“Better yet, let’s have dessert delivered to your room,” Dex said. He had no appetite for anything other than Ana.
“Come.” He threw his serviette down on the table and rose, holding out his hand. “It’s time.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
When the storm of her anger had passed, she realized she was curled within the length of Qavox’s forearm. It was hard, and warm, like the slate hearth under a winter’s fire. She could feel the coiled strength of it beneath her own soft flesh. She lay still, reveling in this new sensation of being utterly helpless, yet totally protected from the outside world.
“Don’t think anymore, Princess,” he whispered, the reverberations echoing and reechoing through her body. “Plenty of time for that tomorrow...”
—The Dragon and the Blue Starby Analise Crewe
Dex led Ana into her bedchamber and extinguished the candles the servants had lit on the bedside tables.
“Here are the rules. Tonight is about you discovering the pleasure your body is capable of. I’ll do nothing you don’t explicitly consent to. If I give you an order that you don’t wish to comply with, simply refuse. I will honor your wishes. Though I believe you’ll find you want to obey. You may not touch me unless given express permission.”
“I can’t touch you?”
“Not yet. Another rule: we never spend the night together.” He couldn’t risk it. When he had nightmares about the war, he thrashed about, sometimes even waking in a cold sweat, his fists bruised from punching the headboard. He never wanted to hurt her.
“So many rules.”
“It’s the way it must be. Now stand there, by the fire, and let me look at you.”
She walked to the fireplace and stared at him defiantly. “Is this precisely the right spot?”
“Stand with your hands at your side and your feet slightly apart.”
She was a vision of sensuality. The wine had given her cheeks a healthy glow. Her freckles stood out like the kiss of bee pollen on a rose. The gown rippled like sea foam over her body. He sipped from a tumbler of brandy as he viewed her from every angle, knowing that the heat of his gaze would increase her anticipation.
He walked toward her, stopping an arm’s length away. He caught the end of the silk sash tied about her waist between his thumb and forefinger, stroking the soft silk. Her gaze dropped, watching the movement, her mouth unconsciously parting.
“Now I’m going to untie your sash and use it to secure your wrists to remind you that you can’t touch me. I won’t bind you too tightly. You’ll be able to slip free should you so choose. But I don’t think you will. There’s a freedom that comes with surrendering control. If you’re good, and you allow me to tie you, and you don’t attempt to touch me, I’ll reward you.”
When her wrists were tied behind her back, he left one of his hands on the silk bow, taking a lingering satisfaction in the way the position thrust her breasts forward.
Her breathing was shallow and erratic, her pupils dilated. She was under his spell.
“God, you’re beautiful, Ana,” he whispered in her ear. He tugged on the silk tie and her wrists lifted farther. “I’m going to devour you. I’m going to make you scream my name. You’re going to lose yourself and demand to touch me and then I’ll have to take you over my knee and spank you for such naughty behavior.”
“S-spank me?” she said breathily.
He ran his free hand over the contours of her lush bottom. “Yes. You need discipline in the worst way.” He showed her what he meant by slapping one bum cheek lightly.
“Oh,” she cried softly.
Keeping hold of her wrist tie, he cupped her bottom, bringing her flush against his erection. She glanced down at where their bodies met, wriggling softly against him, her thighs parting.
“Do you feel that? That’s what you’ve done to me. I was hard all through dinner watching you eat, watching you drink that wine. I was thinking about ravishing you. I wanted to tousle that careful coiffure.” He removed the silk bandeau holding up her hair and waves of red gold tumbled over her shoulders.
“I imagined ripping your gown.” He caught the silk in both hands and ripped it easily, exposing her small, perfect breasts. “Most of all I wanted to taste you.”
He lowered his head and sucked on each of her nipples in turn, flicking them with his tongue until they were hard peaks and she was panting, her head thrown back, knees buckling. In one swift movement he caught her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. Removing her gown, he made short work of her petticoats, stays, and shift, leaving only her white stockings and pale green garters.
He placed her bound wrists over her head. She kept her thighs clenched tightly.
“Open your legs,” he commanded.
The way he ordered her about gave her the frissons. Up and down her spine. Between her shoulder blades. Inside her belly. Between her thighs.