Page 89 of Pursuing Desire

“I can see you’re going to have a hard time following my rules,” he says into my ear. “I think I need to make sure you do.”

The silky threat sends delicate shivers down my body, and my nerve endings fire in anticipation. There’s still a lightness, a playfulness in his voice, but he’s letting me know he’s in charge.

And hell yeah, I’m so here for it. All of it.

The sound of the bedside table drawer being opened is loud in the quiet room. I’m frozen and locked into place as I wait to see what he’s doing. When he pulls out the handcuffs, I gulp in a startled breath.

My eyes fly to his, and he’s looking at me with a questioning look. His eyebrows are cocked, and he’s patiently waiting for my reaction as he strokes the black fur that covers the cuffs.

He moves the cuffs to my hand and rubs my wrist against the fur. The chains that hold the cuffs together make a low clanking metal sound as they hit each other. My ears perk at the sound, and instead of being afraid, I’m intrigued.

“So, my little witch, are you going to behave and do what I say, or do I need to ensure you do what you’re told? I’ll give you the option,” he says.

My head is swimming. I’ve never done anything like this before and never thought I wanted to. The thought of giving someone else control over me has never appealed to me. Until now. I’m thankful for the wine that’s made me a little tipsy and is giving me the courage I need to do what my body is begging me to do.

My tongue darts out to wet my suddenly dry lips. “Unfortunately, I’m not very good at doing what I’m told. I might need some . . . help with that.”

The satisfied gleam in his eyes tells me I’ve pleased him with my answer. He nods just once. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

He takes my wrist and places a warm kiss on the inside. Before I know what he’s done, the delicate bracelet is locked on my wrist. He repeats the motions with my second wrist. I watch in fascination as he takes the other ends of the cuffs and locks them to the bedposts behind me on either side of my head.

There’s enough slack in the chains that I can comfortably lay them on the pillow by my head. The cuffs on my wrist are tight enough to let me know they’re on me, but not too tight to be uncomfortable. Still, this is completely new to me, and I find myself in strange territory, unsure how to feel.

“Don’t I need a safeword or something?” I ask hesitantly, unsure of exactly what is going to happen.

He laughs softly. “No. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want. I promise. You don’t need to worry.”

“What if I decide I don’t want to be handcuffed?” I ask, just to make sure.

“I’ll let you go the moment you want me to. Okay? If you really want a safe word, though, how about . . . banana?”

“Banana?” A breathy giggle escapes my lips.

“And now that we have that settled, we can move on,” Dax says.

He reaches back to the drawer and pulls out a scrap of black material. This time, he doesn’t hesitate or ask permission. He places the blindfold over my eyes and ties it tightly behind my head.

I’m plunged into darkness, and for a moment, I wonder if this will be too much. I can’t see him, but he’s able to see every inch of me. He can do whatever he wants, and I can’t stop him. I know I should feel scared or nervous to be bound like this and unable to see.

Except I’m not nervous. I’m not scared.

My limbs are all tingly, and there’s a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. Not being able to see has made my other senses go on overload.

I feel the bed move again as he stretches out beside me, his body molding to mine. His hand grazes my belly, and his mouth soon follows. I feel the quick kisses along my belly, abdomen, and ribs.

I move my hands to grasp his head, but the clank of the metal reminds me I won’t be able to go far enough.

I sense Dax lifting his head. “Trying to break the rules already?”

“No,” I deny quickly.

He must be satisfied with my answer because he goes back to work. His fingertip traces a path from my belly button to the underside of my breast, and then his tongue follows. The slow torture has me gritting my teeth, and when he finally takes a waiting nipple into his mouth, I almost sigh in relief.

I arch my back up, silently asking him to increase the pressure of his mouth on my breast. He grunts in response and puts his hand on my hip to force me back down. Instead of giving me more, he lifts his mouth and uses his tongue to lap at my nipple.

His weight shifts, and now his body is half covering mine. One leg is thrown over mine, locking my body into place. I feel the heavy weight of his cock pressed up against my thigh. He presses his face into my neck, licking and biting. Again, I try to arch up against him, and I’m relieved when he allows it this time.

I’m completely unprepared for his finger when he suddenly plunges into my hot, aching center. First, one finger, then another.