A Festive Treat by Serenity Woods

Author:Serenity Woods [Woods, Serenity]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781505443349
Published: 2014-12-29T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

“Wait… What?” Owen went to sit up, forgot his hands were tied, nearly dislocated his shoulder, and fell back onto the pillow with a curse. Skye laughed, and her footsteps echoed as she left the room.

“Shit.” Heart pounding, he crossed his fingers that she hadn’t left the house and run off again. If he called Mozart, would the Lab be clever enough to bite through the scarf? Probably not. He’d just think it was a huge game and lick him to death.

In the kitchen, he could hear Skye moving around, talking to Mozart as she opened drawers and cupboards. If he shuffled up the bed, he’d be able to reach the blindfold and tug it off. Escape!

He hesitated, though, chewing his lip. She’d clearly been enjoying herself. It had been lovely to see the seriousness vanish from her eyes and the beautiful smile reappear on her lips. Not wanting to spoil her fun, he fought with his instinct to free himself and lay back, waiting for her to reappear.

It didn’t come naturally. He felt vulnerable and exposed lying there naked. Adopting a passive role in lovemaking wasn’t normal for him. Usually, he directed the action, organizing the who, how, and when, and he wasn’t used to being done to. What did she have in mind? Hopefully, she’d taken him seriously when he mentioned the no pain instruction. That was a hard limit for him.

“Don’t look so worried.” Her voice held a smile. He hadn’t heard her return, but now the floorboards creaked as she walked across the bedroom and climbed onto the bed. “Seriously, Owen. You’re going to enjoy this.”

He moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. “If you say so.”

Giving a husky laugh, she stretched out beside him. Her perfume reached out to ensnare him, and the heat of her body only an inch from his warmed him right through. “We’re going to play a little game,” she teased. “I want you to try and guess what I’m using to touch you.”

“Okay.” Against his will, he tensed. One hint of a knife blade and she wouldn’t see him for dust.

She chuckled. “Here you go. Ready?”

Something touched the hollow at the base of his throat, then continued slowly down his chest. It felt about an inch wide, soft and yet slightly prickly, not unpleasant as she changed direction over his hips and continued down his thigh.

“It’s a paintbrush,” he said, almost faint with relief.

“That’s right.” She circled his knee. “Open your legs wider.”

He did so, still uneasy at being restrained, but Skye moved the brush leisurely and gently up and down his inner thighs before stroking up his erection and returning to his chest.

He cleared his throat. “I hope you’re not using the one soaked in white spirit.”

“No, Owen. It’s new.” She moved it across his shoulders, up his arms, and tickled the center of his palms. “Are you planning on doing some painting?”

“Yes, in the bathroom.” His voice sounded husky. He was beginning to relax, turned on by her sensual movements.

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