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My cheeks flushed with pleasure at his words, and the rest of my body heated for him too. He hadn’t touched me sexually since I’d been shot, and I’d become steadily needier as the days dragged on.
“I need you, Massimo. Please.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” His features were tight with his own hunger, a desperate longing that matched my own.
“You won’t.” I’d never been surer of anything in my life. “You would never hurt me. I trust you. And right now, I need you to touch me.” I boldly grasped his hand and dragged it toward my sex. “I’m aching for you.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, shocked at my brazen behavior. He pressed his palm against my clit, and I bucked at the first jolt of pleasure after weeks of long denial.
“How can I leave you aching, my sweet girl?” His fingers dipped between my thighs, so that he grasped my pussy in a proprietary hold. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” I moaned, dropping quick, desperate kisses along his jaw until I nipped at the shell of his ear with a ragged whisper. “Please, Massimo.”
He released a low hum that vibrated through my chest and down to my core, making me shudder with mounting desire. “You’ll have to be very good for me, farfallina. But you always are. You love being my good girl, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I agreed again, my voice breathy with lust. “I’m your good girl.”
He growled his satisfaction and grazed his teeth down my throat, tracing the line of my vulnerable artery. I expected a possessive bite on my shoulder, but he pressed a tender kiss there instead, flicking his tongue over my sensitized skin. Every inch of my body came alive for him, sparks dancing along my heated flesh.
I melted into him, overwhelmed by the rush of carnal sensation. It’d been so long since he’d touched me like this that the sudden onslaught of pleasure was intense enough to make my knees weak. It was almost as though I was experiencing his masterful touch for the first time, our chemistry shockingly potent.
He took his time with me, lavishing me with deep kisses as he slowly eased the lightweight white robe from my shoulders, then stripped off my silky nightgown. When I was naked before him, my body trembled with the force of my desire, and I clung to his corded arms for support.
He stepped toward me, never breaking contact as he guided me toward the bed. He settled me down on the center of the mattress, ensuring my comfort.
I loved when he handled me with harsh, primal passion, but this gentle, careful seduction was sweet enough to make my eyes sting even as my body sang for him.
He brushed one more kiss over my forehead and commanded, “Stay.”
I nodded, and he left me briefly to retrieve three lengths of rope from the chest of drawers. My tongue darted out to wet my lips, my body primed for his perverse games. He hadn’t bound me in weeks, and I longed to feel his ropes enfolding me once again, restraining me in a secure embrace.
“I’m going to make sure you stay still and don’t strain yourself,” he told me as he grasped my ankle and wrapped the rope around it.
I considered protesting again and insisting that I was all healed up, but I knew he needed it to be this way between us. He had to feel thoroughly in control because he’d had to watch me bleed in his arms. Massimo was a powerful man, and the sense of helplessness to save me must’ve tormented him.
But he’d taken such good care of me while I healed. I would prove to him how much that meant to me by allowing him to bind me without protest. This seduction would be on his terms, and that was how I liked it too. We were perfectly matched, bonded by mutual need and deviant desires.
“I trust you,” I promised as he wound the rope around my thigh, bending my knee so that my heel touched the back of my leg.
He bound me in that position, wrapping the rope around my shin to secure me in place. He repeated the process on my other leg. When he was satisfied that my legs were thoroughly immobilized, he grasped my waist and lifted me, positioning me so that I was on my knees before him.
The ropes twisted and sank deeper into my flesh, the tight binding biting into me just hard enough to make me keenly aware of my helplessness to resist anything he wanted to do to me. My legs were spread wide, my swollen sex on lewd display. Desire wet my lower lips, my body primed for him.
He wasn’t finished restraining me. The third length of rope encircled my wrists, capturing them so that they pressed together. Once they were securely bound, he tugged on the length, drawing my arms over my head and back down. My elbows bent, and my hands touched my hair at my nape. The position forced my back to arch, offering my breasts to him.
He quickly lashed the rope around my chest, securing my wrists behind my head and trapping me in the vulnerable position.
His full lips tilted in a satisfied smirk, and his eyes darkened with lust. He cupped my breasts, as though he was learning the weight and shape of them all over again. My head dropped back on a low moan, and a warm wave of pleasure rolled through me, emanating from his heated touch.
“Bellissima.” His voice was rough with reverence, and he rubbed his calloused fingers over my peaked nipples.
I cried out at the shock of bliss that sparkled in tingling lines from my hard buds to my clit. It pulsed in time with my heartbeat, and my inner muscles contracted, aching to be filled.
“Please,” I panted. “Please…”
“Say my name when you beg.” The order rumbled through me, drawing a shiver to the surface of my skin.
“Please, Massimo.” My plea left me on a desperate whimper as he continued to toy with my breasts, stimulating me without touching me where I needed it most.
