CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The fur throw was warm against Sophie’s naked back as she reclined, and the softness of the mattress beckoned her in. What a blissful bed. Even in her heightened state of sexual anticipation, Sophie couldn’t help but notice its cocoon-like warmth and comfort, in direct contrast to the dangerous man stretched out on his side next to her, holding a blindfold in his hand.

His body was close enough to touch along the length of hers from shoulder to knee, his erection heavy on her hip. If he chose to move he could be inside her within a second, and the thought set a pulse throbbing between her legs.

He trailed the silk blindfold over her skin. Across her breasts, over her stomach, hipbone to hipbone. Sophie sighed, relaxed by the whisper tease of the silk’s caress.

“You remember what we said about this blindfold, Sophie?”

Lucien stroked the black silk lightly between her legs, and she opened her thighs a little. The feel of his hand hovering but not quite touching her made her breath catch in her throat.

Sophie closed her eyes for a moment, and then nodded and lifted her head. Lucien reacted immediately, placing the blindfold across her eyes and knotting it carefully in place.

When she opened her eyes and saw only darkness, for a moment panic threatened to engulf her. “Lucien?” She spoke his name out loud, and his finger touched against her lips to calm her.

“Sshh.” His lips brushed hers. “Your eyes will adjust to the darkness.”

Sophie drew in a shuddering breath and found he was right.

“Do I need a safe word?” she breathed anxiously, drawing something suspiciously like a laugh from Lucien.

“No, really, you don’t. If you want me to stop, just say stop. But for the record… you won’t.”

He was too confident. His finger stayed at her lips, tracing them gently, and she opened her mouth and nipped him. He took her jaw between his fingers and held it hard.

“Don’t bite me,” he murmured warningly, and his hand strayed lower to encircle her throat. Sophie sucked in a breath then exhaled as she felt him lean across her body towards the bedside table. Lord, he was warm and heavy. She could hear a drawer scraping open. Was he reaching for a condom already? And then he was back beside her again and placing something unexpected in her hands.

Sophie frowned behind the blindfold as her tentative fingers learned the outline of the two slender, smooth leather circles he’d given her. They were linked by a short, cool metal chain. Cuffs.

“Lucien… I’m not sure about…” she whispered, but even to her own ears, her protests sounded hollow. The weight of the cuffs in her hands brought back memories of how he’d clamped her arms behind her back in the club, and she couldn’t deny the fact that she’d got off on the sensation. Her fingers traced the body-warm leather, discovering the cool metal stud on each bracelet that she guessed must adjust their size to fit.

“Put your arms above your head,” Lucien ordered softly.

Sophie trembled inside, but willingly offered up her hands.

The first leather circle slipped over one of her wrists and Lucien’s careful fingers adjusted it so she couldn’t wriggle her hand free. Anxiety prickled through Sophie’s mind as she heard the chain rattle against metal, then Lucien’s fingers enclosed her other wrist. She pulled back a little, feeling the effect of the restraint.

“Trust me.” He murmured, and brushed his mouth over hers before returning his attention to securing the second cuff.

“There.” He finished his work. “Now test them. Make sure your hands don’t slide out.”

His words came out as a dark, delicious order, and Sophie wriggled her wrists. Not only could she not get the cuffs off, but Lucien had passed the chain behind the metal fretwork of the bed, locking her arms in place. Captured, she gasped and arched her back, feeling the combined thrill and shock of constraint.

Lucien's low laugh rumbled in her ear. “I’ll take that as a yes, shall I? Try to relax.”

Sophie wished she could. She knew her breasts must be jutting crudely upwards, but the restraints turned her on so much that she couldn’t soften her spine.

She really wished she could see him. The double whammy of the loss of free movement and vision left her defenseless, and her body thrummed with erotic anticipation. Lucien was unpredictable at the best of times. With the deprivation of two of her senses, she upgraded him to downright lethal.

Endless silent seconds stretched out without him touching her, and Sophie spun round a wheel of emotions… lust… fear… anxiety… back to delicious lust again. Her body screamed for his touch, and with every moment he made her wait, her nerves tightened to snapping point.

And then came her reward. His warm, wet mouth fastened over one rock hard nipple as he traced an ice-cube around the other. She gasped out loud and arched forward even further, greedy for more. He sucked harder on her nipple until she felt it elongate in his mouth, while his fingers circled her other nipple with the ice cube. His mouth was hot. His fingers were icy. She squirmed, but the leather cuffs held her wrists firmly in place. Sophie jangled the chain against the metal bed like an unwilling prisoner, getting a sensual thrill from the rattle and the feeling of entrapment. She felt chained, totally at his mercy, and the submissive in her revelled in it. She wanted this man to do whatever he saw fit, to touch her everywhere, to possess her body in any way he wanted to.

An ice cube slid into her navel, making her suck in air sharply.

“Be still,” he said, the first time he’d spoken since he’d cuffed her. “Let it melt.” His hands were on her breasts, warming where she was chilled, cupping her fullness, massaging her as his tongue slid into her mouth.

The ice cube started to melt against the heat of her skin and tiny rivulets of freezing water trickled around her waist. She tried to flex her body against the ticklish drips, but Lucien moved his knee to cover her legs and hold her down.

“Be. Still.”

Sophie found that she wanted to know what would happen if she disobeyed him.

She breathed out hard, forcing her stomach muscles upwards in an effort to dislodge the melting cube.

“Sophie…” he warned, low and sultry.

A salacious thrill unfurled in her belly. He’d warned her twice.

She had no clue how to play this game. Should she obey, or should she stray from compliance? What were the rules here? Dan had never lashed her to the bed and ordered her not to move while he melted ice in her belly button: this was all uncharted territory for her. The impulse to be naughty won out. She pursed her lips and flicked her hips. The ice cube flipped off her body, and she waited with bated breath.