“I don’t care.”

“You know, figuring out the logistics of this should probably be killing the mood but it’s just making me hotter.” She pulled the other end of the tie to the headboard, above my head. I lay down and she tightened it, so that my arm was extended above my head. She grabbed another tie and did something similar with my other arm. By the time she was done with that, she was flushed and breathing fast and I was more than a little turned on myself.

She ran her hand down my arms. “I love your arms. Sometimes I get turned on when you are fully dressed but you have your sleeves rolled up. Your forearms are so sexy.”

I laughed. “My forearms? Really?”

She ran her hand over them appreciatively again, as if admiring artwork or craftsmanship. “I love your body. And your arms are amazing. Strong forearms, your biceps…firm, powerful, but not bulky.”

“You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?” I said, my eyes half closed, utterly relishing the feel of her hot hands on me.

“Oh, I have. I do. Early and often.”

She bent over me, checking the tightness of the knots holding my arms above my head, and her breast grazed against my cheek. On instinct and out of pure lust, I turned and caught her nipple in my mouth, sucking it through the thin silk of her shirt. She let out a loud gasp and froze. I didn’t release my hold and she didn’t pull away. With my tongue, I traced her nipple, sucking more of it into my mouth. It hardened to a tight point.

Panting on top of me, she pulled back and straddled me. Then she bent to kiss me first on my mouth, then my neck, my chest. She ran her hands over every inch of my chest and stomach. “You are so incredibly sexy. It pisses me off when women look at you but how the hell can they help themselves?”

I laughed. “You’re going to give me a big head.”

She snorted, her hand gliding over the towel still knotted around my waist. “I think I already did,” she said, fondling me. I closed my eyes and as if she was reading my mind—she slipped her hand under the towel and grasped me, stroking with her fingers. Electric pleasure crackled down my spine.

I wanted this so badly I could hardly breathe. I opened my eyes and looked up at her. “Kiss me,” I said.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Mia

I undid the towel from his waist, then explored him everywhere with my hands before taking his silky-smooth length in my hand again. Firmly I stroked him, relishing the sound of his hoarse gasps. His eyes tightened again. “Kiss me, Emilia,” he demanded again.

Trust Adam to try to take over even when he was tied up and I was on top of him. I decided to torment him with my hands for a little while longer before finally leaning forward. He pulled his head up and caught my mouth with his, groaning. His tongue plunged into my mouth urgently, moving in and out quickly as if showing me how he wanted to penetrate me in other ways. My body sang in response, completely aroused and ready for him.

And since he was under me and totally at my mercy—and quite obviously ready—there was no time like the present. I scooted down over him so that our hips were even with each other, thinking I’d torment him first with a little rubbing—

He stiffened and pulled his mouth away from mine. “Stop!” he almost shouted.

It startled me so I sat back and looked at him. His eyes were wide. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” he said and took a long breath before letting it go tightly. “We need a condom.”

“Oh…yeah. Shit. Yeah, we do.” We’d never used them before but for obvious reasons that was no longer ever going to be the case. For the rest of my life, I was banned from using any sort of hormonal birth control.

He looked at me, exasperated and a little angry.

“I’m sorry it didn’t even occur to me. That was dumb. I didn’t buy any.”

His mouth thinned. “Under the sink in the bathroom.”

I did not want to know why he had condoms in the house. I’d seen the box there before, when I lived here, and assumed they’d been from his swinging single days. He’d told me he hadn’t been with any other women since before we got together but sometimes the uncertainty of those days when we were apart got to me. Adam had never lied to me and I trusted him. But often it was easy to let my own insecurity whisper doubts into my ear.

I slumped, got off of the bed and went to the cabinet he referred to and saw the box. It was one of those jumbo packs with a hundred or more inside. And it was half empty. Shit.

Don’t think about it, Mia. Don’t think about all the women he’s been with before—about how much prettier and healthier and more experienced they were.