Bound by Bliss (28 page)

Her brows drew tight and then relaxed. He watched as she drew a deep breath in, let a deep breath out. Her mouth settled in decision. “That is enough and I will agree to be blindfolded, but first I want my fun.”

“I can quite assure you that what I have in mind will be quite fun.” For both of them. The further along this road they traveled the more he lost sight of his own pleasure and became lost in hers.

She sat up, drawing her knees under her. “I do believe you, but as I only have this night, I want to be sure that I have the chance to live all of my fantasies, to find the answers to my questions.”

“I will tell you whatever you wish.” Although there would certainly be many more nights ahead for them. He had no intention of letting her go, not now that he had her. Still, he supposed he could indulge her. He doubted that it would be much of a hardship, although he might qualify for sainthood again if she made him wait too long.

“I believe that you would, or at least most of it. I think that you still believe me too innocent for some things. I am not sure that you would have let me look through all the peepholes regardless of what Ruby thought.”

She was right about that. Even he, on occasion, could find himself shocked by the things that people chose to do to each other. “I don’t suppose it would help if I said I wanted you to experience only pleasure.”

“No, then you only make me curious about what else might be going on. What is there besides pleasure? No, you don’t need to answer that, not that I think you were going to anyway. What I was starting to say before is that while I trust you to tell me things, to explain things to me, in my experience there is no better way to learn than to do. So, I want to do.”

He had to admit that he’d often felt the same way. No matter how much one was told, it was not the same as actually doing the thing. “What do you want me to do?”

“It’s really quite simple. I want you to lie down on the bed and not move.”

He almost choked, not because he was adverse to her request, but because she’d duplicated his own thoughts and words. He’d planned to add the blindfold, but he’d been intrigued by having her promise not to move. “I will do my best.”

“Keep in mind that your turn comes next, so I will learn how to act from you.”

His Bliss was a clever one. He had never liked taking the passive role, but as he saw the joy and anticipation in Bliss’s gaze, he found himself willing to try. Spreading himself across the bed, he made himself comfortable and looked up at Bliss, a slow smile making its way across his face. “Do your worst, my dear.”

Her eyes wandered over him and it was her turn to smile.

Chapter Nineteen

Now what did she do? Bliss stared down at Stephan’s naked body and tried to decide where to begin and how to start. She refused to ask him any more questions. Her mind was flowing with ideas, but it was hard to choose just one. He was just so good to look at that she didn’t want to do anything else.

Ah, and why should she?

Reaching up, she grabbed a pillow and slipped it under her knees. And then she sat. She just sat and looked and examined and enjoyed. A brief debate flared in her mind as to where to begin, top or bottom? She did love his face, but she was much nearer to his feet and she’d never really taken the time to enjoy them. The feet then, and then she could move up his body. Or no, she’d skip around a bit so that she ended in the middle. That was the way to do it. The middle, or at least the lower middle, was definitely the place to finish. Her gaze landed on the exact ending spot for just a moment. Yes, that was definitely the place to finish. If she started there or reached it in the middle, that would also be the ending if she was coming to understand how these things worked.

It was a nice place to linger, however. So very interesting. She did wish she understood more about how the thing worked. Although, for all practical purposes, she supposed she was starting to know all the important and necessary things.

“Are you going to do anything?” Stephan asked, lifting his head from the pillows to look back at her.

“I am doing it. I am looking. Now let me tell you one more time, be quiet. I want to examine your feet.”

She could feel the words that rose to his lips, see his Adam’s apple bob, but he held it back and let his head rest back upon the pillows.

Toes. They were about the same as hers, although much larger and slightly hairier. Not truly hairy, but there were a few golden strands rising from the joint of the big toes. Did she have any hair there? She had to admit she wasn’t sure. Resisting the urge to check, she moved her perusal further. His feet were also large, really quite, quite large. She’d never noticed it in his boots or shoes.

Her gaze ran quickly up and then back down. Yes, he was big, but his feet were definitely quite large even in proportion to the rest of him. They were somewhat calloused upon the bottoms, but not very. The backs of his heels were somewhat rough. He must wear his boots often.

She placed a kiss on the top of one toe. It wiggled and she jerked back. “Be still.”

“Why did you kiss my toe?”

“I am marking off my territory.”

“Are you going to kiss everything you look at?”

She sighed. “Only if you’re good. Now, be quiet. I need to examine your ankles.”

“My ankles?”

She shot him a glare and made a show of considering the bones of his ankles. There wasn’t truly a lot to think about. They remained just ankles, very nice ankles, but still ankles. Pursing her lips she leaned forward as if to kiss him, but instead gave him a gentle nip, right on the inner side just above the knob of bone.

He jumped, but said nothing.

Calves. She had to admit she was rather fond of his calves. Long and firm, lightly sprinkled with hair. They made her want to stroke and touch. What would it feel like to rub her nipples across the bristling hairs? Her breasts swelled at the thought, the peaks eager to explore. It was wonderful to finally have her long-awaited answer about hair. Yes, he had it, and yes, she liked it. She liked it very much. She leaned forward, letting her nipples rest just above his calves.

Was she really thinking about rubbing her breast upon Stephan’s lower legs? And was she truly delighting at the thought?

A grin played about her lips. She was.

And why not? Given their loose definition of “kissing” surely a breast could kiss as well as lips. And she did need to move if she was going to continue this examination.

With a slow sensuous movement, she slid up his body, letting her breasts dangle so that the nipples just brushed along his calves. The abrasion of the small hairs upon her tender flesh was all that she had hoped and more. Her thighs clenched as the small jolts of lightning coursed through her. Such a small movement and so much sensation.

Rolling her shoulders, she played one breast and then the other.

And—and—well, he definitely liked that. The position had placed her gaze right where she had been determined it would not fall until the end, but it was very clear he was more than fond of her actions. How much more pleased would he be if she moved on to his thighs?

It was time to find out.

Lifting herself slightly, she focused herself first on his knees and then his thighs. Well, knees were knees. As with his ankles they were quite nice, but…

“Don’t skip over them so fast,” he said, keeping his gaze determinedly up.

“What?”

“Knees. They are more fun than you think. At least, the backs of them. It is one of the more tender spots on the body—other than the obvious ones. Feel your own.”

That last was a bit too much of a command. She was the one in charge at this moment, and yet still she found herself complying.

She stared down at Stephan’s legs while slowly tracing a finger on the tender underside of one of her own knees. She did see what he meant. She very definitely felt what he meant. Rolling to her side a bit she peered at the bottom of his leg. “Please raise your leg so I can see.”

He lifted.

It didn’t look different than any other flesh. In fact, it looked exactly like the back of a knee. Could it really be as sensitive as it seemed? Well, she was all for exploration.

Letting her tongue slip from between her lips, she leaned over and delicately traced the seam. The muscles in his thigh tightened, and that part of the body she was not looking at yet quivered. She did it again, enjoying the taste of his salt, his musk. With each slide of her tongue she could feel his reaction—and that brought a reciprocal reaction in her own body.

“Thank you,” she whispered, as her tongue continued to play, tasting, licking, laving.

“For what?” His voice was almost a growl.

This knee play was definitely something he liked. “For not letting me miss knees. I must confess that I would have quite overlooked them on my own.” Reaching over, she ran a finger along the underside of the knee she was not licking. A definite jerk of his whole body took him.

“I think you would have figured it out when I have my turn. I can promise that I will not overlook them.”

She certainly hoped not. Her tongue darted out one more time. The knot in her belly began to coil as his body surged and rubbed against her. She pulled back. This was supposed to be about looking, not touching. Touching could come later.

She made a determined promise that she would not touch his thighs except for that final kiss before she moved on.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she reached into herself. She could do this. How hard could it be not to touch? She’d known him for years without touching him beyond the barest brushing of fingertips in greeting or during a country dance.

She opened her eyes. His thighs also had hair, although it was thinner in spots. Did his breeches rub it off? Based on the pattern she rather thought they might. Very nicely muscled. So hard-looking she wasn’t sure that her fingers would make an indent if she squeezed, not that she was going to squeeze—at least not yet. “Would you wiggle your feet?”

“What?”

“I want to see the muscles move. I like it when your muscles move.”

He obliged and his toes moved. Hmmm, very nice.
Very
nice. It would be wonderful to rub her breast against them, or other more sensitive areas of her body. She remembered how the fabric of her breeches had felt as his fingers pressed it tight against her as he thrust them between her legs. A soft moan escaped her lips and he responded, his body twitching, lifting and moving closer to her.

But, she wasn’t going to touch. No, she wasn’t. Her fingers itched for the feel of his skin, but she curled them into fists at her side and let out a long sigh. His body lifted again as her breath hit him. Unable to resist, she pursed her lips and blew, letting the air trail up his legs and along his inner thighs.

Her eyes widened. It hadn’t seemed possible that he could grow any bigger, but clearly she’d been wrong. A single drop of fluid formed on the tip of his cock as it strained up, apparently of its own accord, and she had to fight the desire to examine it more closely. Hands were next. She was not going right to his sex. That was for the end. Only…No, she would save her treat for last, even if waiting was not something she was good at. She’d always been happy to start the meal with a sweet if nobody was looking.

And she wasn’t done with his thighs yet. “Spread your legs a little.”

“God, you are killing me, Bliss,” he murmured, his words coming from between tight lips.

“Good.” She said the word very quietly, but knew that he heard.

“I will have my turn, remember.”

Yes, she had better keep that in mind. She was quite certain that no matter how she tortured him, he would have his revenge.

She peered closely at the very tops of his legs, remembering how sensitive she was there. The skin was finer and her mouth watered to taste the pale thin skin at the apex of his legs, right below his sack. No, don’t look there. That was for later. She hadn’t really touched his balls earlier. Surely it couldn’t hurt to just caress them slightly, to just learn their feel?

No. No. No.

Do not give in to impulse.

Hands. It was definitely time for hands. Hands were not sexy, hands were not…Only they were. Long, tanned, tapered fingers. Fingers that had brought her such pleasure. Fingers that she could not look at without thinking of how they had moved over her body. Hands that she could visualize only too well as they skimmed, stopping to fondle her peaked breasts, his darkened skin against her light. She knew the feel of those calluses, knew…

Hands. They were only hands. Long-fingered, flexible hands.

Blast. Wrists. She would examine his wrist, the beginning of curling blond hairs glinting against the tanned skin. She could imagine putting her lips to them, tasting the warm flesh, feeling the tender skin of the underside, comparing it to…

“Dammit, woman. Are you ever going to move on with this?” Now that truly was a growl.

“I am moving on with it.” And if he understood the full effect her examination of his body was having on her, he’d understand just how true that was.

“Not fast enough.”

“Be patient. It’s my turn.”

“Don’t tell me to be patient. I’ve given you more control than I’ve given any woman since my first and I am not even sure about her. You’ve teased and teased and now you are doing nothing but staring at my arm. If you’re going to stare surely you could choose something more exciting than my arm.”

“I am saving those parts for last.” Not that she needed to explain herself. “I am just wondering what your wrist tastes like, imagining bringing it to my lips, running my tongue along the veins, feeling the beat of your pulse, watching your fingers curl and uncurl, knowing that you want to touch me, but that you are restraining yourself. My lips are dry with the thought, desperate to run along you, to sample you. I am driving myself half-crazy with thought. It’s your wrist and I am making myself so hot and bothered that I can barely stand it. And we won’t talk about my thoughts when I was looking at your hand, at your fingers, when I was remembering all the things they had done, dreaming of all the things they could do, picturing them pinching my nipples tight until I ached so badly I wanted to explode and never recover. Even your leg hairs. Your leg hairs. Do you know that I was wondering what it would be like to swing over your leg so that it lay between mine and then to rub myself against it, to feel the abrasion of each hair as it moved over—and I don’t even know what it’s called—all I know is I want you pressing there again, that I want to feel the way flames lick through my entire body as I rub and press, as my mind fills with images no decent lady would admit to. I am burning for you now, there, deep between my legs. I can hardly bear it. This is my one night, my one chance, and I can barely think, barely stay sane because I want you so badly.”