Page 75 of A Rogue's Rules for Seduction
When she took one of his wrists and pulled it up so that he was close to the wooden finial atop the headboard, he couldn’t hold back his groan. Or the droplet of fluid that leaked from his slit.
“You’re better at knots than I am,” she murmured, eyeing the cord she held.
“Something simple will work fine.” His voice came out in a rasp. “Keep it loose enough that it doesn’t rub too hard. A taste of pain is good, but not too much of the wrong kind.”
She nodded, and his gaze ricocheted between the sight of her tying a rope around his wrist andanchoring it to the headboard, and the focused, studious look on her face as she bent to her work, which inflamed him even more. Fuck, he could come from only this.
Once she had one wrist secured, she edged around the bed to give the same attention to the other. She was scholarly in the filthiest way as she gave the rope a tug to ensure that she’d bound him properly.
“I’m good and tied, lioness,” he growled. “Now you can do with me whatever you want.”
Her eyes darkened as she leaned close, digging her fingers into his nape to bring him in for a lush, deep kiss.
She pulled back abruptly and straightened. Her gaze roamed all over his body as if she owned every inch of muscle, and he writhed, aroused, beneath her possessive look.
“You can touch me,” he panted. “Pleasetouch me.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t,” she said, equally breathless. “You said a taste of pain is good. I could keep you in pain like this.”
“That’d be torture, not havin’ your hands on me.”
“I don’t want you to suffer unnecessarily.” She still wore her shift, and her nipples formed tight points beneath the thin fabric as her breasts rose and fell. Leaning over him, she hovered her hands inches from his already straining, taut body, and he held his breath. Waiting. Waiting.
He groaned when she finally stroked her palmsover his torso. Every nerve came to life beneath her hands, and he leaned into her caresses. She let her fingers play over his sides, before gliding over his pectorals. He hissed when she lightly scratched his nipples, but when she looked up at him with a question in her eyes, he gave a quick nod to let her know that he wanted her to keep going. Cautiously, she bent close to flick her tongue over his nipple, and when he growled, she grew bolder, drawing it into her mouth to suck. Hot sensation shot all the way from his chest to his cock.
He gave another groan when she smoothed along the muscles leading down to his stomach. She softly dragged her fingernails through the trail of hair leading to his cock, and into the thicker nest at the base.
Dom was sweating now, pushing his hips up.
“Fuck—I need to feel you on my cock,” he said, voice rough.
She looked at him with a mischievous smile. “Like this?”
A long string of curses tore from him when she raked her nails up his shaft.
But she didn’t stay there. Instead, she scratched over his thighs before going back up to his cock and lightly, lightly scraping up and down it, driving him to a frenzy.
“Where are you off to?” he demanded when she walked from the bed, toward the open chest.Then he made a sound that was part torment, part ecstasy when she pulled the riding crop from the trunk.
She approached the bed with a cheeky grin, yet her smile faded when she got closer. “Is this all right? I don’t have to use it if it’s not—”
“Goin’ to kill me, and Ilove it.”
Her impudent look returned, and she lightly trailed the thin piece of leather at the end of the crop across his thighs. The strokes were soft, the leather cool, and he relaxed slightly before she swatted him. A quick, sharp strike that shot fire through him and almost immediately made a red line on his skin.
“All right?” she asked.
“Better than all right,” he snarled. “Incredible.”
She did it again, and again, raining a series of fast blows on his thighs. With each hit, he growled and cursed, his hips lifting off the mattress. Each strike was like a bolt of lightning that went straight to his cock. More fluid streamed from the tip, oozing down the head and shaft, glistening in the light.
He’d always been the one to wield the crop, but to be on the receiving end was unexpectedly ecstasy.
“You’re so—fuck—damn—Christ—good at this.”
“And you’re so good at taking what I give you,” she said, gasping. Color was high in her cheeks, her eyes were blown out, and her lips were parted as she watched the fruits of her labors with a glassy gaze.
He was on the thinnest of tethers, barely able to control himself.
