The trip to the bed and breakfast only took a few minutes, and she left Mason on the sidewalk to try to bury herself in the business of the inn. Cover story or not, she had to keep it running smoothly. It gave her something to think about besides Jericho and their assignment, so she was grateful for the distraction. She checked the rooms, chatted with guests, served tea and cakes, then immersed herself in paperwork. A typical workday, and the routine of it after a year was soothing. Her night manager rousted her from the small office behind the check-in counter at just after seven that evening, shooing her toward the back door and her little cottage.
Jericho would be there soon. He'd made sure they spent every night together this week. Sometimes in her bed, sometimes in his. So, she waited, anticipation creating a lovely buzz in her system-or maybe it was just her brain buzzing from too much coffee and too little rest. She puttered around, put in a pan of lasagna for dinner, took a basket of clean laundry into her bedroom to fold and put away. The house was quiet, peaceful. It reminded her of the solitary life she led, and how lonely it could be. Banishing the unwanted thought, she forced her attention to the task at hand. She was hanging a dress in her small walk-in closet when Jericho arrived. She didn't hear him come in, she just became aware of him standing in her bedroom, watching her with that intent gaze of his.
«I took dinner out of the oven to cool. It smells great.» He braced his shoulder against the doorjamb to her closet.
«Thanks.»
Without trying, he dominated the space, his shoulders blocking the light streaming in from her bedroom. She reached overhead to jerk the chain attached to the overhead light. The naked bulb flooded the space with brightness, and she blinked to clear the sudden spots from her vision. Finished putting away the last of her laundry, she turned to exit. Jericho was still there, but he wasn't looking at her. Instead, he stroked a finger down a jumble of silk scarves she had dangling from one hanger. When he met her gaze, his expression was considering, but the tiny smile that twitched the corners of his lips was pure sin.
«These are pretty.»
She swallowed, trying to generate some moisture in her suddenly parched throat. «I like them.»
«I'm glad.» His voice dropped to a low rumble that reached down deep inside her. «Take off your clothes.»
«Jericho…»
«Things have been so good this week, haven't they? Better than ever, for me, anyway. But I want more from you. I've been dying to have you at my mercy, Tori. Let me. You know you like it, you want it. I want it.» Some emotion she couldn't recognize flittered through his gaze, quickly masked behind a persuasive little grin. He plucked up a handful of the scarves, sliding them between his long fingers. She stared, mesmerized. «Let me please you, Vitoria.»
She hadn't let him tie her up in the last week, deliberately. He'd hinted, but she'd always managed to distract him. It was too intimate, too trusting. But the effect of days on end with him, the sweetness of it, had drugged her. A slow, insidious contentment had wound through her. She closed her eyes, swallowed, her heart twisting in her chest.
«Please…» But she didn't know what she was asking for-for him to stop tempting her, for him to give her exactly what he'd offered.
The light in front of her shifted, and when she looked at him again, she saw he'd stepped back to allow her to pass him. She swayed until her breasts brushed his chest, and when she met his gaze, he groaned at whatever he saw there. Tossing the scarves across the foot of the bed, he reached for her, had them both naked before her brain could even fully acknowledge what she was about to let him do. Despite all her very good reasons, her resistance crumbled. It always did with him. This thing she had going with him now would be over soon, and she would never have this chance again. So, she'd take it. Her eyes were open, she knew what she was doing. She just hoped her heart survived.
He stretched her arms over her head, looping silky fabric around each of her wrists and then attaching them to the swirls of wrought iron that made up her headboard. She tested the bindings, tugging at them while he repeated the process with her ankles. The muscles in her thighs tensed in an automatic motion to protect herself from so much vulnerability, but she couldn't close her legs, couldn't move. A shudder ran through her when he flipped on the bright bedside lamp, framing her in a circle of light that made her feel even more exposed.
Excitement whipped through her, even though she reminded herself this was temporary insanity. He moved between her thighs, forcing her legs even wider. His cock was a hard arc that danced just under his navel, pre-come already rolling in slow beads down the long shaft. The sight made her belly clench and molten heat pumped through her veins. She waited for him to touch, to take, but instead he just stared down at her. When he spoke, his voice shook. «You are so damn beautiful.»
She swallowed, made a smile quirk her lips. «You're not so bad yourself, cowboy.»
It was nothing less than the truth. Jericho had a gorgeous body-the kind that made women pant, all broad shoulders and narrow hips, rippling abs and tight pecs. Plus, he was hung. She tried not to drool, but this was a fantasy come true. Bound, naked, and offered up like a buffet for his pleasure. With any other man, that might be a problem for her, but this was Jericho. She knew he'd make it good for her. In that, he'd never failed her.
He reached for her. His dark hair fell over his forehead as he leaned forward, his heavy-lidded gray eyes shining with naked desire. Her nipples tightened when his gaze touched them, and she strained against the silk scarves, wanting to get closer to him. That she couldn't only made it better for her, made her burn. A fine tremor ran through his hands when he stroked over her collarbone, down to shape her breasts in his palms. Her breath caught as his callused hands stimulated her sensitive nipples. He lifted her breasts, kissed the soft, plumped curves. His touch was gentle, and far too slow to satisfy her. She was so ready when he took her nipple into his mouth and began to suckle that she screamed and jerked on the scarves. Tears blurred her vision and tingles flowed in rippling waves over every inch of her flesh. She was damp, flushed, ready for him to take her and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to hurry him up. God she loved this, loved him, loved the way he touched her, kissed her, pleased her. She gritted her teeth to suppress the urge to tell him. Giving him that much would destroy her, and she knew it. All she could do was take what he offered-sex-hot, sweaty and dirty.
The smooth, hard head of his cock brushed over the lips of her pussy. Need clawed at her, made her writhe in response. She arched herself for him, a silent offering, a demand, and he chuckled. The sound was nothing short of sinful, and it ratcheted up her anticipation even further. «I can't wait much longer, Jericho.»
«Yes, you can. You will. And you'll like it.» He moved down her body, his broad shoulders keeping her thighs spread wide, and his breath whispered over the moist folds of her swollen sex. «I promise.»
She whimpered, tugging hard on her bindings, desperate for the wild, mindless pleasure only he had ever given her. The first stroke of his tongue on her pussy made her jolt, scream and twist. His lips closed over her clit and sucked. The breath exploded from her lungs and she couldn't drag in enough oxygen to plead, beg, and cry for more, for relief, for anything and everything he had to give her as long as he kept that wicked promise. Her muscles throbbed with the strain of pulling at the ties on her ankles and wrists, but she couldn't lie still. She craved him so much.
His rough, callused fingertips brushed up the insides of her thighs, raising goose bumps on her flesh and making her shiver. He teased the lips of her sex before easing two thick fingers into her slick channel. The rhythm he set for her was hard, punishing, his fingers and tongue working her until her eyes rolled back in her head. Her entire body shook, fire flowing through her in scorching waves. Her pussy spasmed, locking tight around those fingers. Then he twisted them, hooking his fingertips until they rubbed her in just the right place. A high wail broke from her throat as she convulsed in his arms. Still he pushed her, stroking her and sucking her wet flesh until the need rebuilt, until she was sobbing with the force of a second orgasm rocketing through her.