“Yes,” he growled against my breast, and with my nipple still between his teeth, he clamped down almost viciously.
I let out a hoarse scream as the seams of my body unraveled and the brutal climax overtook me. Releasing me, Sinclair reared up and began to move for himself, pounding into me with short, hard strokes, driving me higher and higher. When he finally groaned and released inside of me, I was heavy and saturated with pleasure, unable even to drop my freed hands from above my head.
He collapsed beside me, his breathing uneven and his dusky skin covered in a sheen of sweat so that he seemed to glow in the soft lamp light. It was late and I felt more liquid than human. My lids weighed ten tons but I so loved to look at Sinclair, especially when he wasn’t aware of it. I noticed the faint stubble lining his sharp jaw and wondered idly if I would have beard burn painted across my sensitive skin. The thought of being branded by him made my recently stated desire stir its sleepy head.
As if sensing my thoughts, he smiled slightly with his eyes closed. “You are insatiable.”
“How did you know what I was thinking?” I laughed.
One lid cracked open, revealing a vivid blue iris sparkling with humor. “I might not know you very well, but I do know your body.” His left hand smoothed over the curve of my hip and I turned on my side to face him. “I know how much I turn you on.”
I blushed but he chuckled and chucked me softly on the chin. “Nothing to be ashamed of. If anything I’m flattered.” His lips twisted as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “I know it isn’t in your nature to be so bold.”
“No,” I agreed, fiddling with the edge of the silky pillowcase. “I wasn’t sure you’d be pleased.”
He raised a brow and indicated towards his satiated organ. “Despite evidence to the contrary.”
I smiled but self-consciousness had reared its ugly head again and it was hard to put it back to bed. Besides, even though I might not know him very well, I knew enough about his dominant predilections to question whether he had truly enjoyed my assertiveness.
“You don’t believe me,” he said and though I wasn’t looking at him, I could feel his frown.
“Well, I know you like to be the one in control,” I murmured.
The sudden silence was thick and electric with tension. I hadn’t expected him to react so strongly to my simple observation and when I looked up at him, he seemed frozen, staring woodenly at the ceiling.
“I didn’t mean to offend,” I said softly but I wasn’t really sorry because what I had said was true.
I remembered Cosima telling me about the world of sex and games, glossing over the finer details but still too knowledgeable to be inexperienced in their arts. She had mentioned domination and submission, the thrill some people got from administering punishment and controlling another’s pleasure. I wasn’t sure how far Sinclair’s kink went, but I was pretty sure he was into some degree of BDSM.
He sighed heavily and dragged his arm across his forehead, almost as if he wanted to shield his eyes from me. “I’m overreacting. I was the one who said there should be no secrets in our bed.”
A little thrill from hearing him call the bed ‘ours’ raced up my spine.
“I…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I used to be involved in the BDSM scene, years ago now but when I met E… When I met my current girlfriend, I gave it up. She wasn’t interested.” He laughed harshly. “In fact, she was repulsed by it.”
Tenderness swelled in my chest and I reached out tentatively to touch his arm. “Most people are afraid of things they don’t understand.”
He turned his head to stare at me, his expression fierce. “You don’t know anything about it.”
“No.” I nodded slowly. “But I’d like to.”
His dark brows shot up but his eyes were stilled guarded. “You don’t know what you are saying.”
It was my turn to sigh. I propped myself up on one arm in order to look down on him.
“I do. We’ve already broken so many rules, yours and mine. If we are going to have a holiday affair, why not live out those fantasies? I can’t say I know much about all of that, but I’m curious.” I looked down at the crumpled bed sheet, suddenly bashful but unwilling to admit it.
“We aren’t talking about squash here, Elle.” He was angry now, his voice smooth and steely. “BDSM isn’t something you can dabble in. You need complete trust and honesty in order to be safe and you hardly know me.”
And shouldn’t trust me, I read in his gaze.
Yes, I thought stubbornly, I can.
“I’m not saying I want you to tie me up and gag me every time we sleep together.” My skin pulsed with hot and cold pin pricks of lust and fear. “I’m not even saying I want to do this for you.” He raised a brow at that but allowed my white lie to go uncontested. “I was shy and miserable with it for so long, declining every indulgence that came my way because I thought I didn’t deserve it.” I tilted my chin and tried to the stop my stomach from quivering with nerves. “This is something that I want, Sinclair, something that I need.”
He stared at me for a long time until my elbow ached from my awkward position and my skin cooled. I watched his implacable expression, searching for the tells I was now so familiar with. Only his eyes gave him away; the intense blue depths were dark with troubled thoughts.
Finally, he spoke but his lips were strangely unmoved so that at first I didn’t know he was talking. “It’s intimate, Elle. For some, there is no turning back.”