“Oh, no.” He tsk-tsked and leaned in close again, shifting to the side at the last moment so he could speak right into my ear. The warmth from his breath fanned across my neck and pebbled my skin. “Now, see, I was going to be nice and not blindfold you. But just for that insolent mouth and the daggers you’re shooting me…” Grant surprised me by sinking his teeth into my ear lobe. Really hard. He finally released the abused pad of flesh when I gasped in pain. “You leave me no choice, miss. Cooperate, and your interrogation will go much smoother. Am I making myself clear?”
“Fuck you,” I said brazenly. “How’s that for clear, Detective? Do you need me to spell it out for you?”
“All right, we can do this your way.” He chuckled. “Now, be still while I slip this on.” He fit something over the top of my head and into place, covering my eyes. Instinctively, I reached my hand up to touch what I guessed was similar to a sleep mask. But he stopped my motion with his strong hand. Gripping my wrist, he lowered it back to my lap.
“Let go of me,” I said through clenched teeth, trying to pull my arm free and getting nowhere. Oh, this could be so much fun if we weren’t on a boat. Nothing like a little game of chase to ramp up the libido.
“That’s really too bad, little jailbird,” he growled. “You’re not calling the shots here.” He exhaled a lusty sigh, and I could feel his body weight shift to move behind me on the cushion. “I didn’t want to have to do this,” he continued his assessment. “But you’re definitely a flight risk with all this spunk.”
“A what?” I raised my voice a bit, playacting my indignation.
“A flight risk. A runner. Escapee,” he explained, and I could picture the smug grin on his face, just by the sound of his voice. What he said next snapped me out of my imagination really quick, though.
“I’m going to restrain you. Don’t bother fighting me either, lady. I’m much larger than you. You’ll never win. Now kneel up.”
With a few quick lashes and buckles, leather wrist cuffs were in place and then fastened to each other. The snug stiffness of the animal hide bit into my skin, where the bastard had purposefully secured the shackles too tight. A perverse grin played at the corner of my mouth when I realized that somehow this sexy God of a man even knew I’d like that, too.
An air-whistling slap to my ass reminded me to stay in character. I muttered a choice curse word or two under my breath and threatened Grant, “What was that for? I’m going to report you to the warden. You’ll never get away with this.”
“Bad news, honey. The warden is my brother. He’s a bigger bastard than I am. He has cameras all around this place and watches everything that goes on. No one’s going to save you.”
“You’re lying!” I insisted.
I imagined the man shaking his head while he said, “Afraid not. Now, would you rather have an audience watch me eat your pussy or watch you suck my dick?”
“You’re giving me a choice?” I scoffed.
“Well, I may be an asshole, baby, but I’m still generous when it comes to fucking fine things like you.”
My interrogator stroked a firm hand down my cheek, and I was lost to the rough sensation. When did Grant Twombley do work with his usually manicured hands that he would build up a pad of thick skin on his palms? Or was I that lost between the champagne we drank and the fantasy he was creating with his words and actions that I actually felt what I was imagining?
“Blaze!” His voice was stern when he called my name.
“What?” I snapped but then thought maybe it wasn’t the first time he had said it while I was busy daydreaming. And when had he moved in front of me again?
“Watch the tone. You’re in no position to be sassing off to me, are you?”
“Do you know what’s the best thing about this eye mask?”
“What?”
“You can’t tell if I’m rolling my eyes at you.”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say to the bossy man, because he wrapped his hands under my knees and yanked me until my back was flat on the sunbed. A crazy giggle bubbled up and out of my throat from the surprise movement and left a goofy grin footprint behind where it passed. Dragging my head along the cushion also dislodged the mask so I was able to see my surroundings again.
“You’re insane,” I said through my smile.
“Possibly,” Grant said, but his tone was darker, sounding much more like a threat than my teasing one had. In the span of a breath, I found out why. The pretty sundress I wore became a casualty of his impatience. Instead of unfastening the wrist cuffs and unbuttoning the tiny buttons that made a delicate row through my cleavage, he grabbed the hem and jerked upward, splitting the lightweight cotton in half along the length of my body. I couldn’t even protest the destruction of the garment because he was the one who purchased it.
“No! Definitely!” I squealed and regretted it immediately. In a swift move, he took my bound wrists, hoisted them over my head, and hooked them to a cleat on the boat’s deck.
“Excuse me, prisoner? How did you remove your blindfold?” He crawled up beside my shoulder while he waited for my answer, knelt up tall once there, and began opening the button and fly on his shorts. I was so mesmerized by his hand dipping into the waistband of his boxers, my mouth went dry, making speech to answer him impossible.
Ruthlessly, he slid a hand between the torn halves of my dress to pluck my nipple. With the hard little point squeezed between his two fingers, he warned, “I’m waiting.”
“Graaant,” I moaned. “Feels so good.” He pinched harder and harder in measured increments, and I let my head loll from side to side while the pain washed over me. Finally, I shouted, “Enough! That’s enough.” When I went to move my arms from overhead to protect my abused nipple, it was no use. In my stimulated haze, I had forgotten I was still trussed up.
Mischievous blue eyes awaited mine in the dark night. “Where did your blindfold go, Blaze?” he asked with a playful grin that was so sexy and devilish, he could charm every pair of knickers off an entire room of nuns.
“It’s your fau—Oohh! Shit! Christ, Grant! Oh my God, yes.” I moaned, still trying to catch a full breath from the first nipple pinching when he moved to the other side. We both had dropped the detective and suspect game at that point and were caught up in each other. I realized, probably much too late, how loud my cries of pleasure had been and did my very level best to keep my lips pressed tightly together so another sound couldn’t escape. But when he latched on to the same sore bud with his wet, perfect mouth, it didn’t matter. Angels were surely singing.
The man looked up over the swells of my breasts to check in with me. “How’s that, baby? Feel better now?”
“Grant. Please. Stop teasing.”
“Oh, I’m not teasing. Tell me, and it’s yours. What do you want? More pain? More pleasure? Both?”
A chain reaction began with the look he gave me. It set off every needy, tingling pulse point between my mouth, which I desperately wanted him to kiss again, and my pussy, which was throbbing and gushing between my thighs.
“Kiss me,” I whimpered.
“Kiss you where?” he taunted in response.