The Earl's Mistress (34 page)

“Disobedient, then.” He rolled onto his knees, his back to the headboard, sending the ivories rolling off the adjacent pillow. He watched her cut a dark look at them.

“You can guess, I daresay, what those are for?”

She paled a little. “One of them, perhaps,” she said, the words coming out thick.

“The other one—the smaller one—that is to coax your little rosebud, my love,” he murmured. “Isabella, do you trust me?”

She nodded. “But w-what does it do?” she whispered. “Or may I not ask questions?”

“It snugs things up a little, my love,” he said. “It creates just a little extra pressure in a very special way. Will you let me use it?”

“I . . . I am not sure,” she whispered.

“Ah, the lady reserves judgment,” he murmured on a low chuckle. “Very wise. Now, your wrists, my love, if you please?”

Still up on his knees, he took the little rope, tied one end tight around her left wrist, then looped it gently over her right in a sort of slipknot. Her eyes never left their hands. He could feel the heat of her gaze and the unasked question on her lips.

She was curious. Eager. And yet still a little uncertain of her own needs.

“Isabella?” he asked.

“Y-yes?”

“What are you thinking?” he said. “Talk to me.”

Her gaze came up to his, uncertain yet hungry. “I’m thinking,” she said, “that there must be something wrong with me.”

He shook his head. “You are the most not-wrong woman I’ve ever met,” he said honestly. “You are the most perfect, inside and out.”

“But you . . . you are so demanding,” she said, “and you make me so angry. And then you tell me what to do . . . and like some little lamb, I just . . .
do it.
And I want it. I want
this
.”

He shook his head and looped another knot. “Oh, if you were really doing what I want, love, you’d be on your knees with my cock in your mouth every day,” he said softly, refusing to hold her gaze. “Not running a bookshop. Not scrabbling to make a living. You’d be mine to command, in every way. Mine to hold and to care for. But you’re not. And so I merely console myself with these few rare moments of bending you to my will.”

To this, she said nothing—but he could feel her gaze burning into him as he tied. When he was done, he gave it a little tug, and she jerked instinctively against it.

“Is it overly painful?” he rasped, running his finger underneath the loop.

“N-not yet,” she said.

He flicked his gaze up and caught her wide, lovely eyes. “Do you wish it to be?” he asked, his voice dropping suggestively. “I’ll give you whatever you need, love. I need only to know.”

Swiftly, she shook her head.

“Good, then.” He slid a hand beneath her elbow. “All the way up on your knees, my love,” he gently ordered, “and put those wicked little hands behind your head.”

She hesitated, so he hitched her up himself and smacked her buttocks with the flat of his hand. “Ow!” she said, rolling fully onto her knees and lifting her arms high.

“The answer here, my love, is
Yes, right away, Tony
—unless you’re being disobedient? Are you, Isabella? Do you need a little something to help you be good?”

Her eyes shied to the little crop, then she gave a short, swift shake of her head.

On a warm laugh, he kissed her deeply as he pulled the silver chain down to hook it beneath the knot that bound her wrists.

“There,” he whispered when her hands were fixed just behind her head. “Oh, Isabella. Those breasts, lifted so high. So perfect and so pretty, with nipples that make my mouth water. I still think the amethysts would adorn them to perfection.”

“And I think,” she said darkly, “that’s a fantasy destined to die unfulfilled.”

He grinned. “Ah, well,” he said. “I can live with that.”

But her eyes had fallen to the burgeoning weight of his erection. She gave a tentative tug on the hook. “What are you doing?”

“Savoring, my dear.” He lifted his hand and barely grazed one nipple, watching, mesmerized, as it hardened again. For a lover so untutored, she was incredibly responsive. He bent his head and sucked her right nipple into the heat of his mouth.

As he’d expected, Isabella drew taut, urging herself into the caress. As he suckled her, teasing at the sweet, hard peak with his tongue, he weighed her left breast in his hand, lightly thumbing its nipple. She made a soft, breathy sound that was not quite a moan, and not quite a plea.

“What do you need, love?” he asked.

“I don’t . . . don’t know,” she managed.

He let his hand drift down between them, making her jump. Returning his mouth to her breast, he slowly let his palm slide down the sweet swell of her belly, reveling in the reflexive shiver of her skin.

“Is it this?” he murmured, easing one finger into her already damp curls.

“
Umm,
” she said.

“Open for me, love,” he commanded. “Widen your knees. The chain will give with your weight.”

For an instant, she hesitated. He moved away from her then and picked up the little crop. “Isabella, I need you to do what I ask, when I ask, or say
stop,
” he said, keeping his voice low and gentle. “Do you understand? You need to surrender control to me. Can you?”

She shut her eyes tight. “I’m not sure.”

She wanted something. He let his gaze drift down her, trying to puzzle out what. Her nipples were pebbled hard, and he knew she was already dripping. He drew the crop through his fingers, letting the end flick audibly.

“I think you want this again, my love,” he said, repeating the motion. “Do you? Do you need me to bend you a little to my will?”

Her nipples hardened further, if such a thing were possible, but she turned her head away. He took the little crop and gave her a good stinging snap across her ivory cheeks, making them wobble.

She jerked reflexively, then “
Ohhh,
” she said.

The exhalation was almost a moan. He could practically see the lust thrumming through her. He crawled nearer and held her to him, burying his face against her neck as his cock twitched against her soft thatch.

“What’s wrong with me, Tony?” she whispered.

“Nothing,” he said again. “You’re special, Isabella. Strong. Let me be strong tonight, love. Let me. I have you tied to the bed, after all. You’re my prisoner. You might as well surrender yourself.”

“But I can say
stop,
” she whispered.

He chuckled. “But will I, Isabella?” he murmured. “Will I let you go? Are you sure? Or are you my sexual slave, destined to fulfill my wickedest desires?”

“I . . . I can say
stop,
” she repeated.

“Yes, but
are
you saying that?” He drew a fingertip down her cheek, between her breasts, and down her belly. “Are you unhappy, love? Shall I release you and leave?” So saying, he eased the finger back into her feminine folds again.

“No.” The word came swift and certain. “Don’t leave.
Don’t
.”

“Then tell me what you need,” he demanded. “Have you been bad?”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded.

Though the angle was awkward, he switched her buttocks again. She jerked against him and gave a soft moan.

“How bad have you been, Isabella?” he asked, just grazing her clitoris. “Have you, perhaps, missed having me in your bed these past few days?”

She nodded, her hair falling over one shoulder.

“Say it,” he ordered, sliding one finger deeper into her curls.

“I have missed it,” she whispered. “Terribly. Tony, you . . . you were cruel to stay away each night.”

“Did you touch yourself, Isabella?” he asked. “There’s no shame in it. Trust me, I know.”

She shook her head.

“Liar.” He took the crop and lashed her again. Her hips jerked into his. “Tell the truth.”

“I . . . I need you inside me,” she said breathlessly. “
Now
.”

“Hmm,” he said. “I think not, my love.”

“Please,” she said. “Just . . . may we?
Please
?”

“Not yet, love. Be patient.”

He moved away and sat back on the edge of the bed to extract the thirty-foot length of black silk from his chest.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Binding you,” he said. “I want to see you, Isabella, trussed up in this black silk strapping. I will not hurt you, love, I promise—unless you ask me to.”

“D-do I have a choice?” she asked, her eyes going to the narrow band of silk as he roped it around his hand.

“Only two,” he said, unsmiling. “Give yourself over to me, Isabella, for my pleasure—and, I promise, yours. Or say
stop
.”

When he had unfurled half the narrow length, he wrapped it around her waist, cinched it tight, then knotted it above her hip bone. Then he drew it between her breasts, round her neck, and back down again. Two tight circles beneath her breasts, and they were thrust up high. Gently he bound her elbows nearly together at the back of her head, then finished by passing it between her hips, once around each thigh, and knotting it on the other side.

When he was finished, she was an erotic vision with her wrists behind her head, her inky black hair spilling down her back, and the long, black strap thoroughly cinching her. Isabella’s nipples were hard, her thighs pulled just a little apart by the tug of the knots. The black silk cut into the plumpness of her flesh so erotically that he felt blood surge into his groin again.

“Good Lord, Isabella, but you are beautiful when bound,” he whispered. “How does it feel?”

“Strange,” she said.

“Do you wish me to untie it?” he asked, praying she would not say yes.

“No,” she whispered.

“Then how does it feel—exactly?”

“Wicked,” she said breathlessly. “Tight and wicked and . . . secure.”

Secure
. Yes, he thought he understood.

He made love to her with his mouth then, fisting his hand in her hair and kissing her deep. He tugged her head gently back and let his teeth rake down her neck. He drew the tip of his tongue underneath the edge of her black silk bindings and drew it down. All the way down to her breast. After that, he suckled each in turn, lightly nipping at each sweet peak until she gave a soft, thready cry.

He touched her intimately and was rewarded with a moan. Good God, his cock felt ready to explode again. For an instant, he debated simply thrusting up inside her and being done with it, but pride would not let him. He hadn’t earned his reputation for discipline by surrendering to temptation.

He slid a finger inside her and was rewarded with a tightening throb. “Please,” she begged. “Please. Let me loose, Tony. I need your—”

“No,” he demanded gruffly. “Isabella, you are mine. You are mine to fuck tonight—when and how I please—unless you say
stop
. We may renegotiate our terms another night. But not tonight. Tonight it’s either
stop
, or you are mine, for my pleasure. Which will you have, my love?”

“I am yours,” she said hoarsely. “I am yours. Just . . .
please
.”

He took the larger ivory, pushed her legs wide, and slicked it through her folds.

“
Oh, God . . . ,
” she whispered, shivering.

“Are you frightened?” he asked, worried. “This is just a lover’s toy, Isabella, scarcely half the size of my cock. Just a plaything.”

She managed to give her head a little shake. “No.” She licked her lips. “I am . . .
yours
.”

“Brave girl.” Gently, he slipped it in an inch, causing her to twitch a little at the invasion. “Relax, my love, and let me pleasure you,” he said. “Yes, like that.”

Another inch, and then another, and after a time, she shut her eyes, let her head fall back, and rode down, almost to his hand. “
Aaahh,
” she breathed, taking the length of it.

“So greedy,” he murmured, easing it back and forth. “Oh, Isabella. I worship you.”

Still lightly holding the ivory in place, he shifted his weight low onto his elbow and stretched out. Dipping his head, he drew his tongue lightly through her soft folds. Isabella made the sound again—a slow exhalation of pleasure.

Again, he teased lightly, drawing his tongue deeper this time, until he felt her quivering bud. She would not last long, he thought, for she’d not yet learned discipline. Beneath the black silk strapping, her nipples were full and hard, her head already tipped back as if release edged near.

He drew the ivory shaft out a little, and Isabella gave a whimpering sound of disappointment. This time, he let his tongue play over her jewel of a clit and kept it there, slicking the shaft up again and pressing it hard against the front wall of her sheath, in that sweet and perfect spot that almost always maddened a woman.

It maddened her. Isabella began to shake down to her bones, drawing down hard on the silk rope, her whole body straining against it. And then he slicked the rod back and forth again and felt her juices burst forth. She bowed backward, her mouth open on a soft, almost silent cry of release.

He wanted to take her then and there, still bound and tied. He held fast as long as he could, and when her trembling eased, he let the ivory go, rolling up onto his knees, his forehead damp with sweat, his cock already in hand. He lashed an arm about her waist and was already pulling Isabella, still shaking, onto his shaft when some semblance of control returned.

“Good Lord, woman.” He let his head fall forward to touch hers, banding her tight to him as he raised his other hand to unhook the chain.

Isabella collapsed against him, almost sobbing. He buried his face against her neck and shoved his fingers into her hair, simply holding her. “Oh, love, you are so beautiful,” he murmured.

Her breath was slowly returning to normal. “Oh, God,” she whispered. “What did you do with . . . oh, I cannot bring myself to ask . . .”

He kissed her then, deep and sweet, threading his fingers through her hair. “Are you all right, love?” he murmured, against her cheek. “Are you exhausted?”

“No . . .
eviscerated,
” she said. “But that is not
stop,
Tony.”