He stared into my eyes, their softness contrasting with another tightening of the twine.
I sucked in a breath, moaning gently.
After a beat, he tipped his head to one side, his dark lashes fluttering. “Is tying something you like?”
I swallowed hard. How to explain? “I didn’t know until I saw you with your net. It was such a small thing, really. But ever since, I haven’t stopped thinking about the way it felt—your hands, that knot, and… me. You’re the only one I want this with.”
Maxime nodded slowly before lifting his hand and running his thumb across my breast through my top. Again, my breath caught. He gripped his lip before pushing one strap off my shoulder, letting it fall, exposing me to the hot air. Maxime sealed my fate the moment his mouth touched my skin, teasing my hardened nipple with his tongue before taking it into his mouth.
He still kept the pressure on my wrists, but his lips and the delicious pull low down in my belly were all I could focus on.
My body pulsed under his touch. When he pulled at my binding again, I sucked in a sharp breath, but this time, he stopped. He stepped away, letting go of my wrists before moving behind me again. Then, with a last pull, the twine released, and Maxime let it fall to the carpet.
“What’re you doing?” I breathed, already missing the pressure against my skin, flexing my wrists to bring the feeling back.
“I’m making it better,” he said before kissing the side of my neck and walking away.
“Where are you going?” I whispered.
“Not far.” With a smile lacing through his voice, Maxime moved to his chest of drawers. He opened the top one, pulling out something black. As he returned, he slowly uncoiled the bundle, and I blinked.
“A tie?”
The corners of his lips curved. “Asilktie, Chloe. I’m not a neanderthal. And I don’t want to think of anything harsh against your beautiful skin.” He stopped in front of me. “Now,” he murmured, “Lift your hands.”
With a hard swallow, I did as I was told. Maxime slowly peeled my top up and over my head, leaving me standing in just my knickers. He dragged his gaze over me, brushing the skin of my collarbone with his thumb, like I was some priceless treasure. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. Then, with a look that could melt rock, he moved behind me again.
When he bound my wrists this time, instead of the intense sting of the twine, the tie’s silk slipped against my skin. Even when I moved, it caused me less pain. I smiledto myself. My BDSM era hadn’t lasted long, but I was definitely here for the “beginner” version.
When he’d finished, he kept one hand around my wrists. With the other, he used his calloused fingertips to draw patterns over my skin like he was inking my own tattoos. I didn’t mind the chafe or the gentle scratch against my skin. I’d never dated someone who worked with their hands like he did. But by the time his fingers made it to the curve of my hipbone, I was an absolute mess.
He kept his focus on me the whole time, and whenever I tried to reach for him, he pulled harder on my restraint. The way he touched me was like a slow torture. Then he closed his hand around my buttock and stopped. My mouth ran dry.
“I want to taste you, but I need to ask you one more time. Do you trust me?”
His lips and the heat of his breath were just centimetres from the ache currently consuming my entire existence. With hot fingers of desire curling through my body right now, I’d let him do anything.
I nodded, and he slowly pushed my knickers down, letting them fall to the ground. When he dropped to his knees in front of me, my heart forgot how to beat.
Within a moment, his mouth was at my skin, nudging me open and peppering the inside of my thighs with kisses. His stubble scraped against me, and only when I tried to pull away did I realise the control he had over me. All I wanted to do was reach out and touch him—bring him closer to my heat. But every time I strained against the tie, he held me fast, tugging my hands toward my buttocks. Each pull made me arch, drawing my hips towards his mouth.
I could’ve sworn he was about to tip me backwards onto the bed, so I risked a glance behind to check the distance. No point pulling something in the name of pleasure.
When I did, Maxime’s voice stole my attention as he tightened his tie again. “Chloe. Eyes on me.”
Damn it, his words were deep and dripping with desire, and I did as he told me. Only this time, when I met his gaze, something in his demeanour shifted. It was like hunger had overtaken him. As if I was the only thing in the world, and he existed to please me. To have me.
He pushed my legs apart and brought his mouth to my centre.
The moment his lips met my skin, I had to clamp my teeth onto my lip to stop from crying out. He started off gently, like he was teasing me. But soon, the movement of his tongue against my clit intensified. And holy freaking hell! How was I still breathing—still standing?
I watched him the entire time. Just like he told me to.
I watched as he played with my breast, running his thumb over my nipple before closing his fingers around it. I watched his dark, ink covered skin as it danced over the pale freckles on my stomach, and I watched his eyes when they locked onto mine.
All I wanted to do was reach out and tangle my fingers through his hair.
With his brows pulled tight in concentration, he looked every inch the vengeful sea god I’d painted him as in my fantasies. Just that thought sent an extra scatter of goosebumps over my skin.
