"You had scarves tied to bed posts when you took me to the hotel." She pressed her lips together, then continued. "Is that--is that something you'd like?"
Hell yes.
He tilted his head. "Is it something you want?"
"With you?" She drew in a breath and nodded. "Yes."
He chuckled. "Well, I'm damn sure not letting anybody else tie you up. But only if you're sure."
She nodded, though she looked a little hesitant. "I trust you, Spence," she said, her eyes locked on his. "I'm sure."
Bondage wasn't terrifying, Brooke thought. It was sensual, exciting, and deliciously exhilarating.
Of course, the key to that assessment was Spencer. Because if anyone else had rummaged in her top dresser drawer for more scarves and then told her that he was going to tie her down and have his way with her--well, she would have either passed out or run like the wind.
With Spencer, she'd trembled. But it had been a good feeling. Anticipation rather than apprehension.
And when he'd told her to strip for him, she'd done so slowly, knowing that his eyes were on her, and that with each bit of skin she exposed, she was driving him a little bit crazy.
Once she was naked, he'd told her to get on the bed, where the four scarves were tied to the head and footboard of her antique, wrought-iron bedframe. She'd hesitated for just an instant, and he'd kissed her bare shoulder and whispered, "Pumpernickel."
The word was so absurd that she'd laughed, but he told her he was serious. That was the word to use if she freaked out. Say that, and he'd have her loose in a heartbeat.
She believed him, and that sudden rush of absolute trust wiped away the tendrils of fear. She'd climbed on the bed and let him tie down her wrists and ankles.
Once bound, she'd closed her eyes, assessing how she felt, and was surprised to realize that the dominant emotion was anticipation. She didn't know what was coming next--not exactly, anyway--and she knew perfectly well that she was tied fast to the bed--and yet her heart pounded with a wild excitement and her body burned with need. Her breasts felt heavy, as if begging to be touched. Her legs were wide, leaving her exposed, and the thought that Spencer would see her open and ready for him didn't make her shy. On the contrary, she felt oddly powerful.
Yeah. Definitely exhilarating.
And wonderful, too. Because after Brian, any movie or book with any sort of bondage scene had made her stomach curdle. And, honestly, she knew that hadn't really changed. Because it wasn't the idea of being tied down that she was now open to. It was the idea of being tied down by Spencer.
"I'm going to blindfold you," he said now, which added an entirely new layer to the situation. For a moment she hesitated, but this was all about trust, and so she nodded as he tied one more scarf, this one a deep purple, over her eyes.
"Do you know why bondage is so powerful? It's more than just being about submission. It's about experiencing pleasure to the maximum."
"I don't know what you mean," she said.
"You will," he told her, and a few short minutes later, she realized he was right.
He'd started slowly, his fingertips tracing patterns on her skin. His mouth trailing kisses over her body. But then he stepped up the sensual torment. Teasing her erogenous zones. Sucking hard on her nipples, nibbling at her earlobe, licking the back of her knee. And, yes, teasing her clit mercilessly.
And with each stroke and each tease, the pleasure built and built until she twisted away, trying to escape it for just a little while, trying to bring a pleasure so intense that it bordered on pain back to a level that didn't have her body trembling and craving.
Trying, in other words, to gain back a modicum of control.
Bound, it was impossible. She didn't just experience pleasure, she endured it. And as that pleasure built and grew and rose and climbed, she couldn't deny that it was probably the most erotic experience of her life.
"Please," she begged, when she couldn't take it any more. When his teasing her in one spot and then moving to another had her body so on edge that it felt like every cell was on fire. "Please, Spencer, take me over."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, oh, please yes."
He used his mouth and expert tongue to take her the rest of the way, his hands holding her hips as she tried to squirm and twist under the unrelenting onslaught of pleasure. But it was no use, and she felt the power of a massive orgasm building inside of her, drawing her higher and higher until, finally, the intensity of sensations knocked her over the edge, sending her hurtling wildly into a maelstrom that rivaled the most violent of thunderstorms.
When, finally, she was breathing regularly again, Spencer untied he
r, then held her gently as she sighed with complete satisfaction. "Amazing," she said. "Wanna do it again?"