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Kell lifts his free hand and brushes his knuckles slowly along my cheek, then tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You don’t have to be.”
“I know.”
He leaves his hand there until I let go of his wrist. Only then does he touch me again.
A few minutes later I’m fully naked on the bed, warm and thoroughly kissed, with the scarf and robe belt lying beside us. Kell picks up the scarf. “Still yes?”
“Yes.”
I lie back against the pillows. He takes my right wrist first, wrapping the scarf around it before threading the other end through the headboard slat just above my shoulder. He checks the fit, ties it, then moves to my left side and does the same with the robe belt.
When he’s finished, my arms angle upward and out, comfortable but unmistakably held. I pull against both ties.
The fabric tightens around my wrists. My shoulders lift slightly off the mattress, but my hands travel only a few inches before the headboard stops them.
For one strange second, my brain rejects what my body already understands. I can’t move my hands where I want them to go. Not unless Kell lets me.
Fear flickers through me, quick and bright, chased almost immediately by a rush of heat. The restraints are no longer theoretical. They hold. And knowing that does something unsettlingly powerful to me.
I try again, harder this time.
Still held.
Kell remains beside me, waiting.
“Green?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He bends and kisses me. The change is immediate.
I can’t wrap my arms around his neck. I can’t pull him closer or decide where his hands should go next. When his mouth moves from mine to my throat, all I can do is feel the slow drag of his lips over my skin and the warmth of his woven hand moving down my side.
My wrists pull against the ties. They hold.
Kell kisses one breast, then the other. His tongue circles my nipple before drawing it into his mouth, and my back lifts from the mattress.
“Kell.”
He raises his head immediately. “Yellow?”
“No.”
“What?”
I tug lightly against the restraints. “I can’t do anything.”
“Right.”
I laugh, a little breathless. “I think that might be the point.”
Amusement flashes across his face. “Do you like it?”
“Ask me later.”
His lips close around my nipple again, and I stop laughing. Kell takes his time going lower. Too much time.
His mouth moves over my stomach while his hands trace the outside of my thighs, and every time I think he’s finally going where I want him, he changes direction. A kiss against one hip. His tongue along the crease where my thigh meets my body. He catches the skin lightly between his lips, then soothes the same spot with his mouth.
