Page 122 of Just One Look

Under Her Thumb

It was a different perspective,that was certain. He wouldn’t have said there was much he hadn’t done, but this was definitely on the list. And shewasn’ttaking off his jeans.

What she was doing was kissing him. Straddling him, her hands around his head, holding it still, and licking into him. Kissing him hard, taking his mouth like it was hers, then trailing her lips over to his ear, his neck, and kissing him softly. Teasing. Playing.

He did not want teasing and playing.

He said, “You can hurry this along any time now.”

She sat up. “What? You’re complaining already? You want to be blindfolded, too?”

“No. Come back.”

“Mm.” She was kissing his mouth again, smiling against it, then sending her hands over his shoulders, down his arms. Kissing him there, too, on that ticklish spot on the inside of his arm. Her hands started to play over his chest, then her mouth followed them and closed around a nipple, and he tried to shift and couldn’t. She increased the suction, and his back arched.

How she knew, he had no idea, but she was sitting up again, her hands on his forehead and shoulder, shoving them down. “Hold still,” she said. “You can move your legs. You can’t move anything else. Do you understand?”

It was her surgeon voice, and it was hot.

“Right.” It came out gruff, but that was because he was dying here. “Hurry, then.”

“Mm.” She sat up again, pulled that gauzy purple shirt off, and tossed it to the floor. There was the purple bra. Sheer fabric outlined by ribbons, reaching only halfway up her breasts, and a tiny purple bow at the top of each cup. She looked into his eyes, and then she cupped her breasts, shoved them forward, and asked, “Want to feel these?”

“Yeh,” he said. “Get that kit off.”

“Think you can hold still for me?” She still had her hands around her breasts, and he wanted to bury his face in them. She was still sitting over him, though, she still wasn’t touching him, and he didn’t have any way to make her.

“Yes.” He wanted to shift, but he couldn’t, not with her sitting on him. Not with his arms tied. Why had he agreed to this?

She said, “Then watch this,” after which she swung her leg off him, climbed off the bed, went all the way down to the foot of it, which was much too far away, pulled the zip slowly down on her trousers, and wriggled them down her legs.

The undies matched the bra. Dark purple mesh, with some sort of … diamond-shaped openings down the center, each one fastened with the same tiny kind of purple bow as on her bra. He couldn’t see them that well, though, because there was only so far your eyeballs shifted downward.

He said, “Come closer. Show me.”

“Are you moving your head?” she asked.

He scowled. “No. Come on.”

“Hmm. Youarebeing good. Let’s see if you can still be good while I do this.” She got a knee up on the bed, and then another one, and she was on her hands and knees, walking her way slowly up his body, stopping at his midriff and running her tongue all the way down to his belt buckle, then back up him again. Her hair tickling his skin, her breasts brushing against his thighs. They were still in the bra, though, and that wasn’t good enough.

“Take it off,” he said. “All of it. I need you naked.”

“No,” she said, while she licked her way over his ribs, then ran her tongue down his abs again. “I’m keeping them on. If I got all the way naked, where’s the torture for you? Also, being naked over you makes me nervous, and lingerie makes me feel prettier.” Which was rubbish roleplaying, but made him smile. As much as you could smile when a woman with that many curves was drawing a slow hand down your chest and licking her way over your abs, and you were staring down her incredible cleavage and wishing she’d fall out of that bra.

He said, “If you’re nervous, untie me. I’ll take care of you, no worries. I’ll even use the neckties. I’m better at this than you are.”

She sighed. “Now, see? If you make it a contest … I’m sorry, but I’m a very competitive woman. I’m afraid you’ve just drawn this out even more.” She sat up over him, her fingers playing over his belt buckle, sliding the leather tongue in and out of the belt loops, and said, “Good news, though. You can look at this.” Her hand went to one of those open diamonds on the undies and pulled it apart. And his heart just about stopped.

“It’s open,” he said.

“It is. All the way from the front to the back. I wore my best lingerie just to have dinner with you. I’ve never worn these before. You get them first. Aren’t you glad to be first?”

“Yes,” he said. “But I’ll be gladder once I’ve broken them in.”

She didn’t answer, which frustrated him even more, but she was back to his belt now, pulling the leather tongue slowly through the loops, then freeing it with a hard yank. Unzipping him slowly, one metal tooth at a time. And not going further. Instead, she was doing the thing with her tongue again, and pulling the jeans open with one delicate hand. Licking into his navel, then tracing a lazy path southward, all the way down to the waistband of his briefs, her fingers just under it, stroking over his skin. So close, and not nearly close enough.

Finally, when his toes were curling and his thighs were stiffening, she pulled everything down and off him. Slowly, still, backing her way down the bed, concentrating. Then she was on her hands and knees, her dark hair falling over one blue eye. And starting to crawl again.