Wicked Torture (Stark World 3)

"Can I trust you to be good?"

I nod. But honestly, right then, I'd say just about anything.

Then I frown, because I realize I'm not sure what good means. Not in this context.

He chuckles, obviously understanding my confusion. "I wanted to tie you down, but I can't. So I need you to stretch out. Hands above your head. I want you to mimic being bound."

He nods toward the bed, and I climb on, then do as he says.

"Beautiful." He bends over and brushes a light kiss over my lips. "It's important because I want to look at you and know that you're mine. I want you vulnerable, open to me. I want the trust, Kiki."

His fingertips dance over my skin as he speaks, as if his words are only the melody and he's using the connection between my body and his for the harmony.

"I want to look at you and know that I'm the only man with the privilege of seeing you naked and vulnerable. The only man who can touch you. And I want you to give yourself to me, knowing that I will never want another woman. I want your surrender, baby. Basically, I want all of you."

He is still clothed, and the brush of his jeans against my bare hips as he straddles me is wildly erotic. "Tell me, baby," he says, as he bends forward, running his hands up my body and cupping my breasts. "Do you want that, too?"

"Yes. Oh, God, yes."

"Do you want me now?"

"You know I do."

"Are you wet for me?"

I spread my legs, the cool air magnificent against my heated core. "Find out."

He chuckles. "I think I will. And here's the other thing, baby," he says, as he presses his lips to my stomach. He tilts his head up just enough to look at me. "The most important thing. I want to take us both as high as we can go, and if we crash back down to earth, I want to know that we're here to catch each other."

"Noah . . ." His name is like breath on my lips. His words have started me melting, and now his kisses down to my core are about to finish me off.

He brings his hands down, then eases two fingers inside me as his tongue strokes my clit.

I buck, gasping with pleasure. "Noah--oh, yes."

"Do you like that?"

"Can't you tell?" I bring my hands down, wanting my fingers in his hair.

"No," he said. "No touching. This is all on me. There's something I want to give you."

He knows exactly how to tease me. Where to suck. Where to thrust. Where to lave me until I'm on the edge and then pull back to leave me trembling and needy.

He plays me like a fine instrument, and only when my body is perfectly tuned and ready does he finally push me over the edge so that I break apart, crying his name as the world turns inside out and colored sparks fill my vision.

He slides up beside me, holding me as the last tremors spread through my body. Then he releases my wrists and I roll over to face him with a satisfied smile.

"Was that what you wanted to give me? An incredible orgasm?"

"Not exactly."

I don't understand what he means, and I'm even more confused when he gets off the bed and goes to the hotel dresser, then comes back with something hidden in his fist.

"I'm not giving this to you now," he says. "I don't want to rush. But I want to give you the promise of it now."

I frown, still confused. "The promise of what?"

"The world," he says, and opens his hand. "Our world."