Rough Surrender (8 page)

She let out a long breath, marked her bottom lip with her teeth and shoved the pillow farther away.

He strode closer, to the side of the bed. To her surprise he put a knee on the bedspread, bowing the mattress, then moved in, slowly leaning across and placing his hand on the other side of her head.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I just couldn’t do it. This is so strange, unladylike–”

“
Shhh
. It’s all right, this is new for you. Just seeing you naked on the bed pleases me. Though I’d love to have seen you with your legs open, waiting.”

Heat seared her cheeks.

His lips curved. “You can blush. I wasn’t sure. Let’s see if I can make you heat up elsewhere, sweetheart.” He shifted, putting the length of one arm above her head to take his weight then splaying his other hand across her stomach. The shock of the pressure of his hand made her gasp. Down below, inside her, clenched and released. One of his fingers found her belly button and circled it.

“From now, it’s yes or no, sir, or Mr. Meisner.”

She nodded then remembered. “Yes. Sir.” Just saying the words reinforced his power over her. He was going to do what he liked to her.
Yes
.

Amber flecks flashed in his pupils as he came lower and paused with his mouth an inch from hers. Mesmerized, she waited. So close, she felt and heard the subtle stir of his breathing.

He kissed her. First, barely touching, featherlight, exploring her lips, until she tried to turn and follow his lips, only to find he was leaning on her hair and his hand on her belly pressed her to the bed. Again, he’d imprisoned her. She shut her eyes and shivered at the realization.

As if he knew how she’d awoken, he pressed the kiss harder, delving his tongue deeper, entangling with hers and forcing her to respond or be overwhelmed. She moaned under the assault of teeth, tongue and lips. His hand came up and held her chin, turning her as he wished. Without giving her respite, he covered her whole mouth with his until she seemed about to disintegrate under him and sink into the mattress.

When he stopped and lifted his lips it was several seconds before she could flutter her eyes open. Her mouth was swollen. Tingling warmth pulsed back and forth to belly and crotch. Her clitoris–that newly discovered wondrous part of her–throbbed hard with every pant and every hammer of her blood.

There was fiery satisfaction in Mr. Meisner’s gaze.

“Stay there, on your back, like that. Leave your knees where they are.”

Where they were? Oh
. She’d drawn them up and wedged her heels into the bedspread, had been shoving her groin up as if she couldn’t get enough of what he did.
How true
. Just his kisses left her devastated. She let out a long intense breath.
Do something to me. Please!

He rose from the bed and, starting with his coat, methodically took off his clothes. All the while, his eyes didn’t move from hers.

With her knees up, he could see her down there.
Daunting. Did the man ever blink?

“Open your legs, Faith. Let me see you.”

Oh
. That went straight in, piercing her with longing. Unable to look away from his undressing, she slowly let her legs open, heard the small wet sound of her lower lips parting.

His shirt was unbuttoned and off, his trousers and boots and underclothes gone to a neat pile at the bottom corner of the bed. Mr. Meisner, naked, looked like an Adonis newly chiseled from stone by Michelangelo. Her mouth was open and her breathing very obviously labored, but she cared not at all. Between his legs arose his erect penis. She’d heard all the gossip over the years, mostly from her maids. When the organ was stiff like that, a man had one thing in mind–sex. Long and thick, with a bulbous head, it moved a little, bobbing as he went to the end of the bed. She’d seen animals have sex–
that
was supposed to go inside her.

The first time was painful, or so she’d heard. Looking at the size of his penis, she couldn’t see how it would fit inside a woman. She’d said no sex, yet she couldn’t stop glancing at it.

“You look worried again. What are you thinking?”

Heavens, no
. Did he really expect her to say?

He walked over to the curtain, collected the curtain cord still hanging there.
Oh dear.
His eyes glinted with mischief when he saw she’d noticed. Then he picked up a long mirror on a timber stand, brought it to the end of the bed and dropped the cord next to the other one.

“That was a question, Faith. Tell me what you’re thinking.” He gave her a twisted smile, as if he knew what she had on her mind was nothing she ever wanted to say out loud.

“Uh. No, sir.”

Mr. Meisner sat on the bed. “No, is not an option. Tell me. You don’t want to know what I’ll do if you lie.”

I don’t?
His unreadable expression gave her nothing to work with. Then she registered how his big capable hands were toying with the cords. He was going to tie her up again. That strange feeling swirled in her stomach–trepidation and want and excitement all jumbled together. She was going to let him do it, wasn’t she? Somehow, being tied up when he was unhappy with her seemed going a little too far.

“I, uh–” This was so embarrassing. Yet, what she was doing with Mr. Meisner was beyond anything she’d ever imagined. “I wondered how you would fit
that
inside a woman.”

“This? Inside you?” He touched his erect organ. “Don’t worry. I’ll take it slow when it happens.”

“Uh...I didn’t–”

When
, as if there was no doubt it would. As if she would say, yes. For the first time, no matter all that had gone before, she tried to imagine how that might be...and failed completely.

Casually, as if it were nothing, he reached out and put his hand on the inside of her thigh. She jerked but didn’t move away. “Tonight, I’ll stretch you a little.”

When he moved his hand in until a finger touched the lips of her slit, she inhaled a lungful, and held it, fairly quivering. She wasn’t game to ask what he would use to stretch her, and she didn’t care, because all of her, right then, was waiting for his finger to move again.

He pulled away.

“Faith, I want you to hold your ankles.” That deep growling, jungle-beast tone went straight to the deepest parts of her mind and said to her,
obey
.

She swallowed, crept her hands down across the bedspread and found her ankles, then held them.

“I’m going to tie you that way.”

Chapter 8

Faith couldn’t stop herself from squirming her bottom.
I’m going to tie you that way
. If he hadn’t told her to keep her legs open, she’d have squeezed her thighs together to relieve the exquisite ache down there.

Then, for a moment of time, her normal, sensible, everyday brain kicked in and she let go her ankles and stared at Mr. Meisner. Tied up, as she was, he could do anything. He hadn’t before, but this was worse. She’d be at his mercy completely.

Which is entirely the point, silly
. She wanted this, and yet shouldn’t. Sensible said,
no
. Every other part of her screamed,
yes
.

“Having second thoughts?”

She huffed. “Wherever did you get your degree in mind reading, Mr. Meisner? Oops, sir. Uh...”
Tarnation
. There she went again, worrying about his instructions and all that. He’d said he would stop and leave her if she wanted. She fidgeted, and couldn’t help caving in and asking him, “Was that a spanking misdemeanor, sir?”

He grinned, then frowned and spoiled the new easygoing look. “Not if you’re truly lost. I respect that you might have questions, Faith.” He reached up grabbed her ankle and hauled her to him. Surprised, she squeaked. When he bit her on the underside of her thigh the squeak turned into a squeal.

“Not that I would be happy to let you go.” He patted her leg and smoothed his hand over the spot he’d bitten. “But I would.”

Oh, so not fair
. The bite had set up a chain reaction, sending surges of sensation to her groin and breasts, and with his hand rubbing her leg the feeling strengthened. Mouth parted a little, she stared down at where he held her thigh in both hands, massaging.

“I thought...” Her words came out rough and she cleared her throat and started again. “I thought you’d walk out if I questioned you at all?”

“Not anymore,” he said, voice on the verge of a growl. “I know now that you like this, Faith. If you let me, if you trust me enough, I’ll show you a world of pleasure.”

“Oh.”
Sweet Jesus
. Put like that... She might know him for a thousand days and yet not know how he’d treat her once he had her bound. Jeremy, ever so staid and sensible Jeremy, trusted Mr. Meisner. It wasn’t as if she could ask for references. She nibbled her lip. Jeremy trusted him. That would do. That and what she’d seen of his behavior. The man frightened her at times but, somehow, that only added to his allure. She liked that wild edge of his personality.

He’d been waiting patiently. “Done?”

Go away, sensible brain
.

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes. I’ll let you...I mean–”

“Good. Then no more nonsense. Hold your ankles.” Without waiting, he pushed the ankle of the leg he held right up close to her bottom, took her hand and made her wrap it around the ankle. The cord seemed to have magically appeared in his hands. With the ease of practice, he wound it about ankle and wrist, and tied it snugly. He shifted across on his stomach to her other side, and put his hand out as if waiting for something.

The switch from
nice and patient
to
sir
had left her stunned and blinking. Already he’d secured her on one side. She could feel how little give there was–and there was none.

“Faith.”

Hurriedly, she grabbed her other ankle, watching as he repeated the winding of the cord and the knots. Now her legs were spread open and wide. She closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation.
Helpless...so peculiar, how she enjoyed this
. Emotions tugged at her and she couldn’t say exactly what they were, except she felt lost, released from the normal things that anchored her to the everyday world.

“There,” he said. “Now I have you exactly as I want you, and you can’t do anything about it. Can you?” She looked back at him, and found she couldn’t even seem to nod. Those brown eyes assessed her before he placed his hand over her mound, his fingers pressing into her slit. “So very nicely wet. It means you do like this. You know that? Answer me, Faith.”

Strange, but tears had gathered in her eyes. She tried to ignore them but one welled up and leaked down the side of her face. “Yes. I know.”

He pushed himself off the bed and came around to where he could sit beside her head then brushed away the track of her tear. “It’s all right, sweetheart. This can get a bit much the first time.”

* * * *

The first time
. There was falsehood in those words, Leonhardt thought. Though this wasn’t his first time tying up a woman, by any way of measuring things, still, what he’d said made it sound like he’d dealt with tears before.

Faith looked up at him with those wide, puppylike eyes–all trusting and giving. He could just forge on and do exactly what he wanted. After all she was enjoying this...

“Tears. Damnation.” He lowered himself until he stretched alongside her, propped on his elbow. Black strands of her hair had strayed out across the bed and fairly begged him to toy with them. So he did. With his other hand he cupped her chin and caressed her lower lip–so endearingly puffy and pink from his kissing. His cock jumped when it touched Faith’s ankle and the spike of pleasure made it stiffen even more. With her hands attached to her ankles, she looked just like a present for him to open at his leisure.

“Woman. The things you make me want to do.” He harrumphed then wrenched his mind away, back to why he’d paused. Should he say what he was thinking?

Her gaze had stayed on him the whole time, examining his face, as if what he said meant the world to her. She trusted him. But...should she?

“You can talk,
mon cherie
.”

“What is it, sir? I’m sorry for crying.” Her arm and shoulder muscles tensed, relaxed, as if she tried to shrug but the position he’d tied her in made shrugging difficult.

Cute–how much he loved watching her little struggles. So irresistible with those gold cords curved round her slender wrists.

Again he reminded himself of his purpose.

“Don’t be sorry for crying. It’s an honest response. It’s you.” He’d never found a woman he didn’t have to pay to do this. Always before, they’d been whores. Now he’d found someone, a woman, who plainly liked it. This was unknown territory for him, and crying, well, what if he went too far too fast? Yet if he told her his history, he’d lose her trust. The answer was simple, he wouldn’t tell her.

“I just felt lost there–” Her brow creased with fine lines and he couldn’t resist lifting his hand to smooth them away with his fingers.

He put his hand over her mouth for a second then trailed his fingers down her throat and onto her breast. When she wriggled and tested the ropes, he smiled. “Faith, I’m delighted with who you are. But your distress, your crying, I just need to know that I’m not pushing you too far...”