Bound by Bliss (Bound and Determined #2)(60)

Ahh, there it was.

He gestured for Bliss to join him, and then pointed to a small hole about chest-level up. She looked at him in question, and with a shrug he placed a shoulder to one of the wardrobes and shoved until it blocked the opening.

“Does that please my lady?”

She nodded and went to sit on the bed with a decided bounce, her earlier nerves forgotten. With a broad grin she untied the mask and tossed it to the foot of the bed, reaching for the toggle of her cloak.

He watched as the heavy fabric slid from her shoulders to pool about her on the bed.

Nodding approval at the simplicity of her dress, he strode forward until his knees brushed her.

He could see the jerk of her throat as she swallowed.

Reaching forward, he pushed down her bodice just enough to reveal his mark upon her flesh, a soft red circle against her pale skin. It was his turn to swallow and gulp, as his already swollen cock made its presence known.

The mark called to him. He longed to trace it with his tongue, to soothe it with his lips, to taste her sweet flesh again. “Does it still sting?” he asked.

“Not really. I definitely still feel it, but it is not bad. It was more of a reminder than anything.”



“That is how I wished it. And what did it remind you of?”

A delicate flush raced up her cheeks. “Of you.”

That was the correct answer, but he wanted more. He stared at her and simply raised a brow, waiting.

She did not disappoint. “It made me think of what you do to me, of what you make me feel—and of punishment. I don’t understand what it means. I don’t like that the very word makes me quiver inside. I should be running from you, not racing to you willingly. Why do I not fear and dislike something that I should?”

“Racing to me? I do like that.” He should tell her that it was best to run, but he did not. She was his, for better, for worse. If he were a more honorable man, he might send her away, but he could not. All he could do was protect her and care for her—always. “And you like the idea of punishment when you deserve it?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I should not like it. I’ve never liked it before, but when you say it I turn to jelly inside and my mind fills up with the most sinful and delicious pictures. I know it will hurt and yet I long for it, long for the burn that brings freedom, that brings peace. I cannot forget Mrs. Binkshaw’s face as her husband’s hand came down upon her. I want to feel like that.”

“You will have to tell me about those sinful pictures in your mind sometime. And as for your feelings they are not uncommon. There is freedom in giving over to another, in letting your mind rest free of all worry—and you do have a most active mind, my Bliss. And as for pain, why should you run from it if you also find pleasure in it? Sensation is sensation. Why not let your body decide what it likes, what it desires?”



Her eyes grew wide at his words, but he could see her mind fighting for control, her thoughts racing and tangled. It was his job to clear them. “Are you ready?” He let the last word linger.

She pushed to her feet, brushing against him. “I do want to be sure we have some understanding before I do this.”

“That is acceptable.”

“I want, I need, to stay a virgin. It seems strange that I am ready to do this and yet worry about the honor of my marriage vows, but I do.”

“I understand. Is there anything else?”

“You will stop if I ask?”

“That is always a rule. I have no desire for an unwilling partner, not even in the slightest. If you are unhappy let me know. All I ask in return is honesty.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“I mean two things. First, do not try to hide if something displeases you, but also, second, take a moment to consider whether it is merely surprising or actually unbearable. Tonight is about learning something new and new things can be unsettling. Be sure how you feel before you ask me to stop. You can also ask me for a moment to breathe and think. I will deny you nothing, Bliss.”

—

He would deny her nothing. The words sang through her, sending sparks of desire down to her very core, dampness building between her legs, but also something else, something she did not wish to examine too closely, something warm and alive and…“Will you let me see all of you?” It was not what she really wanted—well, she did want it, but it was far easier to ask for something fun and sexual than to pursue her own tangled thoughts.



“You will grant me the same privilege.” He said it as fact, not question.

Would she? She realized it might come to this, but hadn’t really considered the act of taking off her clothing in front of him. Now it was all that she could think of. He’d seen her breasts. He’d thought them beautiful. Could it be so much worse to let him see more? Had she ever been naked with anyone? Well, her maid, of course. But that hardly seemed to count. And she was rarely completely naked, more often one thing was being put on as another taken off. When she was in the bath there could be more than one maid, sometimes one she did not know, bringing buckets of water to and from. She was always under the water when that happened, however. Did that count as naked? When she was much younger she’d stripped down with Angela so they could compare bodies. She’d been scarcely ten at the time. And it had felt odd, if forbidden in a most delightful way. The modiste? Was she ever completely naked with her dressmaker? She must be, but she could not remember a…