Rough Surrender (9 page)

“Um.” She frowned again and stopped wriggling. Her heavy breasts seemed the last part of her to stop moving. “I already said I wanted this. I do. Should we continue this discussion with my hands free?”

“Untie you?”

Under his hand the globe of her breast fit just right–full and warm. When he teased the nipple with finger and thumb it stood up a half inch, so he wet his finger and did it again, to both nipples. Faith’s chest moved up and down, a little faster than before as he concentrated on arousing each nipple, over and over, round and round the outside, and at times over the tip. Her lids lowered, halfway down, hiding her eyes.

“No, I’ll not untie you, darling.” He leaned into the angle of her jaw and neck, took a bite of the muscle, then another. “You smell so good. Soap...” Another bite, a lick. “Fresh woman.” He nudged at her chin until her head tilted back, and took a bite on her neck
there
. She moaned.

Yes. The right time to see what else his fingers could elicit. Her nipples didn’t need more touching, yet. He smoothed his hand down and through the little forest of hair above her legs, to her slick cleft, and let the tip of his finger dip inside, an inch.

With his mouth at her ear he said quietly, “If I untie you, you might escape. Not at all, what I want. I’m just taking things slower. Slow as treacle. Any time it gets too much, tell me, I’ll go slower.”

Faith’s mound pressed up into his hand, grinding away at him. He let his finger go in another half inch and swirled it around. “You’ve no hymen in the way. That’s good. Makes things much easier for you. Now, here is where you get the benefit of my year when I tried out studying medicine. Knowledge, they say, is power. You know your clitoris.”

Like a gentle snake exploring a new home, he slipped his finger into the hot tunnel going deeper, deeper, and watched Faith’s lips part then a groan escape her. “This is your vagina, or some call it a cunny, a pussy or a cunt.” He swirled his finger against the tight muscles, pressing in all directions, mesmerized by the effect on Faith–panting, cheeks flushed a brighter pink, eyes closing. So beautiful. Little rhythms of clenching squeezed on his finger. And so tight. The image of his cock going in there made him feel like someone had pumped it full of hot steel–painful, aching, but nice.

He possessed her with more ardent kisses, breathing in as she breathed out. Her arousal left her with no resistance, and she made small
mmm
sounds of pleasure against his lips.

“Some call this a slit, or a cleft. My finger likes being in there, inside you, and you like it too. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

Her neck arched and he pressed then lifted the side of his thumb on her clit.

“
Unh
. Yes.” The word came out strangled. Her fists opened, closed on her ankles. Her heels scuffed into the bedspread. Her toes curled and uncurled. A woman about to come, if he applied his thumb to her clit for a little longer. Too quick. He left his fingers in and lifted the thumb.

“More,” she said in a high-pitched whisper. “Please. Sir.”

“Not yet.”

Chapter 9

Not yet?
Then his finger pulled out also.
No-o-o
. With the delicious pressure gone, Faith groaned and opened her eyes a slit, then more. Already she recognized that feeling where her whole body poised, full to the brim with energy, every part of her waiting for the final stimulus. She ached, so darned much. All that time in the bathroom and now this?

He was looking at her. Always Mr. Meisner watched. Being the object of his fascination added another facet. Tied up, studied...and the sounds he’d provoked from her had seemed like nothing she’d ever made before.

“Please,” she managed to croak out.

“Have patience.” He grabbed two, three pillows then, easily lifting her to create a gap between her arms and her back and buttocks, he pushed the pillows under her, and arranged them. With another under shoulders and neck she found herself with her mound presented toward the ceiling and her breasts thrust upward. Splayed out, arms pinned by the weight of her body on the pillows, she felt on display and trapped. Mr. Meisner flattened his hand on her stomach. If before she’d been bound, now she was thoroughly under his control.

Like a small earthquake, this knowledge set her trembling.

Is this one of those tell-me-if-you-want-to-slow-down, things?
Seemed it was, though she didn’t need to speak. He rested a hand on her knee then, after a while, slipped it beneath her and checked the cords around her wrists and ankles, leaned over, checked the other side. She counted to ten in her head and the trembling went away.

“Good?” he asked, smiling.

Mr. Meisner...smiling?
But, it was true, he’d changed in the short time she’d known him from a gruff, taciturn beast of a man, to this–a man who sometimes smiled. She nodded.

The smile dissolved. “How do you feel?”

Despite everything she still recalled what he’d done. Her body did too. Looking inward, she knew the way his finger had probed up inside her, the length of it invading her private place, and she throbbed with need. The slick wetness cooled her lips down there and even her thighs where skin had touched skin. She flicked her gaze at him, saw the knowing in his face–that she’d been away in that moment remembering. The world rotated in a lurch.

Whatever her place was in the universe, somehow it had slipped, and to the end of time, no matter what she did, Mr. Meisner would own a piece of her.

His hand traveled down and, positioned in the same place and the same way as before, exploded her nerves awake. The storm of pre-orgasm swept her. She bowed up into him. His hand molded to her from clitoris and along her cleft, where one finger now glided within, to the other end where her nether hole awaited...and she quivered at the abrupt possession of her body. “Oh!”

Just one more
anything
.

Eyes closed. The bed shifted like the sea as Mr. Meisner moved in on her.

Wet warmth surrounded her right nipple and sucked it all into a cave of heat. His mouth.
Oh. My.
The pulse of his thumb joined in and she strained, pushing, taking it in, the next suck on nipple, the next press and... She opened her mouth and everything
broke
. A roiling tumult stormed through obliterating all in a wave of white silence. And more, and more, and sound screamed back. Her belly was arched against his flesh, and she was gasping like a landed fish. She’d screamed a throat-burning scream that had rasped her throat.

Slowly, she relaxed, shuddering a few times, but muscles spent. The pillows and mattress accepted her body in their soft embrace.
Heavens above. No. More
. She’d turn to mush.

Except... She blinked open, shut, and he kissed her, sweet and soft. That such a big man could be so tender amazed her.

“Gorgeous.” He trailed a fingertip around the outer curve of her ear. “Ah, Faith. I can’t believe that’s only your second orgasm.”

She swallowed, getting her throat working again then said quietly, not sure why–maybe afraid too much noise would change something, “Neither can I. Is this what I’ve been missing? Did I...” She screwed up her mouth and flexed her hands where they were buried under the pillow. “Did I scream out loud?”

Those eyes searched and gave way to an amused curve of his mouth. “No. It was more a muted scream.”

“My throat hurts.”

“Hmm. I aim to make other places sore in the near future.”

“That sounds...that sounds dirty.”

“Yes. But I’m going to enjoy doing it.”

Her eyes must have gone big. Certainly she’d stopped breathing. If he’d said that in public, she’d have slapped him. Here, now, she just
wanted
whatever it was he planned. “Good,” she whispered then added, even quieter, “I guess,” because Mr. Meisner had done that switch from
nice
to someone who wanted to put her through the wringer. She could see it in his eyes. The wringer of ecstasy, perhaps, but still it was a teensy bit scary.

“How long are you staying in Cairo?”

“What?” The question threw her. He had her tied up on a bed, naked, and he wanted to know how long she was staying here for?

“Uh. Ten days, at least.” She moved her bottom, swaying the ramp of pillows under her. “Perhaps, now is the time for untying me?” Hoping he got the hint, she raised her eyebrows.

“Ten days? That gives us plenty of time then.” Just as he had at the workshop, Mr. Meisner found a strand of her fringe and arranged it across her eyes, then another.

Irritated, Faith tried to move her hand, and couldn’t, so she blew upward and disturbed the hair. “Time for what?”

“Time for what,
sir
.” He wound a lock around his finger and tugged, making her wince. “Time for us to get to know each other. I like what I see so far, perhaps, at the end of the ten days, we will discuss marriage?”

Every thought in her head seemed to jam in on her at once. Bad enough that Henri wanted her to marry Jeremy, who she didn’t want to...let alone, Mr. Meisner, who really, wasn’t much more than a total stranger... Her heart performed a little skip.

“You can’t just announce that sort of thing, sir!” This time the
sir
was an acerbic one and not all respectful. “We barely know anything about each other. Well. Um.” A blush swept hotly across her face.
How silly
. She huffed. “This time I do want to be untied.”

He cocked his head and the mischievous malevolence on his face turned purposeful.

“Oh. You say this, do you, Miss Faith Evard? And I say I’m not done with you yet.”

“What?” she squeaked. “You’re to stop. Right now, sir. Or–”

“Or what? You’ll scream? That could be embarrassing for you.” He slipped his hand back and dipped his finger between her legs, slicking the cream of her juices forward and swirling around and around her clitoris, as if his fingertip were a pen doodling circles on paper. Each feathery touch that glanced off the nub sent out tiny shocks.

“I... I– Stop that, please. You said you’d stop, if I...uh...asked you to.” She squirmed, unsure if she wanted to somehow make that light touch go closer, or to wriggle away.

“I’m not done with you. One minute of your time,” he said calmly, doodling around and now, at times, steering across her clit. “If you still say no, I’ll honor it.”

Feeling a step removed from reality, as if he were gradually drawing a veil over her world, Faith watched him sit up, fish around in the pile of his clothes while still touching her, and emerge with a pocket watch. She licked her lower lip. Already her clitoris swelled, throbbed, maybe in time with his blasted clock. If she didn’t stop him, it wouldn’t mean she had to marry him, would it? No.

“Mr. Meisner. Please stop.” She gave a stifled groan.

“Here. One minute.” Without stopping his circling, he placed the watch on her belly button, nestling it there and then draping the cold watch chain over her skin until the clasp at the end dangled from his hand, swaying, on her nipple. The metal
tap, tap, tapped
and her nipple peaked hard.

She bit her lip and sucked in air, watching the chain in his fingers tap upon her. Past that, up the slope of her stomach, his other hand played among her pubic hair. Heat rose, sifting, curling. She clamped her lips together but the little sounds came out and she strained against the cords. Her hands were twisting under the pillows and, damn him, he knew it.

“Starting,
now
.” Leaving the watch chain laid in a line across her belly, he shifted and knelt between her legs. Mr. Meisner put his hand under her bottom, with the little finger atop her nether hole–somewhere it surely shouldn’t be?

Oh
.
What was that
? Yet another new and entirely queer sensation.
Did that little finger press in a fraction?
Some muscle down there, tensed, relaxed.

No. He mustn’t
.

Frowning, she stared incredulously at the man. Mr. Meisner met her gaze then settled his other hand with the
V
of two fingers framing her clitoris, and popped his thumb into her vagina. She jumped, clamping her jaw on the gasp that almost escaped.

“Twenty seconds, my dear. Do speak up.” With his eyes focused on hers, he leisurely lowered his mouth and put his lips over the top of her oversensitized nub.

Mmm
. She tensed, her thighs quivering in, tight on his shoulders.

His tongue swirled.

As one, her eyes snapped shut, her neck arched and her head flopped back onto the mattress. She groaned.
His mouth is on me, in my most intimate place
. Unimaginable, glorious and so naughty, all at once. She hadn’t known what a clitoris was until this day, and now she wondered if the poor thing could ever expire from overuse.

The tendrils of arousal were seeking out her sexual parts and filling them tight, pumping into her, expanding. She was breathing like an over-stoked steam engine, like a dog in the hot sun, like a woman who needed, oh so badly, to orgasm.

He lifted his mouth off her. “I’ll take that as a, yes, I want you to keep doing that.”

She peeked through eyelashes, seeing her breasts heave up and down and the watch chain slither off to the side.

He angled up an eyebrow. “Well?”