She is in control. And she has had so little control over anything, recently…
He bit back the safe word, and shook his head.
Her mouth curved in a catlike smile. “Good. Then you get a reward.”
Her mouth closed over his nipple, as her nails raked down his flanks. He arched up off the bed, helplessly, near blinded by the shock of sensation. His whole being seemed to rush down to his groin, tightening.
“Shh.” She bit at him, just a tiny shock of pain, bringing him back from the brink. “Not yet. Not yet.”
She slipped off him, and he could have wept for the loss. The air felt cold against his burning faemarks. He tried to lift his head, but she’d tied his bonds too well. The cords fastened to his collar kept him from following her with his gaze.
All he could do was stare at the ceiling, nails biting into his palms, straining every sense. Her scent, elusive and intoxicating, fading a little as she moved away. The soft rustle of cloth. Her bare feet on the stones, padding back…
She straddled his chest again, and all the air rushed out of his lungs.
Her curves showed through the barely-there silk, ripe and succulent. Stars spangled her dark skin. Swathed in those gauzy layers of indigo and deepest purple, she could have been the Mother of Night herself, come down from the heavens.
“Please.” He strained against his bonds, with his full strength, but they held fast. “Please-!”
He wasn’t even sure what he was begging for. To touch her, to worship her, to bury himself in her body…he just needed, with his whole being, his whole soul.
She smiled at him, like a goddess, amused and glorious and maddeningly untouchable. Silk brushed his skin as she leaned over him once more.
“Now,” she murmured, kissing the hollow between his clenched abdominal muscles. “Where was I?”
He lost all track of time. All sense of everything but her. He had always been here, in this sweet place of exquisite frustration and painful ecstasy. He would always be here. He was hers, always, forever.
He was totally in her hands. And she would do with him as she pleased.
He nearly sobbed with relief when she straddled his head, parting the filmy layers of her skirts. He buried himself in her folds like a dying man finding an oasis in an endless desert. Her sweet release filled his mouth, better than anything he had ever tasted.
All too soon she moved off him, though he snarled and strained at his bonds. She moved further down, legs spreading. She was ready for him, so ready. Her wet heat was close, so close—
She kept going, her slickness sliding over the underside of his straining shaft. He did swear then, guttural curses and broken words, arcing his back in the desperate need to sink himself deep into her body.
Tamsin ignored his pleas. She went lower, lower, her tongue trailing down his knotted abdomen.
Her lips closed over his shaft.
The ropes did not break.
The bed, however, did.