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She hesitates, then slowly pivots to face me. The light from the fire reflects off of her features. I look her up and down, then slowly shrug out of my bathrobe. Her lips part as I place it over the chair next to me. "Stay right there," I murmur as I walk over to the sewing kit. I run my fingers across the different colors of ribbons. Blue? No. Green? Nope… A warm, golden yellow that reflects the fire in her eyes? Yes. I pick it up then walk over to her.
I walk slowly around her, taking in her curves—the thrust of her breasts, the curve of her belly, the lushness of her hips, the slope of her inner thighs leading to the slice of paradise that I’ve found between her legs. She wriggles her feet and brings one arm to cover her chest; she places the other hand across the space between her thighs.
"Don’t." I frown. "Don’t hide."
"Easy for you to say, you’re not the one being ogled at."
"Feel free to ogle me right back." I raise my arms wide, and her gaze skitters down my chest. Her pupils dilate, then she glances away.
"Uh, it's not the same thing." She shifts her weight from foot to foot.
"That's true." I drum my fingers on my thigh. "I’m not the one who needs to be taught patience."
"Patience?" She chuckles. "And you? Now I’ve heard everything."
"You don’t believe me?"
"Nope." She firms her lips. "If you had been patient, you wouldn’t have rushed into declaring our upcoming fake wedding to your entire family."
"If I hadn’t been patient, I would have taken your ass, and the other holes in your body, at the same time, by now."
She flushes. "No need to be so filthy."
"Oh, I’m just getting started." I frown. "Speaking of, I don’t recall giving you permission to speak."
She scowls. "Surely, you don’t expect me to stay silent after everything that has happened."
"All that happened was me being nice to you."
"That was you being nice to me?" She opens and shuts her mouth. "Gesù Cristo, you really have a way with jokes, don’t you?"
I pause behind he. "I never joke, Flower." I shake out the ribbon, and it makes a faint swishing sound.
She shudders. "Wh-what are you going to use that for?"
"You trust me, don’t you?"
"Umm... Now that you mention it,” she swallows, "I … I’m not so sure."
"Do you want me to stop? Just say the word."
She tips up her chin. and stares straight ahead. The silence stretches a beat, another, broken only by the crackling of the wood in the fireplace.
Then she nods. Thank fuck!
Something hot stabs at my chest. Something that seems curiously like gratitude. Shit, am I actually being thankful for the fact that she chose to agree to go through with what I have in store for her? Does she even know how much power she holds over me right now? If she had said no, if she had said that she wasn’t interested in the experience I have in mind for her...
I’d have stepped back, but reluctantly. And I’d only have plotted to find another way to get her to agree. Yep, once I set my sights on something, I want it. No way would I have taken refusal as the final answer. Not that it’s ethical to do so, but fuck that. When it comes to her, there are no holds barred. I’ll do anything to possess her… Marry her… Make her mine…
And then, I’ll let go of her. For why should I have these experiences when he can’t? When my soul twin, the brother who meant to me more than anyone else, the one for whom I’d have given up my life itself but whom I couldn’t save... The one whom I’d let down when he most needed me. When he can’t find his true love, or get married, or have children, why should I?
A ripple runs down my body. I raise my hands and place the ribbon over her eyes. She stiffens, but doesn’t protest when I tie the ends behind her head. My fingers tremble—from suppressed grief? From excitement? Possibly both. But I ignore it. I knot the ribbon, then move around to stand in front of her. "Nod if you feel comfortable with this, Flower."
She slowly jerks her chin.
"Good girl," I murmur as I snatch up another piece of ribbon. Walking behind her, I pull her arms behind her back and tie the ribbon about her wrists.
Goose bumps pop on her skin. Her shoulders shudder. I glance down to find her nipples hard and beaded. She squeezes her thighs together, and I know she’s already aroused. I lower my face and blow gently over her ear; she shivers. I push the hair over one shoulder, and a shudder grips her. I press a kiss to the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, and a moan bleeds from her.
