explore her mouth. The sweep of it against her acted like a goad. She strained against the cuffs holding her so still, and realized that she strained for the feel of his body against hers. Her breasts were aching for his touch, and the slender band of flesh between her legs was throbbing with unaccustomed need. It felt full, swollen.
He stepped away, shrugged out of his jacket and ripped his tie away with impatient jerks of his hands, his eyes not leaving her face. The knife stayed in his hand, though. And this time, when he came to her, the knife slid beneath the hem of her black shirt and slid upwards.
The knife was very sharp, and the elasticized cotton threads parted with little resistance. The shirt spread open as he slide the knife up the middle of it, to the high collar at the base of her neck. He sliced through the collar with a tiny tug, then tossed the knife on the bed behind her. He looked at her face. “Tell me to stop.” His voice was a rasping shadow of itself. “Tell me I’m the only one feeling this...whatever it is.”
“You’re the only one.” But it sounded unconvincing even to her.
His groan was low, and made the base of her stomach, low down, clench and throb. His hands trembled as they fitted themselves around her now bare waist. His gaze traveled the length of the long line of bare flesh the knife had revealed, all the way to her throat. “You’re bare beneath. No bra.”
“Undergarments are...restricting, when I work.”
His hands slid higher under the shirt, and she gasped as they found the taut flesh over her ribs. Her breasts were aching with anticipation. A few more inches higher, and his long fingers would curl over them, would bump against the hard, sensitive nipples that the loose cotton shirt were softly rubbing against, driving her need for him even higher.
He kissed her. This time it was a real kiss, bereft of anger but filled with promise. Her body pulsed in reaction. As his hands swept up her torso she sucked in her breath in a sharp gasp—but they by-passed her breasts and pushed the cotton spandex back over her shoulders. Out of the way.
Only her arms were bound, and the shirt couldn’t drop to the floor behind her.
He gave an impatient growl, and gripped the neck of the shirt with both hands and tore it from her, the tough cotton parting with slow, deep tearing sounds. When she was finally naked from the waist up, he wrapped his hands around her waist again and let his fingers slide up along her back. The thumbs caressed her flesh. His expression was like that of a man who had gone too long without a favoured delicacy—or perhaps that of a man who had been stunned by good luck and was savouring it while it lasted.
Finally, finally , his thumbs caressed the underside of her breasts, and she had to close her eyes in reaction to the sharp pleasure spearing her at that simple touch.
She kept her jaw clamped tight against the betraying gasp that tried to escape her. “Just what do you think you’re doing, Cadogan?”
His smile was a ghost of the real thing, almost touching his lips, but not quite. “ You wouldn’t hear the truth even if I spoke it, so why don’t you consider this my payback?”
Chapter Two
“You would descend to rape as punishment?” Delly
“You were stealing from me.” He smiled, and this time it did reach his lips. “And this is not rape. You’ve got good at the lies that come from your mouth, but your body is telling me something else, Delly Alexander.”
“It’s telling you to fuck off.”
“Fucking is certainly part of it,” he agreed, the smile blossoming. He dropped to his knees before her, and Delly sucked in her breathe in reaction. His face was level with her cleft, and that prompted all sorts of images and feelings that left her wilting and breathless.
He took the knife to her pants, one leg at a time, carefully drawing a long line up the middle of each leg with the blade, from hem to waist. He left the last
He stepped away, shrugged out of his jacket and ripped his tie away with impatient jerks of his hands, his eyes not leaving her face. The knife stayed in his hand, though. And this time, when he came to her, the knife slid beneath the hem of her black shirt and slid upwards.
The knife was very sharp, and the elasticized cotton threads parted with little resistance. The shirt spread open as he slide the knife up the middle of it, to the high collar at the base of her neck. He sliced through the collar with a tiny tug, then tossed the knife on the bed behind her. He looked at her face. “Tell me to stop.” His voice was a rasping shadow of itself. “Tell me I’m the only one feeling this...whatever it is.”
“You’re the only one.” But it sounded unconvincing even to her.
His groan was low, and made the base of her stomach, low down, clench and throb. His hands trembled as they fitted themselves around her now bare waist. His gaze traveled the length of the long line of bare flesh the knife had revealed, all the way to her throat. “You’re bare beneath. No bra.”
“Undergarments are...restricting, when I work.”
His hands slid higher under the shirt, and she gasped as they found the taut flesh over her ribs. Her breasts were aching with anticipation. A few more inches higher, and his long fingers would curl over them, would bump against the hard, sensitive nipples that the loose cotton shirt were softly rubbing against, driving her need for him even higher.
He kissed her. This time it was a real kiss, bereft of anger but filled with promise. Her body pulsed in reaction. As his hands swept up her torso she sucked in her breath in a sharp gasp—but they by-passed her breasts and pushed the cotton spandex back over her shoulders. Out of the way.
Only her arms were bound, and the shirt couldn’t drop to the floor behind her.
He gave an impatient growl, and gripped the neck of the shirt with both hands and tore it from her, the tough cotton parting with slow, deep tearing sounds. When she was finally naked from the waist up, he wrapped his hands around her waist again and let his fingers slide up along her back. The thumbs caressed her flesh. His expression was like that of a man who had gone too long without a favoured delicacy—or perhaps that of a man who had been stunned by good luck and was savouring it while it lasted.
Finally, finally , his thumbs caressed the underside of her breasts, and she had to close her eyes in reaction to the sharp pleasure spearing her at that simple touch.
She kept her jaw clamped tight against the betraying gasp that tried to escape her. “Just what do you think you’re doing, Cadogan?”
His smile was a ghost of the real thing, almost touching his lips, but not quite. “ You wouldn’t hear the truth even if I spoke it, so why don’t you consider this my payback?”
Chapter Two
“You would descend to rape as punishment?” Delly
“You were stealing from me.” He smiled, and this time it did reach his lips. “And this is not rape. You’ve got good at the lies that come from your mouth, but your body is telling me something else, Delly Alexander.”
“It’s telling you to fuck off.”
“Fucking is certainly part of it,” he agreed, the smile blossoming. He dropped to his knees before her, and Delly sucked in her breathe in reaction. His face was level with her cleft, and that prompted all sorts of images and feelings that left her wilting and breathless.
He took the knife to her pants, one leg at a time, carefully drawing a long line up the middle of each leg with the blade, from hem to waist. He left the last
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