I continued down the length of his back, fully immersed in the sensuality of the laces sliding through their tiny, symmetrical rings. My fingers trailed over the soft material of his shirt as more and more of it was exposed to my gaze. The final pair of grommets sat teasingly low on the small of his back, barely above his tailbone. My touch lingered there before I hooked the center of the lace and slipped the undone length free, letting it slither to the floor.
“Off,” I ordered, and Rans lowered his arms from their braced position long enough to allow the unlaced waistcoat to slide free.
The soft shirt fabric that had teased my fingertips was too tempting to resist. With the vest’s stiff boning out of my way, I pressed my body full-length against Rans’ back, my cheek resting below the nape of his neck. He held himself very still beneath my touch, his hands once more splayed against the wall in front of us.
“I love you,” I murmured against him, my hands sliding around to toy with the topmost of the tiny, mother-of-pearl buttons on his shirt. The faintest of shivers marred his perfect stillness. But when he drew breath to speak, I shushed him. “Shh. I know.”
A moment passed, and some of the tension bled out of his body along with the unneeded air. I got started on the buttons, fumbling for a moment as my brain navigated the fact that they were backwards compared to the buttons on a women’s shirt. Before long, my fingers got the hang of it and the shirt opened beneath my touch, gaping when I pulled the shirttails free and finished the last button.
“That’s better,” I said, sliding my palms over hard planes of flesh, cool to the touch.
“It’s a start,” he agreed, rallying. “Perhaps you’d care to—”
Whatever I might care to do was cut off abruptly when my hands slid lower, cupping him through the fine wool of his tailored trousers.
“You were saying?” I teased.
“Nothing important,” he said, as I stroked and kneaded the hard length.
I wished now that I’d thought to tackle the whole ‘harness and strap-on’ thing first, so I could have ground it against his ass while I was teasing him. Of course, hindsight was always twenty-twenty, wasn’t it? Instead, I compromised by sliding my body a bit to one side so I could cup and squeeze one of those tempting, muscular globes with one hand while continuing to tease his cock with the other.
I was rewarded with a low groan. “Blimey, love. Coming in my pants like a bloody teenager isn’t really how I’d pictured this evening’s festivities kicking off.”
A low swirl of desire hit me as I settled further into my position of power over the night’s happenings. I stretched up until I could speak directly into the shell of his ear. “Ah, but here’s the thing. I don’t actually need you hard for me tonight. I can fuck you just as easily either way.” And then I bit down on his earlobe at the same time I reached out and tugged on the wisps of sexual energy swirling around us. Not enough to drain him—just enough to make him feel it.
He stiffened and sucked in a tiny breath, despite not needing it for the oxygen content.
Having mercy on him, I backed off before I actually did end up precipitating an embarrassing dry-cleaning bill. His clear eyes sought me out as I stepped away and turned my back on him, shimmying out of the off-the-shoulder sheath dress, but leaving on the black lingerie and the red heels.
“So. Pegging,” I said. “You have done this before, right?” Because while I was one hundred percent on-board with the concept in general, I was going to be slightly less on board with it if neither of us knew what we were doing in practical terms.
He snorted. “Told you early on in our acquaintance, love. Seven hundred years. Long stretches of boredom. There’s very little I haven’t done at this point.”
“Good,” I told him, crossing to the bed. “In that case, come over here and help me get harnessed up. I refuse to start off the evening by putting it on backwards, or something equally embarrassing.”
He didn’t so much walk toward me as prowl, and it was a struggle not to let the sight visibly affect me. More so, when he crowded into my personal space with his shirt hanging open and his dick pressing its outline against his trousers. Rather than touch me, though, he reached past me to retrieve the package from the bed and open it.
“Right. Knickers off,” he said, setting it aside.
I didn’t comment on the bossy tone—I’d asked him to help, after all. Besides, I was enjoying the way he went down on his knees, fingertips hooking in the lace of my panties and dragging them down my legs as he knelt. I also didn’t complain when he leaned forward to press a close-mouthed kiss to my mons, or when his fingers stroked along my lips to gauge my level of excitement.
Spoiler alert—I was wet. Shocking, I know.
It would be all too easy to grab him by the hair and pull his mouth to me, especially since I knew full well he’d be perfectly content to lick an orgasm or two out of me before we’d even gotten started properly. But I also didn’t want to end up a wrung-out mess this early in the game. I had other things to worry about tonight.
“Focus,” I said, not sure which of us I was directing it toward.
He hummed a noise of regret and removed the harness from its packaging. “If you insist. All right then—step into this for me.”
I lifted first one foot and then the other into the loops of leather, careful not to hook them with my high heels. Rans slid the harness up the length of my legs and tightened a third strap around my waist, adjusting
