“No ropes, remember?”
A challenge. Definitely time to see where the line was drawn. If she yielded, good. If not, he’d know where he stood. He closed his eyes to better appreciate the fresh scent of her hair. He’d be sorry when this ended. Sexual liaisons never lasted, not in his experience.
“It’s time to take your education a little further, my dear.”
He insinuated another finger around the string of pearls between her legs and felt her sharp intake of breath as he nudged her clit. The pearls slipped in her juices as his fingers thrust in and out.
“Theo. Not here!” She choked out the words. Her muscles twitched. He knew she strained not to curve her back and subtly increased the rhythm.
“Oh, yes. Here.” At last, she arched into his palm. “Your lips need kissing.” So swollen, so begging for a kiss, a pretty red. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth between his teeth, caressing with his tongue. His cock twitched as a little groan escaped her, vibrating from her throat. “Now this,” he murmured. His free hand dipped into a pocket, then sought out her wrist. Before she could resist, he put a loop of thin rope around it.
“No. I don’t think so.” She pulled her mouth away. Frowning, she shook her head. “No.”
He released her except for the end of the rope, took his fingers from inside her, the liquid suction from her vaginal muscles dragging at them. A quiet “oh” escaped her.
Then, shivering, she got as far from him as she could inside the cabin of the landship, until only the short section of rope connected them—wrist to hand.
Her face was red-tinged, her eyes wild and widened. Blonde strands draped her face, like the bars of a cage with her an animal looking out.
“Give me your other wrist, Claire.”
“No,” she said through gritted teeth.
He stopped. The signals from her body said terror. He didn’t want that. Yet she’d not said her safe word.
*
Claire strained away. The loop tightened on her wrist, scraping her skin. She wasn’t thinking straight and knew it. Rope, the idea of it wrapping her up tight, sent shrieks of panic along her nerves.
“Do you trust me?” Theo asked, those gray eyes weighing her up.
Did she? “Yes. But—”
He sighed. “But not with this. You’re too frightened. Say your safe word. You need to remember that.”
“Kokino,” she muttered, knowing she was as angry at herself as at him. Stupid, stupid word. “I’m taking this off.”
“No. Let me. Come here.” He snapped his fingers.
The command went to her legs before her mind, and she took two steps.
“Good.”
The praise calmed her and let her call up her mantras. Breathe slow, assess the situation, then act. Only she faltered at the first step. How could she slow her breaths when she stood next to him? His warm hands slipped the rope loose. His calluses brushed her skin—those of a man of force and action. She couldn’t get enough of being handled by him, and shuddered at the rekindling of sensations. She hated denying him—yet rope…no, not that.
“You’ve liked everything else we’ve done together, yes?”
She nodded.
“Then, if you trust me, turn around, Claire.” He kissed the top of her head.
She turned, felt him fuss with the bustle.
“An experiment. This isn’t rope, so I expect you to be utterly still.” He growled that and nipped her shoulder through the dress, making her gasp. Swiftly, he captured her wrists and pulled them behind her. She resisted the urge to rip them away. Not rope. Last time, at the river, the reward had been rapturous. Cloth wrapped around her wrists, tying them together. He must have untied the bow at the bustle and was using the ribbon. Not rope. Not rope.
“Now, that looks lovely. And you’re not panicking.” He came round to the front, clicked his tongue. “You have a rope phobia. Which means, presumably, I can tie you up with anything else. There’s something about seeing a woman bound and helpless.”
Claire found her chest heaving. Helpless. The word itself had a wicked ring to it. About the only thing that wrenched at her was not being able to touch Theo or make him touch her. Her nipples hardened and throbbed.
“Is this punishment?” She looked at him through her lashes.
“Ah, yes.” He grinned, gripped her chin, kissed her once, hard. “Punishment. Almost forgot.”
He popped the row of tiny cloth buttons on the bodice and opened it, exposing her breasts. Leaning down, he pushed aside the pearl strands and sucked on one nipple until the throbbing intensified, then the other, sending burning jolts to her groin. Something metal gripped one nipple and then the other, like tiny teeth closing about them. Wires trailed cold down between her breasts.