With a resigned sigh, he lies down on the bed, which Archie takes as his cue to depart. While I was gone, Gideon removed his socks. All he’s wearing are his pants, which are now covered in cat fur. I make a mental note to use a lint roller on them before he leaves.
Kneeling on the mattress beside him, I drag the fluffy ends of the feather along his abdomen, wishing it was my mouth trailing kisses over his flushed skin. I roll the rod between my fingers, making the feather swish side to side as I trace the lines and contours of his muscles. I’m so focused on the enticing vee at his hips that it takes me longer than it should to realize he’s practically shaking from the effort of holding still. His fists are white-knuckled where they grip the quilt, and when I look at his face, his lips are pressed into a stoic line.
“Forget it.” I toss the feather aside. “I think we should just fuck.”
The words are barely out of my mouth before he pins me to the bed and kisses me senseless. His ardor ignites my own, and I grapple with the fastenings on his pants. We’re both onedge, maybe from the tickling, maybe from the unexpectedly pleasant evening. That could just be me. Either way, we tear the rest of each other’s clothes off, and before I know it, he’s got my knees pushed up and his face between my thighs. He mutters something about paying down his debt, but I’m gasping too much to respond.
When I’m boneless and quivering from a mind-blowing orgasm, he moves up to curl around my side. Hooking his elbow under my knee, he splays me open and slides into me in one continuous thrust. The penetration pulls a long groan from my throat that somehow ends with his name. He murmurs something unintelligible into my neck and then he sets a pace that makes it impossible for me to think. At some point, he grabs the feather and trails it down my torso, a move that causes me to buck my hips wildly and clench my inner walls. He grits out, “Fucking worth it,” and slams into me harder.
He hits the right spot, over and over, and I climax again. After a few more hard pumps, he pulls out, jerking his cock and groaning until he comes on my pussy in a warm splash.
His head drops onto my chest and neither of us moves for a full minute. I’m achingly aware of his heart hammering against my ribs as aftershocks zing through me.
Gideon is scary good at this. How the fuck am I supposed to get through ten more days?
Finally, he moves, but not to get up. Instead, he drags the feather between my legs, soaking the silky plume with our combined juices. Then he lifts it up to show it to me.
It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.
And I very much need to bring us back to earth.
“Okay,” I say, struggling to find my voice. “On a scale of one to five: tickling.”
He huffs out a breathless laugh that stirs my hair. “The actual tickling part? One-point-five.Maybetwo. The way we absolutely ruined that feather?” He tilts his head to send me an indulgent look. “Five stars.”
That look does something to me, so I grab a clip from the nightstand and focus on twisting my hair up into a bun. “I’d have to say the same about tickling. I nearly peed myself.”
His tone is amused. “And we don’t even have that on our list.”
“Yeah, that’s not changing. My adventurous side has its limits.”
Like butt plugs,I think, and a new shiver of anticipation runs up my spine.
“And the Christmas activity?” I ask, changing the subject. “Scale of one to five: tree decorating.”
He’s quiet for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “Five stars,” he says softly, and doesn’t offer any more commentary.
Finally, I say, “Me too,” and shift to get off the bed.
We take turns cleaning up in the bathroom, and while Gideon’s in there, I use the lint roller on his pants. As Gideon is putting on his shoes, Archie trots out of the hall closet as if he also wants to say goodbye. I pick up my cat to keep my hands occupied. Otherwise, I might rip Gideon’s fancy coat right back off him. My pulse races at the thought, but I only offer a friendly smile when he steps closer.
“See you tomorrow?” I say it like a question, giving him an out in case he doesn’t want to continue this thing we’ve started. But all he does is nod and scratch Archie under the chin.
“Tomorrow.” And then, with a mischievous grin, Gideon tickles my neck. I’m giggling when he says, “Good night, Valencia,” and opens the door.
I whisper back, “Good night, Gideon,” and close it behind him.
I take a deep breath, and my whole body goes hot as I visualize tomorrow’s activity.
Nipple clamps.
Chapter 9
Valencia
Day 3: Nipple Clamps & Ice-Skating
Throughout my childhood, I went ice-skating with my parents every December, often right here at the historic Wollman Rink in Central Park. So I’d consider myself a competent skater. At the very least, I can circle a rink without falling.
