“Down there,” Brandon whispered in her ear, and Sandra jumped to find him so close. The man moved like a thief in the dark! His hands ran up and down her arms, and Sandra shuddered at the heat of his body and smooth rasp of his breathing. She couldn’t wait for them to discard the barrier of clothes that separated their skin. He nodded toward the window, and let her go.
The view took her breath away. When she stepped up to the glass, she could see the ocean to one side, the marina sheltering tiny boats that swayed peacefully on the ebb. The rooftops of all the other buildings—aside from the Space Needle—ended well below them. This suite seemed to be the highest point in Seattle. Sandra looked down at the street far below. Tiny people walked in and out of the hotel, attended by bellboys and valets, but they were so far from her, and all so
small
. In fact, the glass was so clear it seemed to Sandra like there was nothing separating her from the outside. Nothing from the safety of this room and… the concrete far below. A queasy feeling built in her throat as she noticed how close her toes were to the edge. In the dark, it felt like just one slip could send her hurtling down.
The room started to spin and she felt like she was falling forward, into the glass. She gasped and braced her arms, but they were slow to respond. She forced her momentum back, away from the edge, away from the sheer drop to the concrete hundreds of feet below her. She stumbled away. The lights from outside twirled like malevolent fireflies around her.
She felt Brandon catch her arm, and turn her toward him. Concern was painted clear on his face. “Are you alright? You started staggering.”
“I feel… dizzy,” she admitted.
“You’re not afraid of heights, are you? Shit, I had no idea—”
“No, I’m fine. It’s just…” Sandra trailed off, feeling the pull of gravity from the street below like iron fillings to a magnet. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the unpleasant sensation. “I just… I just need to sit down.”
Brandon curled one arm below her shoulders, and guided her to the leather chaise. He set her down as carefully as if she were a fragile doll. Being held in his arms made Sandra feel safe, but she was still lightheaded. “Do you need anything?” Brandon asked, kneeling beside her. “A glass of water, some wine…?”
“Yes,” Sandra nodded. “Yes, water would be good.”
“I’ll be right back.” Brandon rushed to the hall. After his footsteps faded, Sandra pushed herself up and took a steadying breath.
What the hell is going on
? It was just like her body to interrupt a perfectly intimate moment. She’d been standing at the window, looking down at the city below, her mind trying to work out the fastest way to get Brandon out of his suit, and then… what? Vertigo?
Really
?
Heights had never troubled her before. But for a genuine moment, the illusion of free fall had scared her. She took another deep breath. Whatever this little spell was, she had to overcome it. She was determined not to let it ruin the night. She and Brandon had checked into the hotel spurred by unbridled passion, and Sandra did not want to disappoint him. But that discomfort by the window was enough to make her body go cold. Maybe she could fake it like she’d done so many times with Henry…
Footsteps roused her from her thoughts. She turned her head to find Brandon standing in the doorway. He’d taken off his jacket, and the cuffs of his pale green shirt were rolled halfway up his forearms. The glow of the city lights cast a shadowy mask across his face, and only his eyes pierced through the darkness. It made him look even more stunning than usual, like a vision of some ancient god come down to earth to take her soul.
He held a wine glass in each hand. “You look better,” he observed, stepping toward her and lowering himself onto the chaise. His leg brushed against hers, and the earthy scent of his cologne filled her lungs. Sandra felt a flush of desire rise within her again.
“Better with you here,” she smiled. It looked like she wouldn’t have to fake it after all.
Brandon nodded at the glasses. “There was only tap water, and I didn’t want to give you that, but I found some white wine…”
“Wine would be great.” Sandra took the glass from him and felt electricity rush up her arm as their fingers touched.
No, I won’t have to fake it at all.
She brought the glass to her lips and took a long, filling sip. The mildly flavored drink warmed her insides.
Brandon set his glass on the floor. “Lie down,” he suggested. “I’m going to take care of you tonight, and I don’t want you nervous, or tense, or reserved. I want you relaxed. Like you were this morning.” He leaned over to place a slow, gentle kiss on her lips. Sandra moaned a little at the taste of him. “Lie down, and I promise I’ll take care of you.”
Sandra did as she was bid. “Brandon…” she started, but he cut her off with a finger to her lips.
“Don’t talk,” he said. “Don’t even think. Only…
feel
. Close your eyes.”
Sandra swallowed, feeling the butterflies return to her stomach. But, she did as he asked. She felt Brandon stand and move around her, then the head of the daybed was being lowered, and found herself reclined horizontally. Brandon’s hot breath on her ear announced his proximity. “Flip over,” he whispered.
“Brandon…” Sandra tried again, but this time, he silenced her by pressing his mouth to hers.
“Don’t,” he said when she emerged from his kiss. “Let your body go. Let yourself
trust
me.”
I do trust you
, she wanted to say. But, she kept her mouth shut and rolled to her front instead. She felt Brandon position himself by her side. He lifted the wineglass from her hand and set it on the floor.
“You have such a beautiful body,” he whispered, grazing his fingertips over her bare shoulders, “and such magnificent hair.” His hands combed through it, from the roots to the tips, raking it to one side. He pressed his face into the silky mass, and a ripple of pleasure ran through her body when he inhaled deeply.
“Your skin was meant to be touched, Sandra.” Brandon’s breath left moist condensation on her exposed neck. “Your lips were meant to be kissed.”
His
lips moved down her spine, landing light, sweet kisses between breaths. “Your body was made to be witnessed. Not hidden.” He pulled the shoulder straps of her dress and bra down her arms. Sandra’s heart started beating faster. “Slip your arms out for me, baby.” Sandra complied, letting him slide the dress down to her hips and unstrap her bra, leaving her back completely bare.
“Wow,” Brandon exhaled, reverently. “Look at you, Sandra. You are so beautiful.” One of his hands moved along the curve of her spine, leaving her skin prickled in its wake. “I want to taste every inch of your sweet skin. It’s so smooth. So delicate. But… so tense.” Suddenly, strong fingers were pressing into her back, kneading away knots in her neck and shoulders. Sandra sighed as Brandon massaged her muscles with an unbelievable dexterity, melting away years of accumulated pressure.
She could hear Brandon’s breathing, slow and heavy, as he worked fingers into her shoulder blades. His thumbs pressed into a sensitive spot, and she gasped, but the hurt went away as soon as Brandon lowered his mouth to kiss her skin.
Inch by inch, his hands crept lower. Sandra’s breathing became more ragged, more... lustful. A throb of heat pulsed between her legs. When Brandon’s hands stopped at her waist, cupping either side of her hips but not going any lower, Sandra nearly cried out from the overwhelming sense of
need
that crashed into her.
She began to turn over, but Brandon held her down. “Not yet.” Sandra noted a new quality to his voice—one that she’d never heard before. His words were clipped, as if he were trying very hard to suppress something. But, at the same time, there was an underlying
eagerness
there, too.
Sandra felt the ache return to her breasts, but didn’t fight against Brandon. She yearned for him to touch her, wanted nothing more than to touch
him
, but he was in control right now. The spell of vertigo was completely forgotten.
“Women are such beautiful, sensual creatures,” Brandon murmured as he slid the bunched-up dress all the way down her legs. “The lies society feeds us about them being not are such bullshit.” He removed the dress from her legs, then slid his hands up and down her calves, her thighs, coming closer and closer to where she needed to feel him… but stopping just short. “You can look, now.”
Sandra turned over, and opened her eyes. Brandon was a shadow in the dark, but his pupils caught the reflection of the city lights outside and stood out like shimmering diamonds.
Sandra came to the startling conclusion that while she was lying there in nothing but a thong, Brandon was still fully dressed.
“Take your shirt off,” she said, pushing herself up. “Or better yet, let me—”
“Stay there. Don’t move. You want me to strip?” His teeth flashed. “As you command.”
He pulled his shirt out from his pants, then used his hands to undo the row of buttons on the front. His moves were slow and sensual. Brandon shifted one stunning shoulder out of the cloth, the faint light in the room illuminated his body just enough for Sandra to see his tight six pack, the lean muscles of his torso. Another spike of need hit her between the legs. He folded the shirt onto itself and set it down, not once taking his eyes from her. His muscles rippled as he moved, and Sandra was consumed by the soul devouring need that throbbed
through her body.
She brought her hands up to squeeze her breasts and sucked in a trembling breath.
“Women have the advantage over men, you see,” Brandon continued, walking slowly to one windowpane to lower the blackout blind. The room became a little darker. “A man can be taken to the edge once…” he trailed off, lowering the next blind with a resounding
swoosh
, “…and boom, it’s done, he’s satisfied for the night. But a woman… well, she can be brought to climax again, and again, and again.” He moved to shut the adjacent window. “Each time builds on the last. Of course, that can only happen in the hands of an experienced lover.” He completed the circuit to cast the entire room into thick blackness.
The throaty growl of that final sentence made Sandra’s skin tingle and hot moisture pool beneath her panties. She could not believe how turned on Brandon could make her feel—with his voice alone.
With a start, she realized she could no longer see him. Or hear him. She tried to widen her eyes, but there was no light available to help. All she could hear was her own deep, raspy breathing and the blood thundering in her ears.
“Brandon?” she asked meekly. “Where are you?”
“Shh.” His hot susurration at her ear shocked her. She had no idea he was so close. “Be quiet now. Turn over again. I’m going to show you what it’s like to be in the hands of a man who knows what he’s doing. You’re going to come for me before I even let you touch me.”
“
Brandon
!” The need in her was overpowering. She wanted nothing more than to feel his hard, hot body against hers.
“Shush, darling. Just trust me. Roll over.”
She did, feeling the roughened leather chafe against her sensitive nipples.
“Good. Now, bring your hands back.” She did, and he kissed each palm, and then laid them on top of each other just above her hips. Sandra felt something stiff cuff her wrists, and when she tried to move them, she found they were bound.
Panic seared through her. She’d never given up control like this before! Her eyes shot open, but everything was black. Scared, confused, she opened her mouth to protest—and found Brandon’s fingers digging into the flesh around her lips.
“Remember what I said about speaking,” he cautioned. “That’s my belt around your wrists.” Without warning, his mouth sealed hers with a slow, wet kiss. He kept her lower lip between his teeth when he retreated, stretching the skin tight before letting go to have it snap into place. “Now,” he said, “are you going to do as I say?”
Sandra nodded, a little whimper escaping her throat. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Good.” He came up behind her. “Spread your legs. Go on your knees. I’m going to give you the gratification you’re after. But, I’m going to tease you, first.”
Sandra bit down her tongue, tense with anticipation. Brandon tugged on her bound hands, jerking her shoulders back. She gasped at the bit of pain that flared through her stretched muscles. Then the coarse fabric of Brandon’s pants brushed against her bare legs as he positioned himself between them. She felt his erection pressing into her quivering flesh, trying to break free from the constraint of his slacks.
Brandon pulled her arms farther back. With her hips poised in the air, face and breasts pressing into the grainy leather, and Brandon behind her, Sandra had never felt so helpless.
Or so turned on.
His pants slid down his legs, and suddenly Brandon’s cock slapped against her naked skin. She moaned and wiggled her hips back, needing to feel him inside her.
“You like that?” Brandon mused. Before she could reply, he gave a tug on her wrists, with enough strength to lift her upper body off the chaise. A jolt of pain spread through her body from her shoulders, but it was forgotten when Brandon grabbed hold of her ass hard. “Do you want me inside you?”