“And how exactly are you going to show your appreciation?” I asked, as soon as we were in the condo alone.
“I thought I would fuck you,” he said.
“Oh. I—good plan.”
“But not right away,” he continued, his voice rough. “First I have to make sure you want it.”
I licked my lips. I already wanted it, but I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to hear exactly what he had in mind.
“I’m going to tie you up, Lina. I’m going to tie your wrists together and use a single cord to bind them in place. Do you know why I want a single cord instead of stretching your arms wide?”
I shook my head, and shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to ease the building pressure between my legs.
“So I can have you on your back and close my mouth over your breasts. So I can kiss you and suckle you and trail kisses all the way down to your sweet, slick cunt.”
I swallowed. I think I may have moaned.
“And then I can flip you over, pivoting your body on that one point, and I can spank your ass until you beg me to fuck you, and then I can sink deep into you from behind, filling you until you think you can’t take any more, and then going even deeper.” He leaned closer, then nipped playfully at my earlobe before whispering. “So tell me, sweetheart. Does that sounds like a good way to show my appreciation?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice breathy with desire. My cunt was already throbbing, and my nipples were painfully tight behind the tank I wore. “Yes, please.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” he asked, as he took my hand, then bent to pick up his briefcase.
I expected him to lead me to the bedroom, but he headed for the spiral staircase. “Evan?”
“Hush,” he said, and I fell back into silence, trusting that whatever he had planned would be something I wanted.
When we reached the patio, he led me to the edge. Each pane of glass was held in place between iron bars topped with a decorative finial. “Here,” he said, moving a potted plant to give me room. “Take off your clothes.”
I met his eyes, wanting to be as bold as he was. Needing him to know just how much I wanted this, too. This moment. This man. And, yes, the adventure to come.
With slow deliberation, I stripped off my shirt, my fingers brushing over my skin before letting it drop to the ground. I removed my bra next, but not before trailing my fingers lightly over the swell of my breasts above the line of the cups.
I licked my lips and kept my eyes on Evan’s face. He looked like a man keeping himself in check, and when I glanced down and saw that his hands were clenched at his sides, I couldn’t help but feel immense satisfaction knowing how much he was having to fight simply so he wouldn’t reach out and touch me. Not yet, anyway.
I moved next to the bra clasp, unfastening it slowly, then using both hands to push the cups off my breasts. I shrugged out of the straps, but didn’t let it fall to the ground. Instead, I let it dangle by a strap over one crooked forefinger.
“Jesus, Lina,” he said.
I just smiled, thoroughly enjoying myself as I flipped it to him, satisfied when he caught it and held it tight in his hand. I rubbed my own hands over my breasts, then closed my eyes and gently gave my nipples a tug as I imagined it was Evan’s hands upon me, not mine. A sizzling cord of desire shot from my breasts down to my cunt, now hot and wet with desire.
I heard a moan and knew it came from me. I’d intended to get him all worked up—to turn the tables and hold control in my hands. Yet here I was, desperate for his touch. So hot I would probably come if he just leaned forward and whispered in my ear.
So much for my grand plan.
Then again, I had no complaints about the way this was working out. He looked just as desperate as I felt, and with a smug smile of satisfaction, I moved on to my jeans, slowly working open the fly, one button at a time. They were skinny jeans, and since I wasn’t actually skinny, I have to do a serious shimmy to get out of them, and I took the opportunity to put on a little show for Evan’s benefit.
I was already in bare feet, and I finally worked the jeans all the way down and toed them off, then stood in front of him in just my thong—a particularly sexy pair as I’d started paying attention to my undies since Evan had come into my life—and my bed.
I met and held his eyes, then slid my finger under the thong’s band and started to tug the panties down.
“No,” he said, his firm word halting my hand. “That’s for me.” He moved closer, the air between us humming as it always did when we were together. “Arms up,” he said, “and stand here.”
I complied, and he let out a low, slow whisper. “Good god, Lina. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
“I only care about how beautiful I am to you.”
“Very,” he said. “Exceptionally.” He bent over to tug something from his briefcase, and when he stood, I saw that it was a strand of rope. He fastened it around my wrists, then wrapped that around the finial above me. “I’m not binding your legs,” he said. “But I expect you to keep your feet where I tell you.”
I nod. “All right.”
“Wider,” he said, and I spread my legs wider. “Beautiful.” He slid his hand down my pubic bone, gliding over the scrap of material that was now my only piece of clothing.
“Keep your feet where they are,” he ordered. “Don’t move until I tell you to.”
I nodded, then closed my eyes as he stepped closer, his fingers stroking my body. Teasing me with light caresses. Playing with my breasts, with my lips, with my fingers. And then stroking my inner thighs, the sensation so wildly sensual that I had no choice but to squirm—and had to force myself not to let my feet move.