Chapter 23
Well, this is…interesting.
Cuan had never thought to find himself voluntarily tied spread-eagled to a bed. It was a very odd sensation. He was acutely aware of how naked and exposed he was, and yet, and yet…
Somehow, it was not entirely unpleasant.
Tamsin finished tying the last knot, and sat back on her heels. “Is that okay? Not too tight?”
Cuan cautiously tested his bonds. He had a little slack around his wrists and ankles, but not enough to allow him to slip free.
“I am comfortable enough,” he said. “And certainly…secure.”
Tamsin ran her fingers down the soft, smooth surface of the rope, looking a little dubious. “You’re sure this stuff won’t break? It’s a bit thin.”
“I am certain. This is moth-silk, harvested and woven by the southern wood-sidhe. I have trusted my entire weight to it many times. Though, ah, under very different circumstances.”
Tamsin grinned, her eyes shining with anticipation. “Just in case this turns out not to be your thing, we need to establish a safe word. If you say it, I’ll stop immediately, okay?”
He frowned. “Something like…‘stop’? Or ‘mercy’?”
She trailed a finger down the rope and along the taut line of his arm. She brushed the edge of his faemarks, and his breath caught.
“Sometimes,” she murmured, bending over him, “begging for mercy is part of the fun.”
Her tongue swirled over his bicep. The ropes bit into his wrist.
“Shining Ones.” His voice was already ragged, and she’d barely touched him. “I believe I am beginning to understand the appeal. It needs to be an odd word, then? Something unrelated to, ah, what is occurring?”
“That’s right. A safe word needs to be something that you wouldn’t say accidentally. Something that will get my attention.”
He struggled to think of something appropriate. With her mouth nipping lightly at his brightening faemarks, it was becoming difficult to think of any words. Except perhaps more, and harder, and now.
“Angus,” he managed to get out.
Tamsin sat up, looking down at him with one eyebrow raised. “Angus?”
“It is a name I am unlikely to shout in the throes of passion.”
Tamsin giggled. “Angus it is, then. And tell me if I’m doing anything you don’t like, okay? We’ll take this slowly.”
He gasped as she bent over him again, turning her attention to his shoulder. “Not too slowly, I beg you.”
“Ah.” Her warm breath whispered across his glowing faemarks, making his skin prickle with electric sparks. “Now you’re getting the idea.”
All thought dissolved under the hot press of her tongue. She traced every line, working her way across his torso with maddening slowness, while he panted and clenched his teeth and tried very hard not to swear.
“Tamsin,” he gasped as her tongue taunted his taut nipple. “Sweet gods, woman!”
She paused, meeting his eyes. Her own were dark and languid, filled with sly pleasure, even though he had yet to touch her in return.
“Safe word?” she murmured.
Shining Ones, he was tempted. His whole body screamed with the need to set her alight, as she had him. She was the one who should be shaking with need, on the verge of release.
But that look in her eyes…
She was enjoying this. In some strange way, tormenting him with pleasure was arousing to her as well. Although she was still fully dressed, he could scent the liquid desire beading her flushed, secret folds.