He still looked dangerous. Caged, but still dangerous, like if she came to close, he’d pounce and devour. He wasn’t happy with the situation in the least, but he was keeping his word.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered as she came closer. She put out her hand to touch his chest and ran her fingers along the lines and contours, down to his flat abdomen and lower until her fingers tangled in the wiry hair between his legs.
She found his cock, long and at rest. The moment she touched him, it came alive in her palm, twitching and expanding in size.
Mesmerized, she stroked and petted over his hips, around to his firm buttocks and then up over the small of his back to the broad expanse of his shoulders. Here the muscles coiled and bulged tightly in response to his arms being stretched over his head.
Unable to resist, she pressed her lips to the center of his back and let them rest there for a long moment. He trembled beneath her lips despite his obvious effort to remain unaffected.
Finally she drew away and retrieved the whip she’d selected. She faced him, holding the leather in her hands.
“You like inflicting pain. I know it’s a turn-on for you. But you enjoy receiving it as well. Is it a weakness that I like the same pain, Micah? Am I weak and pathetic for acknowledging my desires?”
He shook his head. “Of course not. A woman who knows what she wants, who’s honest with herself and her partner, is a woman to be desired above all others.”
“Then why doesn’t the same apply to you?” she asked. “Why are you ashamed to admit your desires? Why do you think allowing me or anyone else to give you what you want makes you weak?”
He closed his eyes and turned his head away. When he looked back at her again, anger and frustration bubbled in his eyes.
“It’s not the same. I’m supposed to be the strong one. I’m supposed to take care of Hannah—you.”
Not responding, she circled him, remembering the last time she’d held the whip in her hands as she gazed at his tanned back. She remembered his soft plea not to go easy. He hadn’t known it was her, but he’d needed what she could give him. Now she would show him again.
She flicked her wrist, expertly sending the whip over his back. The crack was loud, echoing over the silence. He flinched as the red welt appeared as a diagonal slash across his flesh.
“Tell me how to please you,” she murmured as she stood to the side. “You see, Micah, you can still be in control. Tell me what you want. What you need.”
“Harder,” he said on a groan. “Cover my back. Leave your mark, Angel. Make it burn.”
She moved again and added an identical stripe just two inches lower than the last. His hands clenched and unclenched above him. The muscles in his arms bulged and rippled.
She worked down, leaving a row of neatly placed welts. She started light and added intensity with each additional lash. When she reached his ass, she worked back up, crossing the earlier marks until all lines were crossed, each one redder than the last.
“Harder,” he hissed.
Her brow furrowed in concentration because despite his command, she wouldn’t shred his skin. Tiny droplets of blood welled, beading the thin lines, but she held back. Never would she hurt him. Never would she go too far.
By the time she’d covered his back in an intricate design of crisscrossing marks, he was panting, his breaths coming long and hard. Sweat dripped from his face, and he hung his head as exhaustion crept over him.
She dropped the whip and walked around to face him. His head was lowered, but his eyes glowed with arousal, with excitement.
Her gaze went to his groin, and his cock pushed impatiently outward, stiff and erect. She fell to her knees and fisted it in her hands.
“Oh God, Angel,” he whispered when her mouth closed around him. “Don’t, baby. I’m too big, too hard this way. You can’t take me.”
Oh yes, he was aroused, and she was determined she’d take everything he had to give and more.
She relaxed her entire body, gripped his hips and eased him forward until he touched the back of her throat. She sucked in air through her nose and then forced him deeper, taking him all the way to the balls.
She fought the reflex to gag and focused her entire concentration on his pleasure. She eased back, letting him slide over her tongue until the head balanced delicately there. Holding him tight in her hand, she swirled her tongue around the flared edges, exploring the differing textures. Rough, smooth, puckered and silky.
He moaned softly when she took him all the way again. For a long moment she held them there, deep against her throat, until she was forced to relent and ease away again.
This time when she grasped him in her hand, she pulled her mouth away and tilted his cock up so she had access to the underside. She ran her tongue along the thick vein, following it down to his puckered sac.
She licked, kissed and nibbled, letting his balls roll over her tongue. She sucked one into her mouth, and he gave a hoarse shout. She cupped him, fondled him and made sweet love to him with her mouth.
A tiny spurt of fluid spilled onto her cheek where his cock lay as she played with his sac. Knowing he was close, she rocked back on her heels and guided him back into her mouth.
She took him hard and fast, working him with her hand, swallowing him with her mouth. She tightened her grip and clamped down around him as she sucked.
A hot spurt hit the back of her throat. Then another and still it kept coming. She swallowed and continued sucking him, taking him deep, allowing him to pour himself into her mouth.
When the last spilled onto her tongue, she eased up, lapping gently at him, her hand soothing now instead of hard. She cupped his balls and massaged as she finally allowed him to slide from the clasp of her lips.
He was spent. Exhausted. His entire body trembled and a sheen of sweat lay over his skin. She hurried to retrieve the chair, and then climbed up to untie his wrists. He swayed and took a step back, but she was there, tucking herself against his waist and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
“Come with me,” she said quietly. “I’m not finished.”
“I hope to hell you are,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t take any more.”
She smiled and guided him quietly down the hall and into the bedroom. He started for the bed, but she pulled him in the direction of the bathroom.
He went willingly, and she left him long enough to start the shower. Hot and full of steam just the way he liked.
Despite his lethargy, one of his eyebrows went up when she started to pull off her clothes. She ignored him and pushed him toward the shower.
The spray hit them both, and he groaned as the water sluiced over his raw back. For a moment he leaned against the wall of the shower, his forehead resting on his arm. He closed his eyes and let the water wash over him.
She took a washcloth and lathered it well with the bar of soap. Then she began to wash him. Sudsy foam made a trail up his body, only to be washed away as soon as it appeared. She lovingly touched every single part of his skin. She bathed his wounds, caressed his hurts and followed each touch with a gentle kiss.
Her heart welled with love for him. Seeing him vulnerable had shaken her to the core. He was so strong and yet he had needs just as she did. She wanted to tell him he didn’t always have to be the strong one. He could lean on her when he needed to.
After washing and rinsing his hair, she turned the shower off and started to get out. He caught her arm. “But what about you, Angel?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Tonight was all about you, Micah.”
When he reached for the towel she held, she again shook her head and proceeded to dry his body, taking extra care not to abrade his tender back. She wiped all the way down to his feet and back up again. Then she had him sit on the toilet seat so she could dry his hair.