I dropped my eyes to the knife handle sticking out of my bed. My beautiful bed that I’d paid so much money for.
“Your new one gets here tomorrow,” Josh said, his voice deliciously low in his continued effort to disguise it.
I jerked my gaze up to his.
He tilted his head, indicating my mattress. “This one is too small for me, so I got you the same frame, headboard, box spring, and mattress in a California king.”
My breath came out in a rush. He called my cat his son. He bought me a bed for both of us as if he planned on spending a lot of time in it together. When I needed him, he came to me, held me while I cried, helped me work through my issues, and listened without judgment when I confessed to wanting to kill someone.
I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had been there for me like he was. Definitely none of the men I’d slept with or dated lately. They’d all bailed when I got busy at work. What had Josh done? Watched me on shift instead, unwilling to let me out of his sight even when I asked for space.
Twice now, he’d assured me this wasn’t just a kinky hookup for him, but he must have known that words only went so far because he was doing a hell of a job showing me, too. It was time I started believing him instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Yes, he might end up breaking my heart, but if I didn’t give this a chance, I’d be breaking my own heart instead, and possibly his along with it.
I sat up and slipped my arms free from the bathrobe, letting it fall to the covers behind me. His eyes roamed over my body with feverish intensity, like he didn’t know where to look, so he tried to drink all of me in at once. I would never get sick of being looked at this way: like I was someone to be cherished and lusted after at the same time. It made me feel safe with him, even though he still managed to scare me sometimes.
And yet, the slight fear of never knowing what he would do next only had me wanting him more. It made me want to be brave for him, but I still had a few concerns about his request. The knife handle was long and wide, with a rounded head and a slight undulation more suited to a kitchen knife than a hunting blade. I didn’t think it would hurt me, but that still left the risk of infection or slicing myself open.
He reached behind him and dragged his backpack closer. Keeping his eyes on me, he pulled what looked like a disinfecting packet out of it. “If you think I would ever let something happen to that perfect pussy,” he said, gaze dropping to the apex of my thighs, “you’re not paying attention.” He tore the packet open and tugged out a wipe, rubbing the knife handle down. “Get over here, Aly. I’m losing my patience, and you’re not ready for that to happen yet.”
My inner muscles clenched with anticipation. Oh, fuck, why was the thought of him going off the rails so hot?
I slid from the bed and rounded the side toward him, stopping so close that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. I hoped he saw the same thing I did when I looked at him – desire paired with genuine affection. Yes, I coveted his big, gorgeous body, but his personality turned me on just as much.
“I want to kiss you,” I said, the words tumbling from my mouth as the thought entered my head.
“Then turn around,” he rumbled.
I frowned, an argument on the tip of my tongue – because how could we kiss like that? – but something in his gaze told me this wasn’t the time to play fuck around and find out, so I turned and was left to wonder what he planned when I heard rustling from behind me.
He stepped close, his chest brushing my back, and then dropped what felt like a satin sleep mask over my eyes. My world went black as he tied it in place. Okay, this was fine. I could deal with being blindfolded if it meant I got to kiss hi –
I yelped as he jerked my hands behind my back. A little warning would have been nice, but then again, nice wasn’t what I had asked for, was it? I felt the bite of steel on my right wrist, and, yup, he was handcuffing me. Still fine. No need to panic over the thought that I had never been more vulnerable in my entire life.
Please, God or Buddha or whoever the fuck might be listening, do not let me be wrong about this man, I prayed.
“You’re breathing hard, Aly,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone as he used the handcuffs to tug me into him. His arousal dug into my lower back, and I had to stop myself from rubbing up against it like I was in heat. “Are you scared?”
“Yeah, but I like it,” I confessed, and speaking those words felt freeing in a way I hadn’t anticipated.
I’d expected to feel guilty for it, dirty, but when Josh let out a tortured groan and wrapped his large hand around my throat, all I felt was horny. Images of what he could do to me while I was trussed up like this flashed through my mind. He could tie me to a bed rail and edge me until I passed out. Or bend me over and fuck me doggy style, using the handcuffs to yank me backward into every brutal thrust.
Yes, please.
He tightened his hold on my neck briefly before letting go and trailing his fingers lower. I held my breath, anticipation coursing through me as his fingertips bumped over my clavicle. With my vision obscured, my other senses came to life. My skin became hypersensitive to his touch. The soft exhales stirring my hair sounded like whispered sighs. We were pressed so close that I felt his heart beating against my back, just as fast as mine, the only sign that he was as affected by this as I was.
As one hand slid down, the other started trailing up, and they met in the middle, cupping my breasts just like they had on the couch. The difference was that there was no hesitation this time, Josh’s thumbs stroking over my nipples, back and forth, off tempo so that each peak was stimulated before I even processed the pleasure radiating from the other. It went straight to my core, making my knees weak and my pulse trip. I wanted him to feel good, too, so I shifted my hands higher and tried to reach for his erection.
He made a tutting sound and tilted his hips back, denying me. “This is about you,” he said, gently pinching my nipples one after the other. “You’re going to sit. I’m going to play.”
I squirmed within his hold. If he kept this up, I’d be sitting sooner than he intended. On the floor at his feet. My legs weren’t going to last much longer against this sweet torture.
One hand left my breast and slid lower, and he was so much taller than me that he had to lean down to reach between my legs, bringing his lips to my ear. I held my breath, waiting for that first delicious stroke, but it didn’t come. Instead, he traced a teasing line down my upper thigh and then sideways, stopping just shy of where I needed him.
“I want to kiss you too,” he said, his lips ghosting over the shell of my ear.
I shivered and turned my head toward him. This wasn’t a great angle for making out, but I was so desperate that I was willing to risk a permanent crick in my neck if that’s what it took.
He let out a low laugh. “Not on your mouth.”
My head spun as he turned me around. I heard a thud like he’d dropped to his knees before me, and, oh, god, if it weren’t for the handcuffs, I would have ripped the mask off to see such a thing. I was left panting as I awaited his next move, and I had a feeling that he was well aware of what he was doing to me and reveled in making me wait for it. It figured that even now, he was trolling me.
Somehow, I managed to keep my mouth shut instead of cursing him or demanding he touch me, and my anticipation only spiraled higher with every passing second. What was he doing? Where was he looking? How much longer did he plan on dragging this out?