bottle, still dripping from the ice bucket. Winding a hand into her hair, he coaxed her head back into an arch, bowing her body and holding the bottle over her upthrust breasts. The icy drops spattered her overheated skin, startling her.
He held the mouth of the bottle over her lips and she obediently opened. The clean froth of it flooded her mouth, dazzlingly cold. She swallowed and he kept pouring, the frosty stream pouring over her throat and breasts. He set the bottle down and, slipping an arm under the small of her back, he lifted her breasts to his mouth, licking away the champagne and the sweat of her pain and desire. He kissed and suckled her while she moaned, a limp flower in his arms.
He licked up her throat and cupped her skull in his other hand. His eyes drilled into her. “You’re mine now, darling. Taylor and M, both.”
She opened her mouth—to say what, she didn’t know—but she lost the words anyway to his devouring kiss. Really, at this point she didn’t care to argue. It could be true—she’d likely yield up whatever he asked for. She knew how relentless he could be in the boardroom, how he kept pushing until he got his way. Now he had her and it felt like a liberation. If only for these few hours, perhaps she could offer him everything.
“I wonder what it takes to get you to stop thinking,” he said against her mouth. “I could practically hear the gears start up again.”
“I never stop thinking.” Taylor caught his lower lip between her teeth, nipping him. “Go to one of your sex-slave bimbos if you want that.” The asperity in her tone surprised her, as did the surge of anger.
Kirliss gave her an unreadable look. Maybe he was surprised that she’d pointed out the obvious. He was good at this and clearly practiced with a lot of women. No one set up a bondage fantasy in their house not to use it frequently.
“I told you before. I’m not interested in having a slave.” He went over to the side table and wiped his hands on the towel, then brought another little table to set in front of her. Its glass top gleamed in the diffused light.
“Then what are you interested in?” Taylor tried to make it sound taunting.
He picked up the black leather belt, coiled it into a neat circle and laid it on the table, glancing up under elegant eyebrows.
“You.”
The answer was simple, straightforward, yet it unsettled her. She squirmed, tugging on the ropes.
“You’re a fascinating woman. You don’t flinch at the bonds, the belt, even my little toys, but when I mention any of the softer emotions, you wriggle like a small child.”
“This isn’t about soft emotions, Kirliss. This is sex.”
“Is it?” His voice was mild as he arranged several crystal bottles and various implements on the table, but the muscles of his chest rippled.
“Yes. This is kink, pure and simple. Not romance.”
“You think this is about me, about my desires.”
“Isn’t it? You seem to be having a good time.”
He slanted a wolfish grin at her. “Can’t deny that.” Then his face sobered. “If I’d approached you with romance, you would have shut me out, yet again. You deny your connections to other people. No one knows the tender insides, do they?”
Suddenly afraid in a way she hadn’t been, feeling more exposed, she tugged on her bonds.
Kirliss watched her, eyes sympathetic. “It’s hard for you, but I will lay you open. The stakes for me are too high. You’ll trust me, because you’ll have no choice.”
She couldn’t tear her eyes from his face.
“Time to pry you open, Taylor. Let’s see if we can find where M is hiding.”
He set something that looked like a small brass telescope with chains attached on the table, then came over to her. Taylor braced herself for more tormenting touches. Did “pry open” mean what she thought it did? None of her lovers had ever suggested that, and she hadn’t been able to bring herself to ask.
Kirliss placed the tip of his finger between her
He held the mouth of the bottle over her lips and she obediently opened. The clean froth of it flooded her mouth, dazzlingly cold. She swallowed and he kept pouring, the frosty stream pouring over her throat and breasts. He set the bottle down and, slipping an arm under the small of her back, he lifted her breasts to his mouth, licking away the champagne and the sweat of her pain and desire. He kissed and suckled her while she moaned, a limp flower in his arms.
He licked up her throat and cupped her skull in his other hand. His eyes drilled into her. “You’re mine now, darling. Taylor and M, both.”
She opened her mouth—to say what, she didn’t know—but she lost the words anyway to his devouring kiss. Really, at this point she didn’t care to argue. It could be true—she’d likely yield up whatever he asked for. She knew how relentless he could be in the boardroom, how he kept pushing until he got his way. Now he had her and it felt like a liberation. If only for these few hours, perhaps she could offer him everything.
“I wonder what it takes to get you to stop thinking,” he said against her mouth. “I could practically hear the gears start up again.”
“I never stop thinking.” Taylor caught his lower lip between her teeth, nipping him. “Go to one of your sex-slave bimbos if you want that.” The asperity in her tone surprised her, as did the surge of anger.
Kirliss gave her an unreadable look. Maybe he was surprised that she’d pointed out the obvious. He was good at this and clearly practiced with a lot of women. No one set up a bondage fantasy in their house not to use it frequently.
“I told you before. I’m not interested in having a slave.” He went over to the side table and wiped his hands on the towel, then brought another little table to set in front of her. Its glass top gleamed in the diffused light.
“Then what are you interested in?” Taylor tried to make it sound taunting.
He picked up the black leather belt, coiled it into a neat circle and laid it on the table, glancing up under elegant eyebrows.
“You.”
The answer was simple, straightforward, yet it unsettled her. She squirmed, tugging on the ropes.
“You’re a fascinating woman. You don’t flinch at the bonds, the belt, even my little toys, but when I mention any of the softer emotions, you wriggle like a small child.”
“This isn’t about soft emotions, Kirliss. This is sex.”
“Is it?” His voice was mild as he arranged several crystal bottles and various implements on the table, but the muscles of his chest rippled.
“Yes. This is kink, pure and simple. Not romance.”
“You think this is about me, about my desires.”
“Isn’t it? You seem to be having a good time.”
He slanted a wolfish grin at her. “Can’t deny that.” Then his face sobered. “If I’d approached you with romance, you would have shut me out, yet again. You deny your connections to other people. No one knows the tender insides, do they?”
Suddenly afraid in a way she hadn’t been, feeling more exposed, she tugged on her bonds.
Kirliss watched her, eyes sympathetic. “It’s hard for you, but I will lay you open. The stakes for me are too high. You’ll trust me, because you’ll have no choice.”
She couldn’t tear her eyes from his face.
“Time to pry you open, Taylor. Let’s see if we can find where M is hiding.”
He set something that looked like a small brass telescope with chains attached on the table, then came over to her. Taylor braced herself for more tormenting touches. Did “pry open” mean what she thought it did? None of her lovers had ever suggested that, and she hadn’t been able to bring herself to ask.
Kirliss placed the tip of his finger between her
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