Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
She couldn’t. She knew what she would see. The need. The wanton hunger. The desperation only Sevastyan could produce in her. But he was relentless. Merciless. That was why she was so obsessed with and addicted to him. He could make her feel this way when no one else could.
He bit down again on her nipple but this time his teeth remained, and he tugged, stretching, his fingers on the rope, tugging at the same time, dragging those knots up tighter between her cheeks so they rubbed deliciously and dangerously. Sparks erupted. Flames burst through her. She lifted her lashes and forced herself to look in the mirrors that surrounded her.
Moans escaped. She looked so sexy. So completely erotic. So not Flambé. The artwork was beautiful, framing her breasts with the colors of the ropes. She could see marks from his mouth and teeth and that just added to the eroticism of the image. He towered over her with his wide shoulders and muscular body, looking completely merciless while she looked . . . a willing captive. Desperately adoring. More than willing to do anything for him, and she was. She would.
She’d never come close to wanting a man the way she wanted him. She hadn’t known her body could crave the things she wanted from him. She hadn’t known this kind of need existed on any level.
Sevastyan curled his palm gently around her throat and tipped her chin up using his thumb. She felt the tug of the ropes, but almost softly, against her skin—like his voice. “Which pose, plamya?”
She was going to die if he didn’t relieve the terrible coiling need burning through her body. “You,” she whispered. “It was just the way you are.”
“The pose.” His voice never changed. His expression never changed. He wasn’t going to relent.
In desperation she told him. “You did one where you braided her hair and arms down her back and tied both legs onto a pole, stretched out in the splits.” Her breath was ragged. She could barely think. Her head fell forward onto his shoulder and rested there. “You bent her head forward toward her legs and tied her in that position and then hoisted her into the air and anchored her there.”
“And then what?”
She was floating. She couldn’t think anymore, remembering that night. She’d never seen anything like it. That had been the night she knew she was in terrible trouble. She’d wanted him all the other nights, but that night she had been burning up for him. She’d actually gone to Cain’s office, determined to ask him to train her. To let her be his, so she could have what those women had, but thankfully Cain wasn’t there. He’d gone home.
“You did what?”
His voice changed for a moment and a shiver went down her spine. There was a note of rage hidden in that calm and that was worse than anything she could imagine. She’d confessed to him aloud that she’d gone to Cain? What was wrong with her? She couldn’t think clearly. She couldn’t move her arms or legs. She was too exhausted, but her body burned and burned. For him. For Sevastyan. Worse than she ever thought possible.
“Tell me what happened next, Flambé,” he insisted, as if her confession had never taken place.
“You took her and left.”
“I fucked her. Say it. I fucked her. Hard.”
“Yes. From behind her. You didn’t even touch her. You held on to the pole and you fucked her hard from behind. It was very impersonal.”
“Exactly, Flambé. It was very impersonal. There is absolutely nothing impersonal about any of the things I’m going to do to you. Ever. Each of them is going to be very deliberate. And very personal.”
6
SEVASTYAN carried Flambé to the bed and gently laid her right in the middle of it. She was shaking. Exhausted. It was her first time being tied and, although he’d constructed a simple harness and knotted thong, leaving the ropes on for a very short time, to a beginner it must have felt like forever. She had done amazing, far better than he could have hoped for.
Between their craving of Shibari and the insanity of the shockingly raw chemistry between them, his woman needed care desperately. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight into his body for comfort. Her hips moved restlessly against him and he couldn’t help but push back into her. Wanting her. He’d never wanted a woman more, but he needed to make certain she felt safe.
“I’m right here, malen’koye plamya. You’re fine. Just breathe. Put your arms around me and look at me. Open your eyes.”
She shook her head, but her arms slid obediently around his neck. It took time before her lashes lifted and he found himself staring into green eyes. He leaned down and brushed kisses over her temple. There was recognition there. Pure hunger. None of it leopard. All woman. He was extraordinarily pleased that they had this time between them, man and woman, not their animals driving them.