“Now, how do you think I should have you apologize?”
She dropped her focus to the floorboards, listening to the steady beat of her heart. The tips of his boots came into view. “I’ll do whatever you’d like me to.”
“Present your back to me, arms behind you.”
She sat back on her legs and then hinged forward, chest to thighs. Her face ended up hovering inches above his boot. She’d joked with him early on that she’d never kiss a man’s shoe—had scoffed at the idea. But as she stared at it in front of her now, she was suddenly mesmerized by the symbol of all that represented this man—tough, unpretentious, and scuffed in a way that made it more beautiful. And as if the desire had always been there, waiting until she was ready to accept it, she knew the perfect way to apologize. She lowered her head and pressed her lips to the warm leather.
For once, the sharp intake of breath wasn’t her own. She closed her eyes, his approval falling over her like soft rain. She’d pleased him. And even if she still didn’t fully understand why that affected her so deeply, she felt the stir inside her, the rightness. They both stayed there in a moment that seemed to stretch as wide as the land surrounding the cabin.
Finally, he shifted and she raised her head. His gaze hit her like a branding iron, a permanent sear to her system. He captured her face in his hands. “I’m going to take such good care of you, sweet Charlotte. I won’t let a day pass where I don’t show you how much you mean to me or how much I value the gift of your trust.”
His words moved over her like soft strokes, his stripped-to-the-studs declaration smoothing any sharp places left inside her. She smiled, blinking through the hazy shield of unshed tears. “Just love me, Grant.”
“I already do.” He claimed her mouth, a slow languid dance, and she could feel everything in that kiss. The years of loss he’d been through, the ache for her in the moment, and the promise of all that was to come.
When he broke away from the kiss, there was fire in his eyes, a predatory flash. A ripple of delicious fear skated over her nerve endings. She loved his sweetness, the tender way he could make her melt. But that darkness that lay in wait for times like these fed something deep and primal inside her. She craved his control, his marks, the pain she knew would push her up and over the edge to pleasure.
She’d sensed him holding back with her since she’d moved in, as if he was afraid to really let her see the extent of that side of him. But the way he was looking at her now was anything but tentative.
“On your feet, Charlotte.”
She climbed to a stand, and he grabbed her by the back of the neck, nudging her forward. “Kissing my boot is very much appreciated, but it’s not going to get you out of what I have planned for you. Walk.”
He led her into the bedroom and released his grip. “Strip the bed of all but the bottom sheet, then lie on your stomach.”
“Yes, sir.” She did as she was told, hurrying to yank the duvet and blankets from the bed and dumping them into a corner. Then she climbed onto the bed and lay down.
His hands were on her in an instant, wrapping rope around her wrists and ankles, stretching her into a facedown X position on the bed and knotting the rope at the far corners of the headboard and footboard. She tried to wriggle, testing the slack, but she was pressed tight to the bed with no give. A little wave of panic shimmered over her. He’d never bound her to where she couldn’t move at all.
“Boy, you look pretty like this,” Grant said, stalking around the bed and stepping out of her line of sight. She strained her ears, trying to determine exactly where he was but still flinched when he finally touched her. His palm cupped her sex from behind, spreading her and painting her with her own juices. “All spread and slick for me. Very nice.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, the ache for him overtaking any lingering anxiety over her helpless position. She knew if he’d taken the time to tie her, he wasn’t going to rush things. The thought was simultaneously enticing and maddening. He dipped his fingers inside her and grazed his thumb over her clit. Yes. She pressed her hips downward, seeking more pressure, but he moved his hand away.
“I’m thinking fair punishment is that you wait for me as long as I had to wait for you today. Which by my estimation was…an hour and ten minutes.”
Oh, shit.
An hour of teasing? She wouldn’t make it. She’d dissolve into desperation if he made her hold off that long. “Please. I’m so sorry, sir.”
He scoffed. “I’m sure you are…now. Which, by the way, is an hour and eleven minutes too late.”
“I’m—”
“Hush.”
The ominous sound of him unzipping his “goody” bag had her breath quickening and her pulse hopping into her throat. Of course, he’d placed his stuff far out of her view so she had no idea what his evil plan may be. She turned her head, the one movement she could manage, but all she could see was his back reflected in the mirror over the dresser as he hunched over his bag.
He turned around, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “Worried, love?”
“Maybe.”
His grin bordered on sinister. “Smart girl.”
The bed dipped as he climbed behind her, making the sheet brush against her already sensitized skin. He placed a hand on her hip first and then slid it down her thigh. “Hold still.”
“Yes, sir.” As if she had a choice.
Cool silicon nudged her sex, then slid between her and the bed, pressing against her clit. He flipped on the switch, and the powerful hum of the vibrator filled the space.