I pushed his shirt up, closed my lips around his tight nipple before worrying it between my teeth. His cock pulsed against my belly, and I pressed tighter against him. “I’m thinking I might like a little pain with my pleasure. That okay with you?”
As an answer, his hands moved to the knot on top of my head, and soon, the long tresses were falling around my shoulders. His fingers wound through the strands, tightening, pulling my head back. “How much pain do you want?”
The intensity in his gaze made me shiver. “I honestly don’t know. More than a pat. Less than oh shit.”
He laughed. “Will I ever be able to be mad at you for more than two seconds?”
I shrugged. “If it leads to make-up sex, I hope so.”
He grew serious again. “I’m sorry for freaking out on you.”
“I’m sorry for snooping through your things.”
Gray stepped back and exhaled, his fingers moving to the belt on my robe. With a quick yank, it fell open. He pulled the belt from the loops. “Put your hands together.”
I swallowed and did as he asked. Very carefully, he wrapped the belt around them, and when he was finished binding me, his thumbs stroked over the soft skin of my inner wrists, and I realized I needed to add that spot to my list of erogenous zones. My pulse beat against his thumb, and I felt the echo of it in my temples, throat, chest… lower. It was as if an imaginary string was connected to those pulse points and the slow circular movement of his thumb was winding that string tighter and tighter.
“Do you trust me?”
The answer was immediate. “Yes.”
Gray’s mouth closed over mine in a deep, almost bruising kiss that set my heart to pounding. One hand in my hair, the other rested at the base of my throat, his palm curving over the vein where my pulse raced.
He made a harsh groaning sound against my lips that was so erotically charged that it caused my nipples to draw into buds so tight, they hurt where they pressed against his chest. Inching my fingers around his waist, I pulled him closer in an effort to ease the ache.
I was glad that my brain wasn’t needed to provide vital functions when we kissed this way because I knew I wouldn’t remember how to breathe. The kiss was deep. Taunting. Tormenting. His tongue taking its time exploring my mouth.
Outside, the sun began to rise, the light casting an orange glow in the cabin, surrounding us with a light that seemed to be filled with blessings. He turned my head so that he could nuzzle my neck, raking his teeth down my throat. Dropping his hands to the belt surrounding my wrists, he stepped away and pulled. “Follow me, woman.”
I’d follow him anywhere.
“What do you plan to do with me?”
He grinned, the little gap making a reappearance. “I have no plan, Zoe. And I have no limits.”
It could have been a punishment or a promise. Both.
Pulling on the belt, he led me to his room, then closed the door on an offended looking Maggie and Go. A shiver raced through me. The fire had died down and it had grown cool in the bedroom. The coolness was in contrast to the erotic fire burning inside me.
I loved it.
The contrast.
The duality of both sensations.
Pain. Pleasure.
Which would I love more?
I wanted to find out.
Maybe some of what I felt was a newer, darker yearning for excitement, a craving for something wicked and unknown.
As I laid down, Gray climbed up my body, pulling my bound arms over my head, securing them to the headboard. Still straddling me, he ran his hands under the t-shirt I wore and began easing it up until it covered my eyes.
Oh. My.
Robbed of my sense of sight and touch, my breathing began to come harder still. I wore no bra, giving him easy access to my breasts. He took advantage, a fingertip circling my nipple. The touch was so light I could have imagined it. Then it changed, and I arched up as he pinched and tugged at the sensitive flesh. Then he turned gentle again, licking the underside of my breasts with the flat of his tongue.
Each petting stroke lifted me higher, the nerves sizzling hot as I waited to see what he’d do next.
I cried out as his teeth sank down on my hipbone, then light, butterfly touches explored my thighs as he pulled the sleeping shorts down my legs.
“Which is better, Zoe? This…” He licked between my legs. “Or this…” He sucked my clit into his mouth, sucking hard, causing me to fight the bindings holding me captive.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating up through my sex. Then he was gone. No warning. Just gone.
The door clicked open. Closed. Then nothing. Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes as I waited for him to return.
When he did, I was fully aware of how exposed I was. Although the robe was still officially on me, my arms still in its sleeves, I was naked. Sightless. Vulnerable to him.
Every sound seemed like an explosion of noise as he sat a few things down on the nightstand. I could hear him breathing. His feet nearly catlike on the floor.
I felt it on my foot first, a soft brush of sensation that at first I thought I had imagined. Then it was back, tickling up my arch, then my shin. My thigh. Oh. I arched into the sensation as Gray dragged the feather up my stomach, and even if my eyes hadn’t been covered, I wouldn’t have been able to keep them open. It was too much. Too delicious.
My breasts felt the feather’s softness. My underarms. My throat. Then the torture repeated itself, this time tracing a path down to my toes.
As it made another journey up my body, I hissed as something warm dropped onto my stomach. It didn’t burn but it was warm, and the feeling was juxtaposed to the feather brushing up my thigh.
“Gray…”
Another drop. Another brush of the feathers. Lips hovering over mine. “Yes?”
Burn. Brush. Kiss.
“Please…”
Burn. Brush. Kiss.
“Please what, Zoe?”
The vibration of his voice only added to the sensory overload.
I didn’t know what I wanted.
He kissed one nipple, then the other. “If it’s too much or you want me to stop, say snow, and I’ll stop. Do you believe me?”
Burn. Brush. Kiss.
I writhed under his ministrations. “Yes. I believe you.”
He pulled away and there was a clicking sound.
Burn. Brush. Kiss. Cold.
I opened my mouth, accepting the ice cube he passed to me, his tongue following it in to stroke over mine.
Burn. Brush. Kiss. Cold.
This time, the cold was on my neck, traveling down my collarbone and between my breasts. He took a nipple in his icy mouth, causing gooseflesh to break out over my skin.
Burn. Brush. Kiss. Cold.
Lower. The icy kiss was on my belly button now, and he delivered the cube into my navel, chuckling as I arched against the freezing sensation.
Burn. Brush. Kiss. Cold.
Lower still. My inner thighs felt his icy tongue. I pulled at my bonds, needing to touch him.
Burn. Brush. Kiss. Cold.