Secrets of Sin (15 page)

“Monsieur,” she pleaded, helpless in her passion.

“But your skin still has that flawless, rich, tawny color.” The palms of his hands now rubbed against her breasts until her nipples were caught between his fingers. Mirroring a scissoring motion, he squeezed them once more, making her shiver yet again.

“I always loved marveling in the contrast in our coloring,” he continued, and Emiline panted a ragged, high-pitched “yes” just before his demanding mouth closed over her lips and kissed her breathless.

Their kiss made her forget all her ladylike demureness. In the state she was in now, her unrelenting lust demanded he take her now. Her arms snaked up and wrapped around his shoulders, diving into his soft mane while her tongue thrust deep to show him that her patience was almost at an end. She drew her thigh up and wrapped her leg around Reinier’s waist, her hips gyrating instinctually.

His little treasures, those pleasure balls, would have never kept her on edge as much as feeling his body, so close to her, vibrating with lust, his hard flesh pressing into her lower belly; yet he held back, drawing the moment out until it became nearly unbearable.

Reinier broke the kiss, his hands capturing her wrists. He brought her arms down to her sides again, pressing them to her thighs. “I do believe it’s time we have our little picnic now.”

She harrumphed her resentment, but only got his hoarse chuckle in reply. Then he was gone, and she almost felt physical pain at his leaving. But she knew he was still near. The thick blanket under her let her feel his motions.

She heard the distinctive clinking of earthenware bowls being opened and the scent of food was even stronger now. Only then did she become aware of her growling stomach. She hadn’t had anything decent to eat today, so why not enjoy the promise of being fed such excellent food?

When the delicious aroma of lemon and the faint nuance of celery ignited in her nose, she knew he was offering her a morsel of lobster salad first. Emiline opened her mouth dutifully and he fed her a small piece of bread he’d dipped into the salad. Palm oil covered her tongue before the lobster, salt, and pepper followed and added their flavors to the taste.

He hadn’t been very careful, though, because a drop of salad still clung to one corner of her lips. Her tongue was still occupied, so she meant to bring one hand up to wipe her mouth clean, but Reinier stayed her arm. His warm, sweet tongue caught the stray drop straightaway, and his unique bouquet was added to the delicacy, creating the rarest specialty she’d ever had. Moaning, Emiline chewed a bit longer before she swallowed.

“Good?”

Smacking her lips, she grinned while giving him a nod. No need to stroke his ego even more by telling him that that was the best lobster salad she’d ever had. She’d much rather stroke—

Reinier paused while feeding her. Emiline supposed it was to dine as well. Then he continued, offering her another morsel, pausing again. Each time he fed her something different, mango or prawns or granadilla purée, and at each offered bite Emiline opened her lips in anticipation.

At some point it seemed he got clumsy on purpose, because he dropped granadilla purée on the tips of her breasts and slowly licked it off. Not that Emiline complained. She relished being used as his personal dining table. He even drew a wet trail with a piece of mango across her body, letting it rest in her belly button only to collect it with his lips, licking the sweet, fruity path he’d made clean.

When he held the next morsel to her mouth, she closed her lips with dutiful slowness and chewed with sensual appreciation.

“You do that very well, you know.”

She felt his hand on her hip, caressing her skin. “And what is that, monsieur?”

“Take every bite as if you were savoring something else altogether.” The lazy movements of his hand, from the top of her thigh to her waist, had Emiline almost forget her reply.

“It’s very good.” She worked to make her tone as unaffected as possible, but the words came out in a slight croak.

“I think it’s you who is very good.”

“Well,” Emiline replied, cocking her head and trying to speak in the direction she thought he was. “One should always try one’s best to be good to avoid further punishment, I should think.” She couldn’t help but smile at her own boldness.

“Hear, hear! Speaking of punishments…” She felt the blanket under her move. He lay down at her side, and to her disappointment she realized he was still fully clothed.

He put an arm around her, an endearing, possessive gesture, and brought his lips closer to her ear. Emiline wiggled, rubbing her thighs against each other. How much longer was he going to make her wait?

“Tell me how you feel about what happened yesterday.”

Her good mood died quickly. She didn’t want to think too deeply about what had been happening. It was too mind-boggling, too dangerous. “Must we talk about it? I’d much rather we didn’t.”

“I asked you a direct question, Lily, and I expect my questions to be answered without hesitation—something you’ve forgotten already, or so it seems.”

Emiline started to protest, but Reinier nipped her objection in the bud. “It’s important for me to understand what you thought of the things we did yesterday before—or if—we continue into other things.” His hand grasped hers then and he brought it up, placing a kiss on the heel of it with just a hint of tongue in it. “I’d very much like to continue into other things, Lily.”

Turning her head away from him, the fingers of her other hand played over the blanket, finding a thread she promptly picked at. “I don’t even know where to begin, monsieur.”

She sighed and his lips wandered down her wrist. Reinier centered all his attention on her pulse now and Emiline somehow felt complied to answer. “I enjoyed it, yes. And no.”

“Yes and no?” He’d unexpectedly stopped his ministrations at that. He’d probably lifted his head, her answer having puzzled him.

Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. His finger under her chin raised her head a little for another kiss. That brief, silken brush of his lips against hers made her concede. “I didn’t enjoy it at first. I had never even imagined doing the things we did yesterday before, never imagined I could have ever been comfortable doing them, much less enjoying them…. But I did.”

“You looked so perfect bent over that saddle with your legs wide and your bottom thrust into the air.” Reinier’s voice became dreamy. “Your perfect, warm-colored skin was waiting to be marked.”

“It stung, but then it felt warm, yet it still stung and it tingled and it made me dizzy and…” Thinking of it again now made her almost feel giddy. “And…it was more arousing than anything I’ve ever felt. It was…freeing…somehow.”

Releasing her hand, his fingers caressed her jaw then. “You were wonderful in the tack room, and there are so many more pleasurable things I want to show you.”

“May I ask…what might those entail?”

“Oh, but I find those things are so much more effective…” She felt the heat of his breath against the base of her neck and heard the smile in his voice. “If they come as a surprise.”

“But—” Remembering she wasn’t supposed to contradict, Emiline bit her tongue and fell silent.

Once more, the thick blanket under her moved. By the sound of it, he must have gotten up. She could hear his footsteps leading away from where she was. He was walking to the chaise. The mare’s whinny gave him away. Silence. Then he came back, and Emiline noted his stride had changed. It was more purposeful now.

What had he gotten from the chaise? Emiline licked her lips quickly. The whip?

She was sweet and irresistible in general, but now, as she lay sprawled on the blanket like a buffet waiting to be devoured, she looked magnificent. Reinier couldn’t help the grin of anticipation spreading over his face. In fact, he couldn’t wait to be the one to devour her, but he needed to control his passion, at least for a little bit longer. He had plenty of discipline, just not so much around her. But he would assert his impeccable control over himself now. It was all the sweeter if the yearning got to the point where it made one almost miserable.

Her chest heaved with the quick, shallow breaths she took, emphasizing the sleek curve of her breasts. Brave Lily, so eagerly awaiting her punishment. But whether it was her being punished or he himself, Reinier wasn’t quite sure. He was all too aware of the heat and scent of her body. His lust was nearly driving him out of his mind.

He had to make sure she wouldn’t touch him again quite yet. He was almost to the point where he’d disgrace himself by coming in his breeches. Maybe a cooling bath in the sea before he served her would do the trick.

He noticed that even though she was burning to know what he would do, she didn’t ask. She’d pressed her full lips together and her cute little fists twitched at her side. Reinier swallowed the low groan he felt watching her fighting her anticipation. Yes, part of the reason for what he was about to do was for his protection against her touch, but it was also for the pleasure he got out of playing his game.

“Kneel, Lily.”

The tone in his command was soft, but it was clear—at least he hoped—that he wouldn’t welcome any objection. Surprisingly, she complied without hesitation. She got up, wiggling her backside on her heels out of excited keenness or so it seemed. He helped her back into the shadow of the shelter. She’d sweat enough anyway, so there was no need to expose her to the hot afternoon sun.

“Open your knees.”

Yes.
That one word rumbled through his mind with a primeval growl when she afforded the best view he could ever imagine.

Tightening his grip around the length of rope, he crouched down behind her. He reached in the basket for the sharp knife he’d pilfered from the kitchen along with the other item he’d found by chance there and that he’d perhaps put to good use. He placed the blade by his right calf.

“I am going to take a swim in the sea,” Reinier announced. “You’re too curious to let me do that in private, so I thought I’d keep you from removing your blindfold.”

“How…?” She’d turned her head to the side to speak with him over her shoulder, her voice hoarse, yet uncertainty swung with it as well.

“I’m going to tie you.” He said it matter-of-factly while already anchoring one elbow behind her back and wrapping one end of the rope around her upper arm just above the elbow twice.

She held her back rigid. Reinier paused.

“I won’t hurt you, Lily.” He accompanied his words with nibbling kisses from the back of her neck down to her shoulders, feeling her body become pliant momentarily. Her skin felt so balmy and supple under his fingers.

She let out a soft, capitulating sigh. Only then did Reinier resume his devious, but very pleasurable task.

He stuck two fingers under the rope, captured the longer end of it and pulled it through, then plucked at it until it created a nice loop. He quickly tied several links of crochet stitches until he reached her other elbow. He wrapped the rope around her arm in a loop and secured the loose end.

Looking over her shoulders, he was very pleased with the result. He’d made the knots between her elbows a bit shorter. It didn’t strain her shoulders, but still Lily had no choice but to thrust those wonderful, ample globes of her breasts out.

He inhaled, drinking in the sweet, musky spice of her arousal. But he mustn’t forget he wasn’t finished yet; he still needed to secure her hands.

Using the knife to cut the remaining rope off, he folded the rope in half, wrapped it around her wrists, palms together, twice, bent the loose ends across each other, passed one between the hands and the other between the lower arms, and finally secured the loose ends with a plain knot.

“Perfect. I can bathe in the sea now without having to fear someone’s spying on me.”

She chortled. “Careful. We don’t want your pale skin to get sunburned.”

Was she teasing him? Because if she was, he could punish her some more for it, but he was too disciplined to rub his hands with glee.

Reinier stood and started to shed his clothes quickly, then bent to retrieve the bundle from the bottom of their picnic basket. Timing was of the utmost importance now. Knife and bundle safely by his calf again, he knelt in front of her this time. One hand captured her chin, holding her neck arched, while the other went directly to her core. She was heavenly moist already. He loved that sensuality about her. She’d always become wet so easily.

“Audacious Lily. And here I thought you wanted to always be good, not to be punished any more than was necessary.” Chuckling menacingly, his fingers found her folds and parted them. He delighted in her high-pitched moan when he touched her and that even louder gasp as he thrust two fingers deep into her. She pushed back, riding his hand and sobbing for more.

Her head grew heavy in his hand; but he wouldn’t let it fall back, not now. He needed to see her every reaction as he stroked and teased her. Her juices were already trickling onto his hand and creaming his palm. She sighed with pleasure.

He left her, dragging his drenched fingers farther back to wet the tight opening there.

When one finger entered her taut hole, she caught her breath, her mouth slightly agape. Reinier was slow and very careful now. He wouldn’t want to hurt her in any way and certainly not in that way. He pushed into her a little more, retreated, then thrust forward. Her muscles fluttered around him just before they loosened for him. He stuck his thumb into her wet cunny and pumped into her, his middle finger farther back.

Again her head fell back and her breaths came in shallow gasps. Soon she groaned breathlessly, the sound moving slowly through his bloodstream and licking at his skin. Her hips ground against his hand. Her breasts swayed in time with the seductive movement of her hips. God, she was stunning in her passion. There was nothing more beautiful than Lily’s natural response.

Just when he wasn’t paying attention, she threw her head to the side until she caught his thumb between her lips and sucked at it with unmatched greed.

Reinier felt his cock twitch and saw the drop of anxious anticipation it wept. He had to stop now before he lost the last shred of control over his own body. So he retreated, unwrapped the bundle, and dried his hand in the linen that held the ginger root. Knife in hand, he quickly carved a plug, measuring the length and width of it by his finger.