“Mm-hmm. Yes!”
The retsina was made on his own lands. Not the most revered of wine varieties, but this year’s had turned out nicely. From the way she sipped, screwing up her mouth a little when she thought he wasn’t looking, Claire hadn’t tried much wine before. Slowly the retsina and the food did their job, and the tension left her face and shoulders.
“You must be curious about me. I know I am about you, about your life before this. Unless, that is, you already know who I am?”
She shook her head. “No. We—I wasn’t told much about your country.”
“Well, I own many many acres of land, different properties. I am a rich man—purely by virtue of my birth.” He grimaced. “I try not to abuse my power. And truly, being rich does give me power. I plan to do more than simply live on the surplus. I have a right to a seat in our House of Lords. You understand?”
“Yes.”
“But, also a part of who I am is that I like to be the dominant partner in any sexual relationship. This you must understand too, by now?”
“Uh, yes.” She took a measured swallow of retsina, looking at him from under her eyelashes. Her hand didn’t visibly tremble, but the surface of the retsina did.
“From what I’ve seen, you’re happy with that?”
She said nothing.
“You’re very red, Claire. A beetroot would be put to shame.”
“I’m, uh, happy with that.” On one side, she curled her hair back behind her ear. He waited until she stopped fussing and put her hands in her lap.
“Good.” He let his own pleasure show through in his tone and noted her blush fading. “Because, this isn’t about me only. If you’re not happy, then I’m not. I may like holding you down when we have sex…or restraining you in other ways”— ahhh, good; that made her breathe even faster—“or sometimes even turning your bottom red with a paddle, but I want you to find joy in this.” He made himself sit still, despite wanting to reach out and fondle her.
“Um”—she swallowed—“I’m not keen on the restraining, or the, uh, paddle, and you know ropes are out.”
“No? I think perhaps it’s too early to decide that. When the moment arrives, yes? Then we’ll see if you feel the same way. And that is one of my rules. I get to decide how far we try to go, because I don’t think, Claire, that you really know yourself.”
At that, he picked up the cloth that had held the pastries, reached across, and slowly looped it around the hand she leaned on. Then he kept her hand pinned there to the ground, with the cloth wound tight, while he cupped his other hand beneath her chin. He watched her for a long moment. Her eyes were on his, her nostrils flaring. He moved in and kissed her thoroughly. When he pulled away and dragged the cloth from around her wrist, her lips were parted, and she looked like she’d fall over on her back if he pushed the slightest amount. Superb.
“Your lips are swollen, Claire. And I know that if I touched you between your legs, I’d find you wetter than that river behind you.” He narrowed his eyes but kept the warmth of approval in his tone. “That was restraint. You liked it. I had thought we’d already established this.”
After a second, she gulped. “I did…like it. But that was different. I could have gotten myself free.”
“I don’t doubt you could have tried and maybe succeeded. But you didn’t. You enjoyed being held down. It’s not necessarily about being overpowered; it’s about relinquishing control. There’s always an out. For me, there’s a thrill in knowing you’re giving me that power.”
He made his voice stay utterly steady, imprinting on her that this was fact. “The greater the restraint, Claire, the greater the enjoyment will be for you. When you trust me enough to hand me complete control, I’m going to tie you up in rope. I love the stark beauty of rope on a woman’s skin. I’m going to tie you up so thoroughly that you won’t be able to stop me from making you come, over and over.”
She froze, and he could see that both fascinated and shocked her, as her throat and mouth worked with little movements.
He smiled. “This is not meant to be algebra. If you’ll let me, I’ll take you on a journey, one you won’t easily forget.”
She shut her eyes, opened them, and fixed him with those golden irises. “Mmm.” She steepled her fingers together. “But what if I want to stop or take a different path to the one you’re on?”
“I’ll always take into account what you want done to you.”
“Done to me?” The words twisted into a squeak. She shook her head as if perturbed at the betrayal of nerves, then cleared her throat.
His gorgeous bodyguard was unsettled, if aroused. Good.