He chuckled, still tracing her face with his fingertips, fascinated by the way she leaned into his touch. “It’s supposed to be something you wouldn’t call out in the heat of passion.”
“Well, I should hope I wouldn’t be screaming out ‘stop,’” she told him, sounding a bit peeved.
“Pick something unusual, that I wouldn’t expect you to call out.”
A wicked gleam shone in her eyes. “Daddy?”
“You’re really trying to kill my erection, aren’t you?” But he laughed.
She grinned, and that weird tension between them dissipated. “Who was the poet from earlier?”
“Pushkin?”
To his surprise, she gave a prim shake of her head. “Sounds awfully close to ‘push it in.’ Maybe I should pick a different safe word. Let’s go with Ozymandias.”
He grinned. Count on his Violet to give a safe word—something he didn’t intend on her needing to use—such thorough consideration. “All right then, Ozymandias it is. Now, give me your hands.”
She held them out, wrists up and together in the air, the look on her face full of trust and nervousness.
He felt like he was being given a gift. Jonathan took her wrists in his hands and gently placed a kiss on each one. “Before we begin, I want to say thank you, Violet.”
She looked surprised. “Thank you?”
“For trusting me.” The ache in his throat left it knotted. Did she not realize how much her trust in him moved him?
She gave him a tremulous smile. “I do trust you. I’m just scared to.”
He’d make sure he never betrayed that trust again. Carefully, he wrapped her wrists in the silk of the tie in a figure eight motion and then wove the fabric through the middle again. “Too tight?”
She tested her hands. “No, it’s fine.”
“Good. I want to tie these to the headboard now.” He moved to the side and fluffed the pillows on his bed into a big stack, then gestured that she should lay back on them. “Here.”
Her eyes widened but she nodded. Glancing behind her, she scooted back on the bed with little wiggles of her body that made him hot with need. When she finally backed up against the pillows, she lay down and experimentally raised her hands above her head.
“Perfect.” Jonathan grasped the tie dangling between her wrists and examined the headboard. It was thick, heavy wood with a cutout Greek key design that was ideal for him to secure his knots. He slid one end of the tie through and knotted it. “Still good?”
She nodded. “Do you do this a lot? I feel like I should ask that.”
“Never,” he told her. “Never had the urge before now.”
She thought for a moment. “I’m guessing this is a bad time to ask, but . . . did you have anyone seriously after we, you know . . .”
“No,” he told her honestly. “For me, there has never been anyone but you.”
“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or terrifies me.” Her hands twisted against the ties, testing them.
“Why should it terrify you?” He trailed his fingers down one extended arm. Her skin was so soft.
“Because I feel like I can’t live up to any image in your head you have of me from back then. I’m not the same person.”
“I know.” This Violet was more guarded, and when she let him in under her walls, intensely more vulnerable. “I don’t mind the changes. In fact, I love them.”
“My ass isn’t as small as it was—”
“Your ass is beautiful.” His hand moved down her side, skimmed her hip.
She snorted.
“It’s true. It’s big and juicy and I’d love to take a bite out of it.”
She gave a nervous giggle at that.
“What?” he asked, chuckling a bit himself. “I can’t want to sink my teeth into that creamy skin of yours?”
“You make me sound like dinner.”
“No, you’re dessert. Sweet, delicious, and I can’t wait to taste you on my lips.”
Her breath caught in her throat and he watched her lashes flutter again.
“Shall I get undressed?” he asked her, skimming his hand down one lovely thigh.
She nodded, silent.
His hands went to his belt and he began to slowly unbuckle it. Jonathan was pleased that her gaze went to his waist and she watched him, eyes hot, as he slid his belt out of the loops and dropped it to the ground, then unbuttoned his pants and dropped them. His c**k was hard and aching through his boxers. It would have to wait for relief. He intended on making Violet come until she was limp with pleasure. And then maybe once more after that.
With that thought in mind, Jonathan dropped his boxers and stepped out of his clothing.
Her eyes widened and she licked her lips at the sight of him, which just made him harder. “I forgot how good you look naked. That’s so unfair.”
“How is that unfair?” He took his c**k in hand and slowly stroked it, tip to balls, just to watch her reaction. Sure enough, her gaze followed his hand, riveted. He liked that.
“Because you shouldn’t look that delicious. Here I was trying to get over you, and you look better than ever. I mean, you’ve got a six-pack practically up to your throat.”
As he stroked his hand down his c**k again, her gaze followed and she licked her lips once more, then made a soft whimper in her throat.
“Are you just going to sit there and tease me?” she asked.
“Nothing wrong with a bit of teasing,” Jonathan told her, and gave his c**k another fierce stroke with his hand, enjoying the way her eyes gleamed in response. “Whets the appetite.”
“But I already had a healthy appetite,” she told him.
“Mmm. Healthy, but not ravenous.”
“And are you ravenous?”
“For you, I am.”
She gave a little shiver. “Then show me.”
How could he resist that suggestion?
Jonathan took a few steps toward the bed and crawled in next to her, his gaze locked on her face. He watched her nervous eyes flicker over his body as he draped his bigger form over hers, and then he was on all fours over her helpless form. Her body was trapped below his. Jonathan grinned down at her, feeling wickedly in control. He liked that Violet was his to do with as he liked, and he intended to exercise that control. “Still trust me?”
“Of course.” She sounded more confident than she looked.
“Good.” He leaned in and gave her a light, nipping kiss.