undid his belt, his zipper, and after he stepped out of his jeans, he kicked them across the room, leaving him in a pair of silk boxers.
“That’s quite a tent you’ve got there, mister.”
“I’m a big believer in camping. Now, why is it that you still have clothes on?”
“Ah, so it’s not just any camping. You like nudist camping.”
“And I’ve got all sorts of activities planned.”
She glanced at his big bed, which looked terribly inviting with the fluffy green duvet and the overstuffed goose-down pillows. “Basket weaving?”
He stepped closer to her as she slipped her panties down until they pooled on her bra. “Naw, too corny. I thought we’d learn about tying knots.”
Her head snapped up. “Oh?”
With a wicked grin he moved over to his nightstand and opened the drawer. He brought out two lengths of white rope. “Uh-huh.”
“Wait a minute…”
“You remember that question I asked you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I was going to do this after dinner, but I’m flexible.”
Her gaze stayed on the rope. It looked soft, but ropes? Being tied up?
He’d moved right in front of her, and his arms slipped around her back. “It’s going to be wonderful,” he whispered. “All you have to do is lie back and relax.”
“I don’t know about this, Camper Bob. I like to use my hands.”
“Which is a good thing. Just not tonight. Tonight, you’re going to be the pleasuree. Nothing but incredible things are going to happen to you. I promise.”
She looked up into his eyes, but she already knew that he was telling her the truth. He would never do anything to harm her. On the contrary, he was the most considerate lover she’d ever dreamt of. Which didn’t mean he couldn’t get all caveman on her. She liked that a lot. He was spontaneous and thoughtful, and man, he could go the distance. “All right,” she said, running her fingers down his back. “I’m yours. Do what you will.”
He tried for an evil laugh, but the effect was ruined when he kissed her. She felt the tent pole against her hip and it occurred to her that they probably should hurry.
He must have thought the same thing, because he led her over to the bed. She went to sit on the edge, but he stopped her, opting instead to lift her into his arms and place her carefully in the center of the king-size mattress.
Once she was there, naked, vulnerable, he lifted her arms out to her sides, toward the posts.
Her heartbeat quickened as he tied her wrist, making sure that the bond wasn’t too tight, but that she couldn’t escape. She tested it a few times, almost told him to forget it, but then she decided she had nothing to lose by experimenting.
As he tied her other wrist, she realized there had never been anyone in her life she’d trust to do this. And certainly no other man had made her this anxious and wet. She squeezed her legs together, but it didn’t help. Only one thing would.
She writhed on the comforter as he walked to the end of the bed. Smiling, taking her helpless body in with obvious delight, he shed his boxers. The “tent pole” was as stiff as she’d ever seen it, and she felt sexier than ever that she could have this effect on him.
Then he climbed onto the bed.
Her pulse raced, and despite her eagerness to try something new, her hands tugged at her bonds. It was impossible to simply lie still, especially when he lifted her right leg in his two hands, and kissed the top of her foot.
“Shh,” he said. Then he kissed the top of her ankle, and with infinite patience and great care, he moved slowly up her leg, kissing, nibbling, licking.
She’d never thought of her leg as an erogenous zone, but clearly she’d been misinformed. Because every touch, every swipe of his tongue, every caress, made her insides go all gooey.
“Be still,” he said.
“I can’t.”
He stopped moving until she met his gaze. “You can.”
She understood what he was doing, and it excited her. Tonight, it was his ball game, not hers. Of course, she was the sole recipient of his total attention, which wasn’t exactly a hardship, but still, she wasn’t used to relinquishing power. In fact, her days were pretty much designed around the concept of gaining power.
Okay. She could be still. For now.
Once she acquiesced, he still didn’t resume his ministrations until she’d lowered her gaze. Interesting. A little odd, but nice.
Especially nice because he moved more quickly up her thigh, kissing, sucking her flesh. All the wonderful things a mouth and tongue can do.
But that was only a prelude. The main action came a few moments later. His hands spread her thighs. She felt super-naked, unbelievably open, and a wee bit shy about it until she saw the hunger in his gaze.
That’s all it took. That and his masterful tongue, of course. He knew exactly what to do, exactly how hard to push, when to slow down. He teased her until she begged, then rewarded her with the focus and attention of a Zen master.
She didn’t come just once. Oh, no. If she’d had her hands free, she would have shifted, treated him to something devilish. But that wasn’t what he wanted. And, in the end, it wasn’t what she wanted either.
She came, crying out so loudly they probably heard her in the Bronx, three times. He just didn’t let up. Not until she was so wiped out, her vision faded and her voice cracked.
Then he sat up. She managed to open her eyes enough to see his satisfied smile. But the biggest surprise was when her gaze moved down past his waist. He wasn’t hard anymore.
He noticed her confusion. “Uh, the duvet is washable,” he said.
Then she got it. He’d come without the slightest touch. He’d come because he’d made her crazy. Because he’d made her weep. Because he…
“Oh, God,” she said, resting her head on the pillow. She still gasped for breath, and her body continued to shiver and quake as residual effects of her workout built and released. She felt sure that whatever pleasure sensors she had in her body were totally used up, completely empty of stores. Which was a good thing, indeed.
Somewhere out there, she felt him untie her wrists, and then he was next to her in the bed, with his arms and one leg around her. He nuzzled her neck with his soft lips, and she purred her satisfaction.
“So what did you think?” he asked.
She laughed. Well, as much as a laugh as she could muster. “Couldn’t you tell?”
“Yeah, but I want to hear you say it.”
She turned her head until her eyes met his. “You are an amazing man. I’d sign up for your camp any day.”
“So the tying-up thing works for you?”
She nodded. “Maybe not as a steady diet. But the occasional dessert…”
“Or appetizer.”
“Exactly.”
“Oh, goody.”
She giggled. “Dan, what am I going to do with you?”
He lifted his head. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
She thought for a long second, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering just enough to make her quite aware that she knew what he was going to say. But she nodded anyway. “Yes.”
“You can marry me,” he said. “Jess, I want you. I want to go to bed with you every night. I want to wake up to you every morning. I want to pack your lunch, and pick out china patterns, and I want to hear everything about your day, each day.”
She studied his handsome face, the earnestness shining in his hazel eyes. He loved her. There was no doubt
