Page 25 of Balthazar's Fire
“Good.” Balthazar had never been happier to hear so, but he wanted to give her the opportunity to halt proceedings if that was what she chose. His slow introduction to compliance, however, alongside her obvious longing to be bound, appeared to be paying dividends. “Watch as I use my tie to tether you.”
Her gaze fell instantly to her wrists, her breath stilling as he went to work, wrapping the silky fabric of his tie around her soft skin.
“See how I limit your liberty by taking control of your limbs,” he explained in the same hypnotic tone he’d employed throughout.
Swathing her delicate wrists and forearms with the fabric, he tucked the end against itself, creating an effective, but albeit not too restrictive, form of bondage.
“Wriggle your fingers for me,” he ordered as he admired his handiwork. Certainly, his tie had never looked half so good around his neck. “Is it too tight for you?”
“No, sir.” Her breath was raspy as she replied. “It feels okay.”
“Perfect,” he answered, lowering to his haunches before her. “Because until such time as either you use your safe word, or I decide to release you, you’re mine, Cherie.”
“Balthazar.” Her pupils dilated as she croaked his name. “Sir.”
“Hmmm?” he answered, reaching for her bound wrists and tugging her toward him. She went without complaint, inching forward on her knees until they were face to face.
“What are you going to do to me?”
“This is a strange time to ask that very important question.” He chuckled at the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.
“Y-yes,” she agreed. “I think in my excitement, I forgot to ask before we started.”
“Look at you,” he enthused, shaking his head with astonishment as he did just that. Holding her wrists above her head, he forced her arms to rise, revealing her delectable breasts. “You’re magnificent.”
Locking gazes with her, Balthazar read the emotions flashing in her exquisite eyes with ease. He’d always been able to tell what most people were thinking. Half overwhelmed with need, and half filled with alarm, Cherie appeared to be trapped somewhere between apprehension and arousal.
“Don’t worry,” he soothed. “I’m just going to play with you, while you enjoy being bound.”
She gulped at Balthazar’s verdict, apparently not as comforted by it as he’d hoped.
“Come on, beautiful.” Tugging her tied wrists, he motioned for her to rise. “Up you get.”
She climbed to her feet on shaky legs, following him closer to the fire.
“Stretch out on the rug.” Balthazar’s gaze traveled to the thick pile of the black throw rug that he referred to. “I’m going to ravish you.”
He steadied her as she lowered to the rug, shrugging off his jacket while she settled on to her back.
“Spread your legs,” he commanded as he threw his jacket to the nearby chair. He couldn’t recall being this eager to get between a woman’s legs for a long time, but then he hadn’t ever wanted to save one before either. Cherie, it seemed, belonged to a truly exclusive club. “I want to taste you.”
“Sir, I…” Cherie started, but her sentence trailed away as Balthazar’s stare met hers.
“Do you want to use your safe word, Cherie?”
“No, sir.” She pulled in a breath, her focus flitting between her fettered arms and his face. Now that she’d finally got the thing she claimed to have wanted, she didn’t seem to know what to do with her bound arms.
“Then there’s nothing more for you to say.” His gaze burned into her, daring her to defy his will. “You’re mine to bind, and mine to devour.”
Kneeling over her, he held her gaze as he slowly unfastened one cuff, and rolled the sleeve up his arm. Completing work on the second sleeve, his attention fell to her trembling body, one finger skimming a line from her calf to her hamstring. She was so wonderful. How had they both lived in and around the same city all this time and yet he’d never noticed her?
“That’s better,” he praised her silence as his fingertip dipped between her thighs and brushed lightly over her dark hair. “Well done.”
He noticed how she held her breath as his finger approached her sex, her eyes squeezing shut as the same finger swept over her other leg, replicating its earlier journey to the back of her knee. A hushed groan left her lips when his finger refused to stay at her pussy, evidence of her disappointment.
“Sir, please.” Pressing her ass into the rug, she arched her back before her hips pushed her sex into the air toward him.
“What’s this?” Balthazar’s eyebrow arched as his concentration settled on her face. Eyes flickering open, her frantic gaze met his. Her hair was strewn over the rug behind her, framing her face in a halo of chocolate brown tresses. “Are you begging me, Cherie?”