From This Moment On
Once her hands and arms were out of the way, he reached for the zipper of the loose sweater Lori had loaned her at the end of their very long day. “Do you remember what we agreed on this morning?” he asked her as he slowly drew the zipper down.
“Yes,” she said, the sound more a breath than a word. “I remember.”
“Good,” he said, and then, “Tell me.”
Oh God, that breathing thing was getting harder by the second, especially with his hands brushing over her br**sts as he pulled the sweater open.
“While we’re together—” She took a shaky breath. She knew she didn’t have to say it, but something inside her wanted to, wanted to please him. “—my body is as much yours as it is mine.”
His eyes flared with approval...and so much desire it took what was left of her breath away. “Take your sweater and tank top off and then lie back with your hands above your head again.”
Apart from the massage, he hadn’t even really touched her yet, and she was already soaked between her thighs from nothing more than his sexy commands. Perhaps she shouldn’t still be surprised at her reaction to his gentle dominance, to the fact that her body clearly loved it, but she was.
“Have you ever been spanked, Nicola?”
Her eyes flew to his as his shocking question yanked her from her musings. “Spanked?"
Her pulse began to flutter even more wildly at the thought of being laid out over his lap, bared to him from the waist down, his big hand coming down over her skin.
“No.” She shook her head. “Of course not.”
His mouth curved up at the corners at her reaction. But instead of saying anything more about spanking, he said, “What did I ask you to do?”
She suddenly realized that she hadn’t yet taken off her sweater or tank top. She was torn for a split second between leaving them on and risking a spanking—a flood of arousal shot through her at the shocking thought—or doing as he asked.
Fear of the unknown—and of her own surprising desires—had her moving quickly to do as he asked.
When she was naked from the waist up, she lay back against the pillow and started to lift her arms. But even though Marcus was more than a little familiar with her br**sts by now, she was still shy about baring herself to a man like this.
“You’re doing beautifully.”
His sweet words combined with the warmth in his eyes had her finally lifting her arms all the way up.
She expected him to touch, to fondle, to taste. Instead, he simply looked at her, for so long that she almost started begging. Finally, he surprised her by picking up her sweater and tying it around her wrists.
“Try to move your hands so I can see how tight that is.”
His voice was husky, rich with desire. She moved her arms and found the binding to be soft against her skin, and yet, she knew she’d have to work quite hard if she wanted to be set free.
Two days ago, she would have sworn she would never let herself be put in a position like this. She should be pulling free. But she didn’t want to, did she?
As if he were privy to the silent questions she was asking herself, Marcus said, “Tell me what you need, Nicola. Tell me what you want.”
He put his hands on her waist, his tanned skin dark against her pale belly. She shivered at how small she was compared to him, at the knowledge that he could do anything he wanted to her right now, that she was completely helpless against his strength. Those thoughts shouldn’t have made her more aroused. But, shockingly, they did.
“If you won’t tell me, I’ll just have to guess,” he said before leaning over her bare torso. His hair tickled the underside of her chin as he pressed his mouth to her shoulder for just long enough that she was seared with his heat before he sat back.
She wasn’t used to voicing her sexual needs, but they were strong enough that she forgot all about keeping her hands above her head. She started to reach for him before remembering her hands were bound.
By Marcus.
Obviously seeing the flare of desire in her eyes, he said, “That’s right, kitten. You’re all mine to play with right now, aren’t you?”
Seriously, for all that she portrayed a sex bomb for the world, she was a feminist. Girl power was her thing. She should be freaking out right now.
Not practically coming at the thought of being all his to play with.
“This isn’t—” She didn’t know how to tell him what she was feeling, but somehow she knew it was important that she did. “I shouldn’t be feeling like this.”
“Tell me what you’re feeling."
His low voice that rumbled over her, through her, made her want to give up all her secrets, all her desires that she hadn’t even known were there, waiting to be uncovered this whole time.
“This isn’t me. I don’t like being bossed around.”
She swore he almost smiled and strangely, instead of being angered by it, instead of feeling like he was laughing at her, it made her feel like maybe she wasn’t so weird after all to be liking these things he was saying—and doing—to her.
“Am I bossing you around?”
She was about to say yes, when she realized it wasn’t precisely true. “You tell me to do things,” she whispered, unable to look at him now, feeling more shy than she ever had before. “I shouldn’t do them.” She could feel how hot her face was. “I shouldn’t like doing them.”
His fingers slid beneath her chin and gently tipped her face back up to his. “I love watching you respond to me. I love watching the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen tremble with desire in front of me. I love hearing you beg me to touch you, to kiss you, to take you.”