Bound by Bliss (Bound and Determined #2)(73)
“Dammit, woman. Are you ever going to move on with this?” Now that truly was a growl.
“I am moving on with it.” And if he understood the full effect her examination of his body was having on her, he’d understand just how true that was.
“Not fast enough.”
“Be patient. It’s my turn.”
“Don’t tell me to be patient. I’ve given you more control than I’ve given any woman since my first and I am not even sure about her. You’ve teased and teased and now you are doing nothing but staring at my arm. If you’re going to stare surely you could choose something more exciting than my arm.”
“I am saving those parts for last.” Not that she needed to explain herself. “I am just wondering what your wrist tastes like, imagining bringing it to my lips, running my tongue along the veins, feeling the beat of your pulse, watching your fingers curl and uncurl, knowing that you want to touch me, but that you are restraining yourself. My lips are dry with the thought, desperate to run along you, to sample you. I am driving myself half-crazy with thought. It’s your wrist and I am making myself so hot and bothered that I can barely stand it. And we won’t talk about my thoughts when I was looking at your hand, at your fingers, when I was remembering all the things they had done, dreaming of all the things they could do, picturing them pinching my nipples tight until I ached so badly I wanted to explode and never recover. Even your leg hairs. Your leg hairs. Do you know that I was wondering what it would be like to swing over your leg so that it lay between mine and then to rub myself against it, to feel the abrasion of each hair as it moved over—and I don’t even know what it’s called—all I know is I want you pressing there again, that I want to feel the way flames lick through my entire body as I rub and press, as my mind fills with images no decent lady would admit to. I am burning for you now, there, deep between my legs. I can hardly bear it. This is my one night, my one chance, and I can barely think, barely stay sane because I want you so badly.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“I just did. Now be quiet again and let me move on to your neck. I’ve decided to skip your arms—those blasted hairs—and your face. If I have to stare at your lips who knows what I’ll think about. Why did you have to choose a room with a mirror? I’ve never been fond of blond men, but now every time I look at your hair all I can think of is the thought of you buried between my thighs, of the sight of your head moving in rhythm to the cries of my body.”
Stephan sat up with a jerk. “My turn.”
Before she could answer she was flat on her back, her arms held at her sides. “Not fair. I didn’t get to finish and I did so want to do my examination of those parts I was saving for the end.”
“My cock.”
“Yes, and your balls. I want to understand more about how they work—and feel. I haven’t had a chance to feel them yet.”
“Some other night.”
“But there is only tonight.”
He didn’t answer. And she wanted her chance. Trying to turn to her side and reach for him, she found herself held still, perfectly still, engulfed by the mountain of muscle surrounding her. His chest filled her entire field of vision. His hips splayed across hers, holding her immobile. She’d always known he was bigger than her, much bigger, but now he seemed colossal. “No, it is still my turn—unless I was doing something wrong. Was I doing something wrong?” Why did it sound like she was about to cry as she whispered the last? She was far too strong a woman to turn from anger to tears so quickly.
Stephan’s arms relaxed about her. “No, sweet, if anything you were doing things too right. I had simply had as much as I could take. I do not wish to come like some schoolboy before we have even begun. I should definitely have more control after coming already this night. Your actions were bad enough, but your words, your words heated my blood to boiling—and not just my blood. I am not a man who’s ever needed words, but I think with you I could just lie back and…But that is not how I intend to spend this night. It is my turn and you will do as I say.”
“Why should I?” The words were out before she had a chance to consider. She did not wish to sound childish.
His muscles tensed up about her. “I think you know why.”
She heard the gentle threat in his voice. “But it was still my turn.”
“One thing you had best learn, Bliss. In this bed, in any bed, you will do as I say. I may allow you to play, but have no doubt that I am allowing you—unless you wish your ass a couple of shades darker.”
She had something to say about that. Allow her, indeed. She was opening her mouth to speak when one of his fingers came down across her lips.
“Not now,” he said. “I know you want to argue and most of the time I will listen, but not now. In the rest of our lives I will grant you your say, but here I am in control. I know you do not like to give over, to admit that another is in command, but I want you to stop and consider. You may not like it, but perhaps you need it. Perhaps you need one place where you do not have to struggle, where you can relax and let things happen. Let this be that place. Trust me and I will not disappoint.
He’d said something similar earlier and she’d felt the truth of it then. It was wonderful not to spend every moment thinking about her actions, to just lie back and…