Deep (Pagano Family #4)(102)

“No, bella. We don’t need that.”

“I do. I don’t want to be afraid of it. It’s the last thing I’m still afraid of. I don’t want a year to have passed and to know that it still has a hold over me at all. And you like it. Right? You still like it?”

Honestly, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t have the associations from that night that she did, of course. But he had associations of his own, and a vivid imagination. And their sex had been different, deeper since they’d gotten it back. He had liked that kind of play before, but he wasn’t sure he still would.

“I want to try. Please, Nick.”

He had a vivid imagination. He also had an excellent memory, and he remembered sitting at the side of her bed, very shortly after that night, and promising her, Anything you need, anything you want. If it’s in my power to make it so, it will be so. He had not made that promise lightly. He never made any promise lightly.

Bending down, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Talk to me, bella. If you feel fear or panic, or anything you don’t want to feel, talk to me. Tell me.”

“I will.”

Easing off the bed, he shed his underwear and went to her dresser. She had a collection of pretty silk scarves in one of her drawers; he pulled two out. He would tie her hands together; tying the hands apart made for a more exposed and vulnerable sensation.

The scarves bunched in his fist, he returned to the bed, where she was still lying as he’d left her, in the middle, her hands linked across her belly.

He got onto the bed and straddled her hips, keeping his weight in his legs. Still, her expression was anxious. What he wanted tonight was to celebrate their news, not risk traumatizing her. His cock had gone completely soft, so he wasn’t even sure he could get done what she wanted. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I trust you.”

“Hold up your hands. Like you’re praying.” She did, and he slid one of the scarves through his hands, stretching it to its full length. Then he eased it over her arms, up and down, letting the silk soothe and excite her skin. When he’d last bound her, he hadn’t taken this kind of care—it had been rough and forceful, the kind of sex he’d mistaken his whole life for passion.

What they had now—that was true passion.

When her breathing became steadier and more rapid, he wrapped her wrists twice, three times, and tied a simple half knot. Then he pulled her bound arms over her head, covering her body with his as he tied her to one of the vertical slats of their headboard. As he secured the scarf, he felt her lips on his chest, and he looked down with a smile.

He wrapped his hands around her slender forearms and eased his palms over her skin, down the length of her arms, over her sides, as he returned to sit astride her.

“Tell me, bella.”

“I’m okay. It’s…good.” She sounded as if she were reassuring them both, but he trusted her, as she trusted him.

“Do you want a blindfold, or do you want to see?”

She frowned, and Nick lifted his hand, ready to release her. “I’ll close my eyes. I want to be able to see you if I need to.”

“Okay.” He set the other scarf aside. “Then close your eyes.”

She did.

He took painstaking care to be gentle and soft with her. First, all he did was trace his fingertips over all of her body that wasn’t covered by the negligée—her arms, her legs, her face, the soles of her pretty feet. He opened the split front of the sheer silk that covered her belly and danced his fingers with a feather-light touch over that quivering skin. She moaned, and her arms came forward, tightening her bonds.

He stopped. “Bella, tell me.”

“It’s good. It feels so good.” At her breathy reply, he relaxed, and his cock filled out.

The scarf he’d set aside was yellow silk. He picked it up again and played it lightly and randomly over her skin. She twisted and scissored her legs together. When she bit her lower lip, he leaned over her and kissed her, sucking it free of her teeth.

He lifted the glittery bodice of her negligée up, releasing her breasts, then leaned over to her nightstand and picked up her water glass. Condensation had beaded and fogged the outside, but there were still small chunks of ice floating in the water. He sucked one into his mouth, then returned to suckle at her breasts.

Her body bowed sharply at the chill touch of his iced mouth, and she cried out. Releasing her nipple but hovering just above it, he opened his mouth to remind her, but she preempted him.

“It’s good, it’s good. More. Please.” With a chuckle, he gave her what she wanted—more. He suckled and nipped her breasts, careful to be firmer with her right but not hurt her, until she was rocking beneath him, every breath a moan, and then he slid his hands into the little silken panties and pushed them off her hips. Her legs were free, and she lifted her hips off the bed to help him, and then kicked herself free of the wisp of purple fabric.



Then he took another cool drink, sucked in another slim piece of ice, and settled between her legs.

Now, at the icy touch of his tongue to her clit, she jumped like she’d been electrocuted.

He swallowed the ice. “Tell me.”

“Make me come,” she breathed. “I need to come.”

Her eyes were still closed. As far as he knew, she’d never yet opened them. Her trust in him was complete.