you.”

My mouth went dry and my words, when they came, were barely a whisper. “I want that, too.”

“This is about trust. Do you trust me to give that to you, to take care of you tonight?”

The idea of being restrained was both terrifying and thrilling, but this was Ace, and I did trust him. I knew he wouldn’t physically hurt me. I’d never done anything truly adventurous in the bedroom until Ace came back into my life, and I was willing to go wherever he led. “Yes, I trust you.”

Ace climbed off the bed, leaving me bereft. “Do you have anything I can use to tie you up?”

“Scarves.” I lifted my head in the direction of the dresser. “Top drawer. Janice Welling used to knit us scarves every Christmas. I used to hate them, but when I moved to Chicago, they became my favorite piece of clothing.”

“I don’t know if I can do this using Janice’s scarves.” He pulled out four long wool scarves in various colors. “I mean… It’s Janice.”

“I promise never to tell her.”

Gently, he lifted my left leg and slid it toward the edge of the bed before he wrapped the scarf around it. “You’ll be open to me.” He quickly did the other, leaving me spread wide. “Completely.”

I pulled on the scarves and silently thanked Janice for using a stitch with enough give that I could move my legs but not close them.

“How does that feel?” Ace asked.

“I’m glad I brought her more recent scarves,” I said, trying to hide the tremble in my voice. “She used scratchy wool in her earlier scarf iterations.” I opened my eyes to look at him and was overwhelmed with the intensity with which he was watching me.

“Haley?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s not mention Janice again.” His lips quivered at the corners. “She’s killing the vibe.” He caught me trying to move my legs again and lifted an eyebrow.

“Is anything too tight?”

“No.”

“Then, relax.” He leaned in and brushed a kiss over my forehead. “Your hands are clenched so tight around those bars I’m worried you might actually break them. I don’t want to have to buy you a new headboard.”

“Are you going to tie my hands too?”

“I trust you to hold on and not let go.” His hands moved up my legs, sending goose bumps racing across my skin.

“I won’t be able to touch you,” I complained, watching him climb onto the bed between my spread legs.

“Tonight isn’t about me,” he said. “It’s about you. I want to make you feel good tonight. I want to show you I’m worthy of your trust.”

His lips met mine, and I melted into his kiss, my body softening and sinking into the bed. And then he took advantage of my willing restraint by trailing more kisses down my throat and collarbone to the crescents of my breasts.

I was hot everywhere, wet between my legs, my breasts aching, my body desperate to move and take what he had teasingly offered. “Please…”

“Please what?”

“Touch me. Kiss me. Lick me. Do anything. Everything.”

He blew a warm breath over my aching nipple before he closed his mouth and drew me in. He sucked and licked, then bit down gently while his fingers traced teasing circles over my other breast. The sharp sizzle of pain mixed with pleasure had me arching into him, trying to get more of his mouth, more of his fingers, more to soothe the ache between my legs.

Ace turned his attention to my other nipple, alternating between sucking and nipping until I couldn’t tell the difference between pleasure and pain. His every touch seemed magnified, flooding me with sensation and heightening my awareness. My duvet felt softer, the scarves scratchier, the air heavier and laced with sensual promise. I could taste him on my lips, the lingering tang of tomato sauce and the bite of whiskey he must have had before he came upstairs. I inhaled, and the fresh soapy scent of his hair flooded my senses.

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