Kiss an Angel(54)

“Remember what I said,” she whispered. “You have to keep your hands where they are. You can’t move them.”

“If you open your legs just a little bit, sweetheart, I’ll be as cooperative as I know how.”

Fair was fair, she decided, and she eased her thighs apart. He gazed at what she had revealed. His right arm twitched, as if he were getting ready to move it, but then he relaxed.

She lowered her head and began tasting him again, nibbling near the bottom curve of his rib cage. His flesh was firm and tightly muscled. She slid her hands over his chest, enjoying the texture of hair and skin gone moist. She couldn’t resist those brown nipples and ran her lips across them, making him writhe beneath her. Reaching up, she clasped his biceps and squeezed. Her thumbs discovered the pulsing veins that ran beneath his skin. She traced them downward and found her way to the soft hair in his armpits. As she dallied there, goose bumps broke out over his damp skin, and he made an inarticulate noise deep in his throat. Slowly lifting her head, she met his eyes.

“I’m going to take off your towel.”

“Are you now?”

The raw desire in his eyes reminded her she was playing with fire. But she had no intention of turning back, and she moved her hands to the top of the towel. With one smooth motion, she opened it and spread it apart.

“Oh . . .” He was magnificent. She extended her hand and touched him tentatively with the tip of her finger. He nearly leaped off the bed, and she snatched back her hand.

Her gaze flew to his face. It was contorted as if he were in pain. “Did I hurt you?”

“You’ve got sixty seconds,” he croaked, “and then I’m moving my arms.”

A thrill of pleasure shot through her as she realized this was all part of the game. “Not till I give you permission,” she said sternly.

“Fifty seconds,” he replied.

She hurried to touch him again, letting her curious fingertips roam along every inch, caressing here and there. She nudged his thighs open a few inches and found more places to touch.

“Twenty seconds,” he groaned.

“Stop counting so fast.”

He chuckled and moaned at the same time, making her smile. But then her smile faded. After all of these years, how was her small body supposed to accommodate something like this? As she closed her hand around him, it occurred to her that her own internal parts could very well have atrophied from lack of use. She moved her hand.

“That’s it!”

Without warning, she found herself flipped to her back with his weight pressing down on her. “I think it’s time you got a little of your own medicine, sweetheart. Assume the position.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hands against the wall.”

She gulped and thought of the whips. Maybe her plan to play the femme fatale had worked too well. He believed her far more experienced than she was.

“Alex?”

“We’re not talking till I see that you know how to follow orders.”

She slowly raised her arms to the pillow.

“I told you to touch the wall.”

She did as she was ordered, and she’d never felt more defenseless or more aroused. As her knuckles brushed the thin paneling behind her she was overcome by an unsettling combination of uneasiness and a deep sensual hunger. She wanted to beg him to be gentle with her. At the same time, she wanted him to love her with all his might.

She lay like a bound captive beneath his gaze. Somehow the fact that there were no true restraints holding her in place didn’t make her position of subjugation any less real. He was so much stronger than she, so much more powerful, that he could do whatever he wished, regardless of whether or not she agreed. A prickle of alarm ruffled the edges of her arousal only to fade as he ran the tip of his finger across her stomach, back and forth over the fishnet until she wanted to scream. He moved lower, touching the patch of curls.

“Open up, sweetheart.”

She did as he said, but apparently he wasn’t satisfied with her effort because he caught her thighs and separated them farther.

The tights were no barrier, and she suddenly felt too open, too vulnerable. She began to moved her hands away from the wall.

“Don’t even think about it,” he whispered, his touch gliding over what she had revealed.

She moaned and lay back to feel him parting her with his thumbs through the moist diamond web. He dipped his head. She cried out, and her fists banged against the wall as he touched her with his mouth, caressed her through the net. A low, strangled sound of pleasure caught in her throat. She felt the net stretched taut across her, its webbing pressing deeply into her softness.

His shoulders splayed her knees and he held her breasts beneath the palms of his hands as he loved her. The rain thrummed on the metal womb that encompassed them both, and her own womb quivered in response to what was happening. As her senses swirled, she felt the vibration of thunder passing through the wall into her hands and traveling down into every nerve of her body. Her back arched, and she gave herself up to him in a shattering climax.

He held her through the aftershocks. Only when she recovered did she become aware of a strange tugging between her legs. She didn’t understand what he had done until he settled over her and she experienced that long awaited stretching at the very entrance to her body.

“You’ve torn a hole in my tights,” she murmured foolishly, slipping her arms around his shoulders and reveling in the feel of his weight pressing her into the mattress.