WickedSeduction (11 page)

“Your face is sweaty. Hand me one of those cloths and I’ll
blot your forehead.”

Tor noticed she hadn’t asked if anything was wrong with her
design…if a fuck-up had made him perspire so badly. He gave her one of the
cloths.

Her touch was lighter than a sigh. Despite taking care of
him, she didn’t move her arm in the least. Could be her limb had fallen asleep.
“Thanks. You doing all right? Need to get up and move around or anything?”

“I’m good. Watching what you’re doing keeps my mind off the
sting.”

Too bad her attention made Tor painfully aware of each move
he made. He stretched his neck. His shoulder popped loud enough to hear.

“Would you prefer I not watch?” Marnie asked. “Am I making
you nervous?”

He laughed self-consciously. “You know I’ve done this
hundreds of times. Maybe a thousand. But never to you.”

“What you’ve inked so far looks beautiful. Take a deep
breath, lean back and look at the whole thing, not the small part you’ve been
working on for the last ten minutes.”

Clearly, he needed to hide his uncertainty from her. He
heaved in air and made a conscious effort to calm down. Once he had, Tor
regarded her tat and smiled. The outline looked fucking amazing—except for one
spot he needed to align a little better.

Five minutes later, he sighed. “So far, so good. Nearly half
done.”

“And no one’s come in here to bother you.”

He’d been at her tat so long, the others had already shown
up for today’s clients. Minutes before, Lauren’s greeting had sounded down the
hall, followed by Van Gogh’s muttered, “Afternoon,” Jasmina’s listless, “Hey,”
and the cheerier responses from the new artists who’d recently joined the
parlor.

“Jasmina and Van Gogh always so down?” Marnie asked.

Tor wiped away a spot of ink and continued. “He’s more moody
than down. You know, artistic. Jasmina was bubbly as hell until she broke
things off with her boyfriend.”

“He cheat on her?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Breaking up with a guy is either because he’s screwing
around, drinking, doing drugs, or—” She stopped and tensed.

Tor eased the needle away immediately. “That hurt?”

“No.” For the first time, Marnie looked past him rather than
meeting his eyes or staring at the tat.

Tor figured something was up. Not wanting to give her the
third degree, he decided to change the subject. Lighten the mood until she was
ready to say what was on her mind. “Hope you’re working on an appetite. I asked
Rafe to put together a care package for us with what we ordered last time,
along with some new stuff to try. I figured you wouldn’t want to go to the
restaurant with your arm wrapped up.”

Marnie finally turned to him. “Abuse,” she said. “The other
reason a woman breaks up with a guy.”

Her cheeks flushed a dark red, as though she was remembering
her mother and father’s problems.

Tor nodded. “Totally understandable.”

She regarded him for a long moment, as if she wanted to say
something more but didn’t know how.

“What?” he asked.

Marnie sighed. “Nothing. I mean, Jasmina doesn’t strike me
as the type to put up with that crap.”

“She’s not. Any guy lays a finger on her, his mistake would
be his last conscious act on earth.”

“Good for her. I’d love to meet your uncle but not today.
You’re right. I’d rather we eat at your place. How long? Ten, twelve more
hours?”

He gave her a look. “A couple more at the most. I’m being
careful here.”

“You’re trying to be perfect. Relax. I won’t be demanding
until we get into bed.”

He laughed. “Great. No pressure.”

“Want to try something different tonight?”

Tor finished the spot he’d been working on and lifted his
face. “Kink?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“What’s that mean?”

“You’ll see.”

Marnie wasn’t certain whether her pep talk or promise of
what they’d do tonight had settled Tor. He suddenly breezed through the rest of
the outline, though still taking care, his focus on getting the job done rather
than on his fear of hurting her or screwing up the tat.

She’d almost told him about Ethan when they’d been
discussing Jasmina’s problems. In the end, Marnie couldn’t. Dumping stuff on
Tor while he was working on her arm wouldn’t have been fair. He was a great guy
but he was only human. If he’d had enough of her problems, he would have had no
chance to politely beg off and go his own way.

Of course, to let days or weeks roll by without saying
anything didn’t seem fair to him either. When she did finally reveal
everything, Marnie didn’t want Tor to think she’d held back because her tats
weren’t finished or because she had no way to pay for them if her portraits
didn’t sell.

“Do you really think your sketches of me will cover the work
you’re doing?” she asked, regarding the outline he’d just completed. Even
though there was only a hint of what was to come, the artwork was still
spectacular and had already hidden a lot of her scarring.

“Yep. Look good?”

“Oh yeah. What now?”

“I clean your skin again, apply ointment, cover you up and
we take off for the rest of our day.”

He moved swiftly and expertly through the last of her
session.

As they left his station, Lauren was coming down the hall.
She gave Marnie a warm smile.

“How’d things go?” Lauren asked.

“You need to give him a raise,” Marnie said before he could
speak. “Tor’s awesome. I’d show you what he did but he said if I took off the
bandages too soon, my arm would fall off.”

He chuckled. “Did not.”

Lauren nodded. “Sounds like him.”

“Hey,” he said. “Did not.”

Lauren wagged her finger. “You take good care of her.”

Tor hustled Marnie out of the hall.

“Hey,” Jasmina said to him before they could get to the
parlor door. “New client was asking about you. Wanted to know if you could do
him next Wednesday.”

“On my day off?”

“He heard you were here today. Not that I told him…” She
slid her gaze to Van Gogh inking away in the window.

“I don’t care what he heard,” Tor said. “Wednesdays are out
of the question. He has to pick a time when I’m here.”

Jasmina nodded.

Once they were outside, Marnie turned to him. “How much did
you tell Lauren about us?”

“That we’d be here today and I didn’t want anyone disturbing
me unless the place was burning down.”

“Then she knows we’re seeing each other.”

“She guessed when I told her I wasn’t charging you for my
time. Come on.” He took her hand. “Let’s get the food and go home.”

* * * * *

Rafe had packed a feast. For appetizers, they had cassavas
stuffed with beef and fried to a golden brown with mojo sauce on the side,
breaded potatoes, empanadas, plantain chips and the tamal cubano from the first
time. The entrees consisted of cutlets with grilled onions, skirt steak with
chimichurri sauce, marinated chicken topped with red and green peppers, onions
and a brown sauce, the always-popular arroz con pollo served with beans, and
the fricasé de pollo she’d had the last time. There was caramel flan for
dessert, along with rice pudding sprinkled with cinnamon, white cake covered
with whipped cream, and finally guavas and cream cheese.

She stared, not knowing where to start. “Is my recovery
going to last for days?”

“We missed lunch.” He headed for the fridge. “This is to
make up for that and take us into dinner.”

Clear into tomorrow from the looks of the spread. “Fine with
me.” She toed off her huaraches and unzipped her jeans.

By the time Tor returned with two beers and a can of Mountain
Dew, Marnie was naked below the waist and working on her top. “Hope one of
those beers is for me. Can you help me with my top so I don’t screw up my
bandages?”

He put their drinks on the table. “What are you doing?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

He eased her blouse off, draping the garment over the back
of his chair. “I meant, why?”

“After we eat, I want to be ready for bed. Don’t you?”

“You have a point.”

He undressed quickly, dropping his things on top of her bra,
panties and jeans. “What did you have in mind for bed? And don’t give me
‘you’ll see’. That’s my line.”

“Since when?”

“Please?” he asked, pulling out a chair for her.

Marnie licked his tat and checked the hickey she’d given him
Sunday. A trifle faded. Today, she’d have to mark him again. She sank into her
chair. “If you insist, I—”

Tor’s cell phone rang, interrupting her.

“You what?” he asked.

The phone rang again.

“Shouldn’t you get the call?” she asked. “Might be
important. Could be someone from work.”

“I’m off today.”

“What about your family? They don’t call when you’re off?”

“Better not be them.” He grabbed his phone from his jeans
pocket and looked at the display. “No way am I answering this.”

Marnie craned her neck to see what he did. “Why?”

“The caller blocked the number. Probably selling something.”
He tossed the phone back on the pile of clothes. “Back to us.” Tor leaned down
to her, their mouths no more than an inch away. “What did you have in mind for
bed?”

Marnie smiled. “Bondage.”

Desire flooded his face. “Oh yeah? Kink, like I said?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Tor laughed. “Baby, bondage is kink.”

“Not like you’re thinking. I want to tie you up first.”

Marnie’s expectant look registered with Tor before her words
actually had. Once he realized what she’d said…
Wow.
She kept surprising
him.

“Ah…”

“You don’t want to,” she said, searching his face.

“No. I mean, I didn’t expect—” His thoughts were whizzing so
fast, Tor was having trouble keeping up with them. He pictured being tied up.
Marnie crawling all over him, having her way, loving him good with her hands,
mouth, cunt, his freedom restricted but not his passion. Heat billowed through
him. “Hell yeah, why not?”

“You’re sure?”

His cock couldn’t have been more sold on the idea. The
moment Marnie had started to strip, his rod had been on the rise and was
showing off now. Thickening even more. Flushing with lust. “Uh-huh.”

To prove he meant what he’d said, Tor took her hand, placing
her soft palm on his shaft and nuts.

Marnie stroked both, making him shudder with need.

“We better eat fast,” she said.

“You still hungry?”

“Not for food.”

“Let’s go.” He grabbed Marnie’s hand and pulled her down the
hall.

“Wait.” She held back. “I have an idea.”

Another one? Fuck, she was a well of inspiration today.
“What?”

“We can screw around and eat at the same time—or at least I
can.” Marnie pulled him back into the kitchen. “Grab the desserts.” She headed
for the drawer with the utensils and pulled out two spoons—one silver and small
and the wooden one big enough to cook with. “These should do.”

Uh-huh. Tor had the Styrofoam dessert containers cradled
against his chest. “You’re going to eat this stuff off me?”

Marnie wiggled her eyebrows. “That’s the plan. But only
after I have you tied up real good.” She tapped the wooden spoon against her
chin. “Wouldn’t want you trying to take any of my sweets.”

Tor laughed. “God forbid.”

She went to him, her smile gone, expression intent. “You’re
sure you’re okay with this?”

He sensed another question behind the one she’d asked—if he
was comfortable enough with his masculinity to let a woman take the lead. Tor
couldn’t blame Marnie for her doubt, given the father she’d had. A guy who was
obviously insecure as hell and felt the need to be macho all the time to prove
his worth.

“Oh baby, bring it on.”

Excitement radiated from her. “I will.”

“Be careful with your arm. No heroics. If I don’t come
within an hour or two, you rest. I insist.”

Laughing, she hurried down the hall with him bringing up the
rear. Like the last time, she turned on the overhead light. Tor put the dessert
on the edge of the bed. He had one knee on the mattress, ready to hop on, when
Marnie grabbed his arm.

“Where are your ties?” she asked.

He only had one for christenings, First Communions,
graduations and other family celebrations. “I’m not sure. Last time I wore the
thing was in March at a second cousin’s confirmation. Has to be somewhere in
here.” He turned to the nightstand then the closet. “Maybe in my pants pocket?
Where you going?”

She stopped in the doorway. “To get my bra and your tank
top. They should work fine.”

“Got you covered.” He opened the top drawer of the
nightstand.

“You have bras in there?” she asked.

Tor leveled his gaze on her then pulled out two clean tank
tops, one in white, the other in navy, both smelling of fabric softener. “You
need some for my feet too?”

Marnie regarded the base of the bed. “No footboard. I’ll
have to sit on your thighs to keep you down.”

“Or screw me until I can’t move.”

“There’s a thought.” She put out her hand for his tops and
inclined her head to the mattress. “Hop on. Arms above your head, legs spread
widely, showing me your stuff.”

Tor flexed his cock. The crown bobbed merrily. “Like this?”

“We should record what we’re doing. I’ll get your
smartphone. Be right back.”

“Whoa.” Tor grabbed her un-inked arm. “I’m not shy, mind
you, but we can do the photo session later, okay?”

“It’s a date. On the bed.”

As he got in the position she wanted, with his hands
reaching toward the headboard posts, she kept flipping the end of his top over
itself, turning the garment into what resembled a rope. Finished, she held the
thing between her hands. “Not gonna be long enough. I’ll have to use two on
each side. May I?” Marnie gestured to his nightstand.

She was asking permission to raid his wardrobe when she was
going to tie him up, slather him with food, eat the stuff off him, and
hopefully fuck him raw? Tor suppressed a smile. “Of course. Just push the bras
aside to get to my stuff.”

Her laughter filled the room, sounding like the beginning of
love to him. If he were lucky.

Tor knew Marnie was afraid to commit too deeply, with good
reason. If he’d been through what she had, emotional intimacy would have scared
the crap out of him. Hell, he’d had close to an ideal childhood and the thought
of “forever after” had always given him pause.

Until now. He’d fallen into deep lust and like with her from
the beginning and was careening toward something more even though he suspected
she wanted their relationship to remain mostly physical. At least for the time
being. Hopefully not forever.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” she said.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“For a sec, you looked as though you were in a pain.” She
glanced at his shaft resting on his belly, the crown directed at his other
head. “If your cock could speak, the poor thing would be bitching like crazy by
now.”

He laughed.

Marnie worked like a demon to get her makeshift restraints
just right. “Done.” She secured his right wrist.

Bad boy that he was, Tor lifted his head to lick her boob.

She gave him a scolding look. “Did I say you could move?”

“Your nipple did. I clearly heard it say, ‘Lick me, lick
me.’”

She laughed at how he’d spoken in falsetto.

When she crawled over him to the other side, Tor stuck out
his tongue, trying to taste any part of her he could.

Damn.
She was out of reach, gleefully securing his
left wrist.

Finished, Marnie pulled on the knot as she had the other.
“No way you’re getting loose.” She rolled off the bed.

“Where you going?” he asked for the second time.

“Nowhere.” With her hands pressed against the top of her
chest, she moved from one side of the bed to the other, studying him closely.
“You’re gorgeous.”

Tor wasn’t certain whether to puff up or groan with her
choice of word.

“When did this happen?” She stroked the sizeable scar at the
bottom of his left knee.

“I was eight. Fell off Dante’s bike after he yanked me off
the thing.”

She frowned. “How could he?”

“Easily. He was the oldest and bigger than I was at the
time. In those days, Dante was a real prick. Didn’t like to share anything.”

“No, I meant, how could he do anything like that? Without
the scar, you’d be perfect. Wait.” Marnie waved her hands in front of herself
as though to erase her words. “You
are
perfect.” She stroked the uneven
skin. “This makes you even more beautiful.”

He smiled weakly, hoping she’d never say stuff like that
about him in front of other guys, especially his brothers. Tor wasn’t hung up
on his image but he wasn’t a masochist who wanted anyone to mock him until the
end of time. He flexed his hips and cock. “You’re missing the best part.”

“As if.” Smiling, she lifted the lids on the boxes. “What do
you like best—caramel, cream cheese, or whipped cream?”

“You choose, since you’re going to be the one eating.”

Marnie ran her fingers up the inside of his calf and thigh,
pulling a lusty moan from him. “You’ll get your chance later.”

He’d better. “Leave me some of the caramel and whipped
cream.”

“You got it.” She scraped a fingerful of the caramel from
the flan and smoothed the sugary treat over his balls.

Every muscle in his body tensed at the potent sensations
rocketing through him. He stretched his legs and curled his toes.

“Don’t move,” she said, collecting more caramel on her
finger. “I might miss a spot.”

She smoothed the stuff on the crown, paying particular attention
to the skin at the back. He growled. One more stroke and he’d wail his torment.
Tor reached out to stop her, forgetting his bound wrists. His hands snapped
back, hitting the headboard.

Shit.

“Hey.” Marnie crawled up his body to check his fingers. “Are
you all right?”

Of course he wasn’t. Her boobs hung over his head like ripe
fruit his tongue couldn’t reach. She was driving him nuts and Tor was loving
every second. “No. You’re neglecting my cock.”

“Only because you hurt your fingers. I told you not to
move.”

“Fuck me into a coma then see how well I behave.”

Marnie kissed his forehead. “Soon. You’re not done yet.”

She smeared whipped cream over the pelt above his rod, put a
glob of the stuff on each nipple, filled his navel with cream cheese, and spread
caramel over his lips.

Leaning back, Marnie took in his full length, her grin wide
with satisfaction. “Wish I had a damn camcorder.” She shrugged and left the
bed. “Your smartphone will have to do.”

“Whoa, no. Come back here.”

Marnie stopped in the middle of the room, her sumptuous ass
facing him. She looked over her shoulder. “If I don’t?”

Her expression couldn’t have been more playful or seductive.
“You need a good spanking, woman.”

She turned to face him, eyes bright. “Only with you.”

His heart skipped a beat then raced. If he’d needed proof
Marnie trusted him, she’d just provided the evidence. Tor smiled softly. “Come
here.”

“Why?”

Because he couldn’t stand having her so far from him and
didn’t want to think about the moment she’d leave to return to her place. Given
how well they got on, Tor shouldn’t have had to ponder if she’d be back. Yet he
did, wondering if Marnie would beg off because their relationship was getting
even more intense with both of them hooked from the get-go.

Not yet ready to say what was in his heart, Tor lifted his
hips as well as he could. “Dinner is served.”

Yearning softened her expression. “I am hungry.”

“Have at it…or rather,
me
.”

To his surprise, she started with his mouth, licking his
lips, slipping her tongue inside to give him a taste of the caramel.

Tor liked her flavor better.

They kissed gently at first, a searching tour of mouths,
lips, tongues. She stroked his bristly cheeks as they made out. Forgetting his
bound wrists again, he tried to touch her too. His restraints wouldn’t let him,
jerking his hands back, whacking his knuckles even harder than the first time.

Marie pulled her mouth free to kiss his battered fingers but
didn’t untie him. Tor figured she was having too much fun, the same as he was.

He let out a rumbling growl at her kissing his neck. The
feelings she generated made him fevered, craving more. She suckled the same
spot she had the last time, no doubt refreshing his hickey. He’d have to thank
her later. For now, Tor pulled in as much air as he could as Marnie scooted
down his body, her pussy on his hipbone, lips on his nipple.

While tonguing the whipped cream away, she made a sound as
though she’d found the taste delightful and stroked the hair in his pit.

He squirmed. “Tickles.”

“Feels good,” she said, her lips glancing over his skin.
“Don’t make me stop. Please.”

And ruin her party? Never. “Go on. I’ll be brave.”

Her throaty laugh rippled over him, making his cock even
stiffer, the head nestled against her thigh. Marnie tugged the hair in his pit
as she tongued his other nipple, moving beyond the flat disc to lick a good
part of his pec. Either to get all the whipped cream or because she liked the
feel of his tat beneath her tongue.

Her reason hardly mattered. She’d moved lower again to lick
the cream cheese in his navel, grunting in what sounded like appreciation. When
she’d eaten the glob and patted his side as though to tell him she was done
with this part of him, he smiled.

The thatch of hair above his groin came next. Marnie seemed
uncertain whether to lap away the whipped cream or smell him. She did both.
After cleaning a spot, she rubbed her nose against the area.

Tor’s heart opened to her even more.

Although he was no stranger to a woman’s desires or their
pressing needs when they let loose, Marnie was special. She treated his body
with honor, not as a means to an end, and seemed unable to get enough, no
different from him concerning everything about her.

She settled her mouth on his cock. He writhed at her licking
caramel off his shaft, heading for the crown. Once she’d reached her goal, she
stopped and breathed hard.

Given how his chest was pumping away, he was having even
more difficulty than she was in catching a full breath. “What’s wrong? Why’d
you stop?”

“This isn’t fair.”

Huh? “Sure it is. I like what you’re doing. Even being tied
up.”

Marnie looked over her shoulder. “I’m being selfish.”

Tor frowned. “How?”

“I’ll make things better.”

He was ready to argue but didn’t. She’d already turned her
back to him and straddled his body. After a little maneuvering, she had her
mouth above his cock, her pussy positioned directly over his lips.

“Better?” she asked.

Fuck yeah. “You’re a damn genius.”

“I’m still hungry. How about you?”

Tor’s mouth fell open on a loud moan as she licked his nuts
clean, the heat and rasp of her tongue making him dopey with too many
sensations, each one astonishing. He had to take a few seconds to collect
himself before he was able to suckle the inside of her thigh.

She wiggled but didn’t move away. As though Marnie knew what
he wanted most, she lowered her pussy even more, giving him easy access.