Giving In (Surrender Trilogy #2)(49)

The ride home was silent, but she found comfort in the thick tension between them. Their need was evident. Neither of them tried to hide it or make it something it wasn’t.

When they pulled into his drive, she felt a moment’s uncertainty, but quickly tamped it down. She was going ahead with this. She had questions. She wanted a much clearer picture of what he’d promised her.

As soon as they entered the house, Kylie started toward the living room, leaving him to follow her lead. She reclined on the couch and then patted the spot beside her in silent invitation.

When he settled beside her, she turned, swallowing back her fears. With this man she could be herself. And with this man, maybe she could finally be whole again. Not again. For the first time in her life.

“I wanted—needed—to ask you some things,” she said hesitantly.

His hand immediately went to her cheek, soft and reassuring, his touch like fire against her skin.

“You can ask me anything, darling. There’s nothing we can’t talk about together.”

She smiled, encouraged by his sincerity.

“I want . . .” She sucked in a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I want to try again. I mean with you. But I wanted to know exactly what you meant by giving me control.”

Fire blazed in his eyes, heat that she could feel. Desire. Satisfaction. Relief.

“I meant just that,” he said. “If you want this—me—then what happens is you tie me to the bed, both hands above me, and I’ll be yours to do with as you please. And by that, I mean as much or as little as you want. We take it slow. You see what you can handle. And we go from there. But baby, don’t put pressure on yourself and don’t get upset if you can’t handle a lot right away. I’m in no hurry. We have all the time in the world so I want you to take it slow and only do what you’re comfortable doing.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief. He sounded utterly sincere.

“Then let’s do it,” she whispered. “I want to try. I don’t want to make you promises I can’t keep, so for now let’s just see what happens.”

His smile was achingly gentle and understanding. “I’m yours to command, Kylie. And I don’t make that offer lightly. Only for you. Always for you.”

“So what do I do next then?”

He rose, extending his hand to hers, a gesture of support and solidarity.

“What we do is take this to the bedroom and I’ll get the necessary rope for you to tie me to the bed. The rest is entirely up to you, baby.”

SEVENTEEN

KYLIE watched in abject fascination as Jensen calmly stripped himself of his clothing and then reached into one of his drawers for a length of rope.

He was beautiful. Raw masculinity emanated from him in waves. He was utterly perfect and he didn’t seem at all abashed by his nudity. Or his huge erection straining upward to his abdomen.

No matter how hard she tried to look somewhere—anywhere—else, she couldn’t force her gaze away from his jutting erection. And oddly it didn’t terrify her. She was fascinated by it. It—he—was a thing of beauty.

She blushed over the idiocy of considering a penis beautiful, but it belonged to a beautiful man so how could it be anything else? This man was without fault. He was physical perfection.

He turned to her, extending the rope. She took it nervously, unsure of what the hell she was supposed to do with it. But he took the lead, thank God. She may have supposed she was in control, but she was anything but. She was following his lead gratefully.

He crawled onto the bed and turned on his back, stretching as gracefully as a cat, his entire length exposed and vulnerable. Then he brought his arms over his head, placing his hands close to the spindles of his headboard.

“Tie me, baby,” he said in a husky voice that sent shivers dancing down her spine. “And then I’m yours to do with as you wish.”

Oh my. This delicious alpha male was hers for the taking. To do with whatever she wanted, and God did she want. She wanted so badly that it was a physical ache.

She crawled onto the bed and began coiling the rope around one wrist. Then she pulled it toward his other hand and secured that one as well. She tested the tautness of the rope even though she had no fears of him hurting her. But her mind needed reassurance. Her brain needed to know she was safe.

When she was finished, she sat back and let her gaze wander hungrily down his body. There was so much to look at. To touch. And taste. And suddenly she wanted it all. At the same time. He was a veritable feast laid out in front of a starving woman.

She touched his chest first. It seemed the safest place to start, and she let her hands roam over the wall of muscle, exploring the hair-roughened hollow and his taut abdomen.

His breath hissed out in a long exhalation the moment she touched him. He jerked and she yanked her hands away, worried she’d done something wrong.

“Don’t stop, baby. God, you feel so damn good. If you only knew how long I’ve waited for you to touch me like this. Don’t stop. I’m yours to touch and explore however you want. It’s all in your hands. I can guarantee there isn’t a thing I won’t love.”

Encouraged by the raw intensity—and honesty—in his voice, she returned to his body, this time roaming over his shoulders and then back down his sides, growing closer to the place she most wanted to touch.

His erection was straining upward, resting against his belly. All she had to do was slide her fingers an inch closer and she’d be touching him.