“Are you on the pill?” he asked her, making sure she knew exactly what he was asking for.
A wry smile curved her lovely mouth. “Always.”
He nodded. “I’m clean.”
Hesitation stiffened her body. “I am too, but I still want you to use a condom. Just, you know, in case.” She bit her lip.
In case the pill failed? She didn’t want to be left alone and pregnant again? For a moment, he felt like the world’s biggest ass**le. He’d left the woman he loved pregnant and abandoned all those years ago. “Condoms,” he agreed thickly. He went to his bathroom and dug through the toiletries packed by one of his assistants. He always kept condoms on hand, and found a strip of them after a moment’s searching. Taking one in hand, he returned from the bathroom, placed it on a nightstand, and saw her face lined with worry again.
He hated that she was so anxious about what should be a beautiful act of love. It had been love between them once. Jonathan resolved that it would be again. He’d make her lose that worry. He wanted her to drown in his touch, not stress about whether she would get pregnant again.
This would be all about her, once more.
Striding across the room to her, Jonathan took Violet in his arms and kissed her again. The kiss started out soft and sweet, a gentle press of lips. When her mouth parted under his and her body relaxed, his kisses became more focused, more intense. His tongue feathered over her soft lips in a tease, and when she gave a soft little gasp of pleasure, he nearly groaned in response. God, he loved this woman. “Let me make love to you, Violet. Let me worship you. Let me give you nothing but pleasure. Let me show you how much I adore you.”
She nodded, and he felt her head move against his, ever so slightly, felt the tension in her fingers as she curled them against his chest. She was clinging to him, but not quite lost in the moment yet. He had to break through that fear of hers, that wariness that kept her from losing herself to him. What would it take? He remembered her response to him on the plane. That had been sweetly beautiful. Had she been off her guard and that was how he’d been able to break down her defenses?
Was it time for him to take her off her guard again? Did Violet have to be pushed out from behind her walls in order for her to enjoy herself with him once more?
If that was what it took, he’d do it. He’d give anything to see her screaming her pleasure again. His mind filled with glorious images of her on the plane, her hands pressed to his head as her h*ps quaked against his face, and his mouth was filled with the delicious taste of her.
He groaned in pain and need. God, he needed that again.
“What is it?” she whispered, her fingers tightening on his jacket.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice a little harsher than he’d intended.
She blinked up at him, surprised. “I . . . Why?”
“Just answer me, Violet. Do you trust me?”
Violet stared up at him for so long that he thought she would answer in the negative. Her gaze searched his face, and then after what felt like forever, she nodded slowly. “I trust you,” she whispered.
“Good.” That surge of possessiveness slammed through him again. His fingers worked through her hair, then cupped her sweet face. “Good.”
She tilted her face toward him, eyes closed, implicitly trusting him.
And that gave him an idea.
“I want to tie you up, Violet.”
Her eyes widened. “W-what?”
But as soon as he said it aloud, he knew it was a perfect idea. “You trust me, right? Let me tie you up.” It would push her trust past just verbal assurance and into a physical realm. She would truly have to trust him to let him tie her up and do what he wanted to her. It would require more than just lip service. He wanted to be absolutely sure that she trusted him. That she wasn’t just saying it.
Her eyelashes fluttered, and he watched indecision cross her face. Then, after a long moment of doubt, she slowly nodded. “I . . . All right.” She glanced at the bed, then at him. “How do you want to do this?”
“Get on the bed,” he told her. “Remove your clothes for me.”
She trembled visibly, but nodded. He loved her willingness. He wanted to shower her with kisses all over again, but that would have to wait.
As she moved toward the bed, he turned to his dresser and pulled out two silk neckties. He carried them with him at all times, in case of impromptu meetings or important business visitors, and now they were perfect for what he wanted. He tied the smaller ends together to create one long, soft rope, and then turned back toward Violet and the bed.
She sat on the edge of the bed and had removed her silky, flowing top and cast it on the floor while he’d been preoccupied with his neckties. She’d pulled off her leggings, too, and now wore nothing but a black pair of high-cut panties and a black lacy bra that seemed designed more for enticement than functionality. Had she dressed with the intention of seducing him, then? The thought sent a thrill through his body, that the woman he’d lusted after and dreamed of for so long was in his bed, and had come after him.
He was determined not to disappoint her.
Approaching the bed, he extended the ties in his hand out to her. “Are you sure you wish to do this, Violet? I won’t hold it against you if you change your mind.”
She looked down at the ties, licked her lips, then gazed up at him. “I want this.”
He brushed his fingers over the curve of her cheek. “If you get frightened, what’s your safe word?”
Violet thought for a moment. “Stop?”
He chuckled, still tracing her face with his fingertips, fascinated by the way she leaned into his touch. “It’s supposed to be something you wouldn’t call out in the heat of passion.”
“Well, I should hope I wouldn’t be screaming out ‘stop,’” she told him, sounding a bit peeved.
“Pick something unusual, that I wouldn’t expect you to call out.”
A wicked gleam shone in her eyes. “Daddy?”
“You’re really trying to kill my erection, aren’t you?” But he laughed.
She grinned, and that weird tension between them dissipated. “Who was the poet from earlier?”
“Pushkin?”
To his surprise, she gave a prim shake of her head. “Sounds awfully close to ‘push it in.’ Maybe I should pick a different safe word. Let’s go with Ozymandias.”
He grinned. Count on his Violet to give a safe word—something he didn’t intend on her needing to use—such thorough consideration. “All right then, Ozymandias it is. Now, give me your hands.”
She held them out, wrists up and together in the air, the look on her face full of trust and nervousness.
He felt like he was being given a gift. Jonathan took her wrists in his hands and gently placed a kiss on each one. “Before we begin, I want to say thank you, Violet.”
She looked surprised. “Thank you?”
“For trusting me.” The ache in his throat left it knotted. Did she not realize how much her trust in him moved him?
She gave him a tremulous smile. “I do trust you. I’m just scared to.”
He’d make sure he never betrayed that trust again. Carefully, he wrapped her wrists in the silk of the tie in a figure eight motion and then wove the fabric through the middle again. “Too tight?”
She tested her hands. “No, it’s fine.”
“Good. I want to tie these to the headboard now.” He moved to the side and fluffed the pillows on his bed into a big stack, then gestured that she should lay back on them. “Here.”
Her eyes widened but she nodded. Glancing behind her, she scooted back on the bed with little wiggles of her body that made him hot with need. When she finally backed up against the pillows, she lay down and experimentally raised her hands above her head.
“Perfect.” Jonathan grasped the tie dangling between her wrists and examined the headboard. It was thick, heavy wood with a cutout Greek key design that was ideal for him to secure his knots. He slid one end of the tie through and knotted it. “Still good?”
She nodded. “Do you do this a lot? I feel like I should ask that.”
“Never,” he told her. “Never had the urge before now.”
She thought for a moment. “I’m guessing this is a bad time to ask, but . . . did you have anyone seriously after we, you know . . .”
“No,” he told her honestly. “For me, there has never been anyone but you.”
“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or terrifies me.” Her hands twisted against the ties, testing them.
“Why should it terrify you?” He trailed his fingers down one extended arm. Her skin was so soft.
“Because I feel like I can’t live up to any image in your head you have of me from back then. I’m not the same person.”
“I know.” This Violet was more guarded, and when she let him in under her walls, intensely more vulnerable. “I don’t mind the changes. In fact, I love them.”
“My ass isn’t as small as it was—”
“Your ass is beautiful.” His hand moved down her side, skimmed her hip.
She snorted.
“It’s true. It’s big and juicy and I’d love to take a bite out of it.”
She gave a nervous giggle at that.
“What?” he asked, chuckling a bit himself. “I can’t want to sink my teeth into that creamy skin of yours?”
“You make me sound like dinner.”
“No, you’re dessert. Sweet, delicious, and I can’t wait to taste you on my lips.”
Her breath caught in her throat and he watched her lashes flutter again.
“Shall I get undressed?” he asked her, skimming his hand down one lovely thigh.
She nodded, silent.
His hands went to his belt and he began to slowly unbuckle it. Jonathan was pleased that her gaze went to his waist and she watched him, eyes hot, as he slid his belt out of the loops and dropped it to the ground, then unbuttoned his pants and dropped them. His c**k was hard and aching through his boxers. It would have to wait for relief. He intended on making Violet come until she was limp with pleasure. And then maybe once more after that.
With that thought in mind, Jonathan dropped his boxers and stepped out of his clothing.
Her eyes widened and she licked her lips at the sight of him, which just made him harder. “I forgot how good you look naked. That’s so unfair.”
“How is that unfair?” He took his c**k in hand and slowly stroked it, tip to balls, just to watch her reaction. Sure enough, her gaze followed his hand, riveted. He liked that.
“Because you shouldn’t look that delicious. Here I was trying to get over you, and you look better than ever. I mean, you’ve got a six-pack practically up to your throat.”
As he stroked his hand down his c**k again, her gaze followed and she licked her lips once more, then made a soft whimper in her throat.
“Are you just going to sit there and tease me?” she asked.
“Nothing wrong with a bit of teasing,” Jonathan told her, and gave his c**k another fierce stroke with his hand, enjoying the way her eyes gleamed in response. “Whets the appetite.”
“But I already had a healthy appetite,” she told him.
“Mmm. Healthy, but not ravenous.”
“And are you ravenous?”
“For you, I am.”
She gave a little shiver. “Then show me.”
How could he resist that suggestion?
Jonathan took a few steps toward the bed and crawled in next to her, his gaze locked on her face. He watched her nervous eyes flicker over his body as he draped his bigger form over hers, and then he was on all fours over her helpless form. Her body was trapped below his. Jonathan grinned down at her, feeling wickedly in control. He liked that Violet was his to do with as he liked, and he intended to exercise that control. “Still trust me?”