Fever (Breathless #2)(74)

She was positively itching to experience all of that at Jace’s hand. She loved his dominance, his strength and his authority over her. Loved his firm hand. But she’d known he was holding back, not giving her all of him. Finally, that would come to an end. Or at least she hoped it would.

Adrenaline buzzed through her veins, soaking her in a high like she’d never experienced. No pill or drug had ever given her anything close to this. If only she could bottle it.

She jumped when the tip of a leather crop skimmed over her shoulder and down between her br**sts. She hadn’t even seen him get it out. Had been too lost in her excitement.

He was still dressed, and she was completely naked. His sleeves were rolled up. She reacted to that image. He looked as though he were about to go to work. On her. She licked her lips, suddenly nervous, terrified, excited as hell and unbelievably turned on.

He trailed the edge over the tips of her br**sts in turn. Her ni**les hardened as he stroked the leather over them, coaxing them to further rigidity. Then he let the crop drift lower, to her belly, and then lower still until it glided over her mound and then around the curve of her body to between her legs.

She gasped when it slid between her folds, over her clit and into her wetness. And she was wet. Very wet. He rubbed it lightly, going lower until it touched the mouth of her pu**y and then he shifted it higher to stroke her clit once more.

Her breathing sped up and she closed her eyes, helplessly arching upward, unable to control her reaction to the featherlike brushes. The crop could be used for pleasure. Just as it could be used for pain. The contrast fascinated her. Made her want to experience the opposite sensation. The snap of the leather against her skin, marking her as he’d promised.

His marks. His stamp of possession. Proof that he owned her.

God, it sounded so barbaric. So unbelievably delicious and decadent. Owned.

Protected.

Cherished.

She moaned softly as he lifted the crop through her curls and back over her mound. Then he lifted the tip to her mouth, her eyes widening when she guessed his intent.

“Lick it clean,” he said huskily. “Lick your juices from the leather, Bethany. Taste yourself. Taste your desire.”

Hesitantly, she stuck the tip of her tongue out to the leather, her eyes glued to him, seeking his approval. There was satisfaction in his eyes. No sign of disappointment.

Growing bolder, she pulled the crop farther into her mouth, never letting her gaze drop from his, and she sucked lightly at it and then laved her tongue over the surface, catching the slight musk of her moisture.

Without warning, he pulled the crop away and snapped it over the side of her breast, catching her nipple and areola with the flat edge.

Fire—and surprise—caught her unaware and she gasped, rocking back on her heels. It was the most perplexing sensation. Pain. Instant sharpness. But then a throbbing ache that slowly faded to a warm hum. Strangely addictive because she wanted more. Wanted that burn because she knew what would follow.

Her ni**les were on fire. So very hard, puckered and rigid, straining outward as if begging for the crop. Was she insane? She was practically begging him to hit her again.

He popped the other breast and fire exploded over that nipple. She closed her eyes and swayed, drunk on the instant buzz that settled into her blood.

“You’d look f**king hot with nipple piercings,” Jace said in a silky voice.

Her eyes popped open in surprise. Jace did not look like a guy who appreciated body piercings in the woman he was involved with.

“No one would ever see them but me,” he murmured. “Our little secret. And it would drive me crazy knowing what was underneath your bra.”

It made her want to run out and find the nearest place to pierce them. Only, ouch. It sounded painful and not in a good way.

“Get up on the bed,” he commanded. “On your hands and knees, ass out to the edge. Keep position, no matter what I do. You aren’t to move. You do, however, have permission to make whatever sound you like. I want to hear them. Want to hear each gasp, each cry, every moan when the crop strikes your flesh.”

She reached down with her hands to push herself upward, knowing she didn’t have a prayer of remaining steady. She was already so drunk on desire. She weaved unsteadily and he immediately reached out to grasp her arm, ensuring she didn’t fall. When he was certain she was steady, he let her go and she crawled onto the bed, positioning herself exactly as he’d commanded her.

“Now, lay your cheek on the mattress, ass up, head down. Put your arms above your head and lay your palms flat on the bed. And keep them there.”

Slowly she lowered her head, her stomach clenching at the vulnerability of the position. She was utterly helpless this way. No defense.

To her surprise, he stepped away but he returned just as quickly. He grasped one ankle, tugging firmly, forcing her thighs wider apart so that her pu**y was completely bared. Then to her shock, he began to coil rope around her ankle. She felt it pull tight so she couldn’t even move it and she realized he was tying the other end to the bedpost at the foot of the bed.

Holy shit. She really was going to be completely helpless!

When he was finished with that ankle, he moved to her other and secured it in an identical fashion to the headboard. She was stretched wide, both ankles spread and tied securely.

She thought he was finished but then he walked around to the other side of the bed and from the corner of her eye, she saw he held more rope.