Enemy Lovers (10 page)

In the bedroom, he dropped her on the mattress. She'd made the bed and put up the curtains he'd purchased earlier in the week when they'd gone shopping together. He'd thank her later. “I intend to make love to you but first…” He pulled off her slippers and jeans, and made quick work of the rest of her clothes.

“I like the way you think.” She sprawled on the bed, at ease with her nakedness. “I can't wait to learn what happens next.”

“Hands above your head.” He reached for a drawer and pulled out a silk scarf and folded it expertly. “Close your eyes.” He waited for her to process his order, half of him expecting objections. Instead, her soft smile stole a piece of his patience. Her eyes drifted closed, and he swallowed hard, her easy trust plugging a hole in him he hadn't realized was empty. With competent hands, he placed the scarf over her eyes and tied it securely.

His hemp ropes were under the bed. He pulled out the bag, to find them coiled as he'd left them. The ropes were familiar in his hands. Old friends. Strong. Lasting. He hoped he didn't scare Laura with his suggestion.

He lifted her right wrist and pressed a kiss to the delicate blue veins. “Ever since I met you, I've wanted to see you tied to my bed.”

“And are you going to do it tonight?”

He cocked his head, interpreting her words, her body language. Intrigued. He blew out a breath. “Yes. If you're okay with it.”

“Dallas, I trust you.” Her smile was gentle and echoed her conviction.

“Good girl.” Unable to resist, he pressed his mouth to hers, the contact fleeting and a tease when he craved real body contact. He picked up his rope and started twisting and weaving the hemp around her limbs. His moves were careful, precise, testing and checking his ties and knots to make sure they wouldn't hurt her or cause an injury. Under and over her wrist, a quick loop and knot. He attached the rope to the wooden bed head and tested it with a tug. Right and tight. “Comfy?”

“Yes. A little cold.”

“Can't have that.” He reached over to turn up the heat in the room. “I'm going to tie your legs now.” He paused a beat for objections, but she smiled. The act of belief made his own grin spring to prominence, and the urge to whistle took him by surprise. His cock lengthened, pressing against the fly of his jeans. “You make me want to hurry.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“This part of our relationship is about control and trust.” The impulse to hasten grabbed him by the balls. Instead, he inhaled and let his breath ease out. With methodical moves, he tied her feet, taking the same care with his procedure. Finally, he sat back on his haunches. “How's that feel?”

“I can't move.”

“That's the idea. But you feel comfortable?”

“I feel fine.” She smiled again, the one that tugged at his control.

Dallas puffed out a breath. “I'm going to grab something from the kitchen. Be right back, okay?”

Laura nodded before realizing he wouldn't see her incline of head. “All right.”

Cool air prickled across her skin as she tested the ropes. Although there was give, she was trussed like one of cook's chickens. She was here to stay—until Dallas decided to loosen the knots.

As the minutes ticked by, a sliver of anxiety worked through her. Where was he? He'd said he was going to the kitchen. He wouldn't leave her here. The distant ding of the microwave reassured her. At least he was still in the house. The scuff of a foot against the carpet grabbed her attention and her head turned in the direction of the sound.

“Jeez, sorry.” Dallas's hand on her shoulder helped her shake off the remnants of her worry. “I couldn't find what I was looking for. It took ages.”

“I was starting to wonder if you were going to leave me here.”

“Never. I don't play games like that.” He sounded a little insulted.

“Never? Is that a rule or something?”

“My rule. If I intend to leave you alone, I'll inform you where I'll be, how long you'll be on your own.” His voice still rang with a tinge of affront.

“A momentary lapse on my part. Lying here like a chicken in a truss tends to play with one's mind, especially since I'm blindfolded.” And it was true. Damn if she'd apologize when they were still learning about each other, when she was still learning the rules of this game. No, not a game. That was the wrong word to describe their relationship.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to upset you. Do you want to keep going?”

Laura inhaled, exhaled, willed herself to relax one muscle at a time. “Yes. Please.”

“Okay. I'm going to start touching you now.”

A whisper of sensation ran from her collarbone to her navel and back, so delicate and fast it was difficult to catalogue and identify. “Was that my imagination?”

“You look beautiful with your parted lips and loose hair, your bare breasts outlined by the ropes.”

A dart of movement across the fullness of one breast made her gasp. It was gone almost as it began. She smiled. “You make me feel beautiful.” Heck, he made her feel brave, as if she could do anything—even face her family with the truth. Hard to grasp, but she was sleeping with an O'Grady and enjoying the hell out of the experience.

The next touch was firmer and the smell… No, she wasn't mistaken. “I can smell chocolate.”

“Clever girl.”

“I slept with the knives last night.”

“Huh?”

She could feel his gaze, his confusion. “I'm sharp,” she said.

He chuckled, a low masculine sound that revved her pulse rate. She wriggled her butt a fraction, a slow swivel from side to side. The scent of chocolate intensified and something brushed her lips. Her tongue darted out to taste.

“Stop. Do that again and I'll spank you.”

“How?”

“Simple. I can change the ties in a matter of minutes and pink your delectable butt before you have time to say chocolate twice.”

She wished she could see his expression. The blindfold made her rely on her other senses to read him, the tone of his voice. “That sounds serious.”

“Shush, no more talking.”

The strokes across her torso, her ribs, her breasts were quicker now. More defined. A paint brush. That was what he was using, the bristles of a soft brush. Plus chocolate—the scent of cocoa was rich and almost as seductive as Dallas.

The quick strokes moved down her body, ran over her inner thighs and her hips then back up to her breasts until every part of her tingled with awareness and need. The sensations surfed her body to coalesce at her pussy. She could feel herself becoming damp with desire. One thing was sure—she was no longer cold.

“Can I take a photo of you?”

“For your eyes only?”

“Yeah, and you get to take one of me.”

“Sounds fair.” She liked the way he'd guessed her one objection and given her a way to counter her fears.

“Give me a sultry look.”

She did her best sultry and heard the faint click when he took a photo with his phone.

“Now the fun part,” he whispered next to her ear, and he kissed her—a lingering kiss with plenty of tongue. The taste of chocolate burst over her, plus the faint taste of whiskey. Irish, no doubt.

Taking his time, he licked patterns down her neck, giving her a hint of teeth at uneven intervals, keeping her off-balance. Her pulse rate, which had slowed until it felt as if she had syrup in her veins, resumed a choppier pace. He skimmed his lips over the curve of her breast, and she strained upward, fighting her ties, attempting to force her nipple into the heat of his mouth. She craved hard suction, but she didn't receive the much desired attention.

“You look pretty with your hair mussed,” he whispered next to her ear.

The mattress moved when he shifted, and a frisson of awareness shot straight like an arrow striking a bull's eye. He was watching her. She could feel his gaze stroking her face, her arms and legs. With her parted legs, he was probably studying her pussy. A burst of heat dive bombed her, striking her sex and radiating outward until the colorful shards exploded behind her closed eyes. Her breath caught, every sense on hyper alert.

A drift of sensation whispered over her hip, a shiver of pleasure. With her eyesight shrouded, she tried to imagine his expression, tried to imagine where he'd touch next, tried to imagine when he'd get to the good stuff.

He kissed her on her upper leg, his tongue snaked down the delicate skin of her inner thigh a few seconds later. This was liberating, she realized. Even with her arms and legs tied and her eyes covered, even bound and subject to his whims, being with Dallas freed her from expectations. She could cast her boring day aside, her problems and just be Laura. Let Dallas take responsibility for her pleasure.

“Would you like me to tell you what I'm going to do with you?”

“Dirty talk?” Even her voice sounded relaxed, almost drugged. High on Dallas. It was frightening how fast she'd fallen into this relationship.

The man resided in her mind whenever they were apart.

“Would you enjoy that?” His finger traced her lips while another played with her hair.

“No one has ever… Yes,” she said, struggling for her normal conciseness. Instead, her words emerged soft and breathy.

“Well, then.” A hint of the Irish ran through his words. So sexy.

A finger trailed across her collarbone and darted lower to smooth over and around one breast. The finger came maddeningly close to her nipple and stopped. “I'm going to clean the chocolate off you with my tongue. One slow stroke at a time. Then I intend to tease your breasts. I have some nipple clamps that will look very pretty on you.”

“Will they hurt?”

“Maybe a little. You'll become very aware of your breasts and this awareness will echo in your pussy. After I've touched and teased you, rediscovered your secret pleasure points, I'll lick your wet slit. I'll tongue you but keep away from your clit. Wait for it to turn swollen and needy, watch it stand to attention. I'll tongue fuck you, and if you're very, very good, I'll get you off with a vibrator.”

A fine tremor went through Laura as she imagined the scene, the feelings that would course through her as he put his words into action. She felt as if she was one big nerve of pleasure now and he'd barely started.

“How does that sound?”

“I want everything.”

The bed clothes rustled as he shifted. The next instant a light kiss brushed her lips. “You've been good, and the chocolate is almost gone. I might move to the next step.”

“Yes please.” Before her mind processed the next step, she felt his fingers at her nipples, the sharp suction of his mouth. He tongued her nipple, teasing it to a hard peak. Laura floated, relaxed and happy. She moaned a soft protest when he lifted his head, then she flinched, her breath catching, her muscles going tense at the nip of pain at her nipple.

“Breathe, sweetheart. Take a deep breath for me. Yes, that's it.” His accent seemed stronger, more pronounced and she focused on his voice, following his instructions because his approval made her feel special.

With each breath the pain leveled out, and she discovered he was right. The heat in her nipple worked like a direct line to her clit. She burned. She craved, and she was hungry for more.

He repeated the same moves on her other breast. A second arrow of pain clutched her nipple, but this time she knew to breathe through the burn. In contrast, something cold settled on her chest.

“Perfect.”

A chain, she decided, when he gave a faint tug and a fiery sensation raced from her breasts to her pussy.
Holy Hannah
. She breathed deep, internalizing the sensations. Not quite pain and not pleasure, but something straddling the line between.

“I'm going to take another photo, sweetheart. That's two for you as well.”

“No prob.” Her family would think she was crazy, but she trusted Dallas to honor his word. “I'll have to think up the best way to use my photos.”

Laura heard a faint swish of an opening drawer, the wheeze of a bottle. Her ears strained for a clue. What had he said would come next? Licking. She was sure there was licking about to come. A spike of lust spread through her body and every part of her trembled with impatience for his next move.

Instead there was cold.

Instinct jerked her away, but she couldn't evade the chill of whatever Dallas was stroking along her folds and pushing inside her with the easy stroke of his finger.

The liquid heated to body temperature and she ceased her recoil, her hips arcing upward to ride his finger, to assuage the sensual bite caused by whatever he'd rubbed on her vulva.
Please touch my clit
.

A smart slap to the side of her buttock froze her silent demands.

He chuckled. “My pace. There, I think that's about right.”

The emptiness she felt when he withdrew his finger from her channel almost made her cry out. Slowly, she resettled her butt and regained equilibrium. Her tension seeped into the mattress and anticipation roared across her skin. Permission to accept the unknown.

It was almost as if he knew of her inner battle because the second she relaxed, he started touching her again. Pride. That was the emotion charging through her now. She'd pleased him, and the thought brought a wave of happiness.

“You deserve a treat.”

The approval brought tears to her eyes. She drew a huge breath and waited.

Something nudged her entrance and slipped inside, stretching internal muscles and filling her in a delightful manner. The object started to move, slow at first before the speed increased. Dallas's hands on her hips grounded her, but it was the delicate lick of his tongue around her clit that propelled a throaty groan up her throat.

“
Dallaaas
.” Sensations tore through her, almost brutal in intensity. So perfect. Maybe it was the waiting, the slow build or maybe it was Dallas, but she knew one thing. She wanted more.