He could tell that Farjika was trying to determine if he were being literal or not.
“I think I should go.” Her skirt flared around her legs as she spun toward the door.
“Without a word to Lorren? That’s hardly courteous behavior,” he scoffed, continuing to stroke the rope that trailed down the woman’s torso. The metal felt cool below the heat of his hand. “Especially after all the trouble he went to for you.”
She stopped in midstride, apparently thinking over what she should do. He’d hit his mark well; she did not wish to appear ungracious or rude, not to the object of her affection.
Frankly, he didn’t mind getting another look at the back of her dress and her hair, which was startlingly similar to the rope on the statue. Farjika would look exquisite bound, and binding would only heighten her awareness of her body. Already he could picture how he would drape the silk rope around her frame using various lengths of crimson cord that would highlight the color of her skin. Deliberately, he would place the knots to give her the greatest pleasure. To have her bound and at his mercy was such a heady prospect, he couldn’t stop thinking of the ways he could pose her. Of course, if he acted on his cravings, Lorren would kill him.
“Lorren will join us shortly.” Errion had carefully arranged the evening so that he would have a chance to be alone with Farjika. He tossed off his drink and set the empty aside. Crossing the parlor, his bare feet silent on the thick carpet, he moved until he was standing right behind her.
Glancing over her shoulder, she drew a short breath. “What are you doing?”
Touching her with only his breath when he hungered to do so much more, he said, “I’m admiring your dress.” Goose bumps washed along the backs of her arms. “Did he slide his finger into you?”
She closed her eyes, her lips parting with shock, but then she asked, “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I’m curious.” Fearing that she might bolt, he placed his hands gently on her shoulders. Not holding her but reminding her that she should stay. “Tell me how good it felt to have him on his knees, worshiping you with his mouth.”
She shook her head in denial, but he could see her nipples straining against the fabric of her bodice. Standing this near, he felt her heat rise, giving off more of her delightful fragrance. Slowly, carefully, he maneuvered her around until she faced the erotic statue while he stood behind her.
“Look at her face.” Lowering his lips to the edge of her ear, he whispered, “Look at the pleasure she derives from submission.” Pressing his cock against the split of her bottom caused her to gasp, but she didn’t move away. “Even bound, she strains to meet his thrust.”
Trailing his hands from her shoulders to the top of her dress, he slid his fingertips along the edge of the fabric that encircled her chest. Involuntarily she arched, pressing her breasts up to meet his touch and forcing her bottom into closer contact with his cock. Her firm softness through the layers of fabric was far more arousing than actual contact could ever be.
Errion took a deep breath to steady himself. “Tell me the truth, Farjika, you’ve never thought about being bound before tonight?”
“No.” Her answer came out swiftly, forcefully and almost defensively.
“But now, it’s all you can think about.”
Her lips parted in automatic denial, but she closed them ever so slowly, her head shaking back and forth, her delicately arched brows lowered in confusion.
“Imagine yourself as that woman.”
Her gaze went instinctively toward the statue.
“Silky rope binds your arms behind your back, putting you at the mercy of the man before you.” He hesitated then decided he would have only one chance to plant the seed, so he forged ahead. He grabbed her wrists before she could react and pulled them behind her back. When she dropped her head, exhaling a long whimpering sigh of surrender, she said more than words ever could.