blade. She couldn’t do anything. Just like with David, the fear paralyzed her.
“Look at me.” His voice was still low, and a little nervous. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He reached his left hand out, stroking her hair, trailing his fingers through until he reached her shoulder. He cupped it gently, hot fingers burning through her thin sweater.
She was still glued to the seat, her eyes wide with panic. A single tear rolled down her left cheek, finding a winding trail down the contours of her face and pooling by her lip. He reached out and wiped it away with his thumb, his fingers lingering on her cheek.
His voice was stilted when he spoke again. “I was just going to cut off your clothes.” He moved away from her, releasing her face. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Without turning away from her, he slowly leaned back, placing the knife back in the bag behind him. She watched, still silent, as he moved back toward her, putting both arms around her shoulders. Her chest started to hitch, her body wracked with quiet sobs.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled it into her hair. “I didn’t think.” She let her head fall forward, her face nuzzling into the warm skin of his neck. Her lips pushed against his flesh, feeling a pulse point moving under them and the rushing of blood beneath his skin. His arms tightened around her as she began to move her mouth against his neck, kissing him softly, needing to feel the connection.
“You scared me.”
He pulled her closer still. “I know.” His voice sounded firmer, like he was taking back the control. It gave her strength, the ability to center herself, knowing that he was the one in charge. “I’ll never hurt you—not unless you want me to.”
It was as if he could read her innermost thoughts and knew the thin line that separated her fear from desire. She liked it rough, hell she loved it rough, but not knives. Never that.
She breathed him in, then kissed his neck a final time. “Okay.” Her nerves were steady now. The lust was returning to her body, flushing her skin and speeding her heart. She looked at his face, seeing the need mirrored in his own expression. The way his thick bottom lip dropped open made her sigh with need. Maybe she could bury herself in his arms and forget about everything. Get lost in the pain and the pleasure. Rachel liked the idea of that.
She sat still as a mouse while he drew his hand down the front of her sweater, then across the hem, curling his fingers around the thin wool. He pushed his fingers inside, hands dragging across her skin, making her flesh heated and raw.
When his eyes caught hers, there was nowhere to hide. She looked back at him, seeing how open they were, his emotions like a cloud beneath the surface. There was something going on, something that made his hands brush softly against her skin and his head dip until his lips were inches away from hers.
“I’m going to untie the knots.” He pushed his lips against hers, murmuring into her mouth. He kept kissing her as he took his hands from her waist, pulling them out and around her body. Then he broke off, leaning over her shoulder, and she could feel his fingers pulling at the knots around her wrists. The rope pulled against her skin, making her wince. She’d had rope burn before, usually from struggling too much. This time she’d been too excited to still her movements.
The white rope fell to the floor and he started to rub at her skin, encouraging the circulation. His lips moved back to her neck, dragging against her throat. She wasn’t sure what made it feel so hot—the sensation of blood so close to her skin, or the knowledge he trusted her enough to release her hands. She lifted them up, circling them around his neck, digging her fingers into his hair.
He grabbed her sweater and pulled at the hem, lifting it over her head. It fell onto the bare floor. Her chest heaved, and he watched the way her tits rose and fell with unguarded rapture, his breathing
“Look at me.” His voice was still low, and a little nervous. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He reached his left hand out, stroking her hair, trailing his fingers through until he reached her shoulder. He cupped it gently, hot fingers burning through her thin sweater.
She was still glued to the seat, her eyes wide with panic. A single tear rolled down her left cheek, finding a winding trail down the contours of her face and pooling by her lip. He reached out and wiped it away with his thumb, his fingers lingering on her cheek.
His voice was stilted when he spoke again. “I was just going to cut off your clothes.” He moved away from her, releasing her face. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Without turning away from her, he slowly leaned back, placing the knife back in the bag behind him. She watched, still silent, as he moved back toward her, putting both arms around her shoulders. Her chest started to hitch, her body wracked with quiet sobs.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled it into her hair. “I didn’t think.” She let her head fall forward, her face nuzzling into the warm skin of his neck. Her lips pushed against his flesh, feeling a pulse point moving under them and the rushing of blood beneath his skin. His arms tightened around her as she began to move her mouth against his neck, kissing him softly, needing to feel the connection.
“You scared me.”
He pulled her closer still. “I know.” His voice sounded firmer, like he was taking back the control. It gave her strength, the ability to center herself, knowing that he was the one in charge. “I’ll never hurt you—not unless you want me to.”
It was as if he could read her innermost thoughts and knew the thin line that separated her fear from desire. She liked it rough, hell she loved it rough, but not knives. Never that.
She breathed him in, then kissed his neck a final time. “Okay.” Her nerves were steady now. The lust was returning to her body, flushing her skin and speeding her heart. She looked at his face, seeing the need mirrored in his own expression. The way his thick bottom lip dropped open made her sigh with need. Maybe she could bury herself in his arms and forget about everything. Get lost in the pain and the pleasure. Rachel liked the idea of that.
She sat still as a mouse while he drew his hand down the front of her sweater, then across the hem, curling his fingers around the thin wool. He pushed his fingers inside, hands dragging across her skin, making her flesh heated and raw.
When his eyes caught hers, there was nowhere to hide. She looked back at him, seeing how open they were, his emotions like a cloud beneath the surface. There was something going on, something that made his hands brush softly against her skin and his head dip until his lips were inches away from hers.
“I’m going to untie the knots.” He pushed his lips against hers, murmuring into her mouth. He kept kissing her as he took his hands from her waist, pulling them out and around her body. Then he broke off, leaning over her shoulder, and she could feel his fingers pulling at the knots around her wrists. The rope pulled against her skin, making her wince. She’d had rope burn before, usually from struggling too much. This time she’d been too excited to still her movements.
The white rope fell to the floor and he started to rub at her skin, encouraging the circulation. His lips moved back to her neck, dragging against her throat. She wasn’t sure what made it feel so hot—the sensation of blood so close to her skin, or the knowledge he trusted her enough to release her hands. She lifted them up, circling them around his neck, digging her fingers into his hair.
He grabbed her sweater and pulled at the hem, lifting it over her head. It fell onto the bare floor. Her chest heaved, and he watched the way her tits rose and fell with unguarded rapture, his breathing
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