I tentatively edge myself away from him, pausing and tensing every time he shifts or sighs in his sleep. My body is rigid as I creep my way to the edge of the bed. Once I’m free, I release the breath that I’ve been holding and look down at my handsome man with two days’ worth of stubble. I want to jump straight back into bed with him, but I resist. What I have planned spurs me to leave him sleeping peacefully while I rootle quietly through my bag for my phone.
It’s five o’clock. Shit! Okay, I’ve got to be quick or he’ll be waking soon to drag me around the streets of London on one of his torturous marathons. I creep about the bedroom like a naked burglar, retrieving my stash from the wooden trunk and easing out the contents. The carrier bag crumples, and I grit my teeth, freezing in place as he rolls onto his back on a moan.
I remain like a statue until I’m sure that he’s settled, then make my way over to the bed, padding quietly across the thick carpet.
Right, Mr Ward!
I gently grasp his wrist and tug it gingerly up over his head to the wooden headboard. I struggle. His arm is heavy. I manage to get him in position and slip the handcuff over his wrist and then attach it to one of the wooden bars of the headboard. I stand back and admire my handiwork, feeling rather pleased with myself. Even if he does wake up now, he’s not going anywhere.
I collect the other set of cuffs and make my way around the other side of the bed. I have to kneel on the bed to reach for his arm, but I’m not so worried about waking him now that I have at least one arm secured, although this will work better if he can’t lay any hands on me.
I maneuver his arm cautiously above his head and fasten the other handcuff around the wrist of his damaged hand. It’s looking much better, but I’m mindful that this could hurt if he fights against them.
I stand back smugly. That was way easier than I thought, and he’s still dead to the world. I practically dance my way back over to the bag and finish my preparations before slipping into some stunning black lace underwear that I picked up on my last minute shopping exhibition.
Oh God, he’s going to go spare. I make my way back over to my sprawled, restrained, naked God and climb up to straddle his hips. He stirs and I mentally laugh delightedly when I feel him begin to harden under me. I sit patiently and wait.
It’s not long before his beautiful lashes start flickering and his lids start to twitch. His eyes open and find mine immediately, his morning erection now in full firmness beneath me.
‘Hey, baby.’ His throat is husky as he squints and gains focus.
I run my eyes down his torso, his muscles bunched and taut from the position of his arms. ‘Hey,’ I smile brightly and watch closely as he gains full consciousness and then moves his arms, clanging the metal on the wooden headboard. The abrupt yank on his wrists has his eyes snapping wide open, and I hold my breath, watching his sleepy face as he frowns and looks up over his head.
He jiggles his arms again. ‘What the f**k?’ His voice is still hoarse. He swings his eyes to mine. They are all wide and stunned. ‘Ava, why the f**k am I handcuffed to the bed?’
I fight the grin from my face. ‘I’m introducing a new kind of f**k to our relationship, Jesse.’ I state calmly.
‘Mouth!’ He rattles his wrists again and takes another look at his restrained hands. I see realisation dawn on his handsome face as he turns his eyes back to me. ‘These are not my handcuffs.’ he says warily.
‘No, and there are two pairs. I’m sure you’ve noticed.’ I can’t believe how calm I’m being. I’m crapping it. ‘So, like I was saying, I’ve invented a new f**k, and guess what?’ I ask with a little excitement in my voice. I’m really pushing my luck.
He doesn’t scorn me this time. Instead, he arches a nervous brow. ‘What?’
Oh, I could cuddle him. ‘I thought of it just for you.’ I grind myself onto him teasingly and his chest expands, his jaw tensing. ‘I love you.’
‘Oh, f**king hell.’ he groans.
I place my hands on his chest and lower myself down to his face. He watches me as I descend, his eyes shimmering in anticipation and short pants of breath escaping his parted lips. ‘How old are you?’ I murmur, brushing my lips lightly over his.
He lifts his head to try and make better contact, but I pull back. He scowls, dropping his head back down. ‘Thirty three.’ he pants, and then moans in despair as I grind down again.
I drop my mouth to his neck and nibble my way up to his ear, licking and lapping as I go. ‘Tell me the truth.’ I whisper, and then bite his lobe gently.
His cheeks puff out. ‘Holy shit! Ava, I am not telling you how old I am.’
I sit up on his chest and shake my head at him. ‘Why?’
His lips form a straight, annoyed line. ‘Undo the cuffs, I want to touch you.’
Ah!
‘No.’ I toss back at him, grinding down again, rubbing him in just the right spot. I’m not unaffected myself, but I have to keep my control here.
‘Fuck!’ He yanks his hands and jerks his legs slightly, causing me to jolt forward. ‘Remove the f**king cuffs, Ava!’
I steady myself. ‘No!’
‘For f**k sake!’ he roars. ‘Don’t play games with me, lady!’
Oh, he’s angry. ‘I don’t think you’re in a position to tell me what to do.’ I remind him coolly. He stills, but he’s heaving long, heavy and very frustrated breaths. ‘Are you going to stop being unreasonable and tell me?’
His eyes narrow good and proper. ‘No!’