“Then I'm going to tie you to our bed and fuck you with my tongue and cock until you change your mind,” he promised, his dark gaze searing her skin.
“I’m holding you to that.” Images of Swift doing wicked, wicked things to her flashed through her mind. Giddiness bubbled inside her, leaving her feeling wildly excited. It was all very confusing, but she knew one thing for sure. “I’m the one who makes the rules if we do this. I’m the one who decides how he can touch me and where and how far he can go. If he doesn’t like it, he can take it up with the sexual ethics committee.”
Swift seemed taken aback again. “You’re being very matter-of-fact about this.”
“Do you want me to fall to pieces? To wail and scream and be dramatic?”
“No.”
“I’m a practical woman, Swift. I’m approaching this situation the way I’ve done everything else in my life. I’ve looked at my options, and I’ve made my choice.”
“You don’t have to and you can back out at any time,” Swift said, his guilt still evident on his face.
“I know my rights,” she assured him. In fact, she said rather brazenly, “I’d like to exercise those rights now with you.”
Swift’s eyes widened. “You want me to—? Right now? After what I did?”
“Yes. Right now.” She gulped as she felt something wild and erotic unfurl inside her. Lifting her chin, she commanded, “Show me how truly sorry you are about this.”
Chapter Eighteen
Of all the ways Swift had anticipated Alys might react, this wasn’t one of them. When she had run off to their bedroom, he had expected her to emerge with her bag packed and demanding to leave. For her to come out and take control, to give him orders, was wholly unexpected—and outrageously arousing.
His anguish disappeared with her command to show her how sorry he was. Standing there in her modest dress, her hair braided so simply, she looked the epitome of a gentle and sheltered woman. For her to issue the demands of a dominatrix, ordering him to use his body to give her pleasure as an apology, sent a streak of heat right to his groin. He wanted to earn her forgiveness.
“Should I crawl to you?” he asked, fully prepared to do just that.
She let loose a strangled laugh. “No. That’s not—no.”
“Are you sure?”
She gulped. “No.”
That was all he needed to hear. In the next instant, he was on his knees and crawling toward her. She seemed baffled by his movements at first, but as he drew closer, she stepped backward, first one step and then two and then all the way back to their bed. Her breaths had grown shallow and deep, and a flush of pink had arced along her neck to her cheeks and earlobes. She was aroused by the sight of him crawling and likely didn’t understand why.
Later, he promised silently, they would talk this through until she did. But now? Now he wanted to show her just how truly sorry he was for being such a colossal dumbass.
He started slowly, just skimming his mouth along her bare ankle and calf. He ducked under her skirt and followed the curve of her knee and thigh before ghosting over her panties to the other leg, repeating the same motions in reverse. When he emerged from beneath her skirt, he reached up and began to pluck through the long line of buttons down the front of the dress. They were small and dainty little shimmery things, and he took his time with them even though he wanted to tear the dress open and get to the good part.
Alys placed her hands on his shoulders as he worked through the buttons. Her fingers moved toward his neck and then into his hair. She scratched idly at his scalp, setting his skin alight and making him shiver.
When the dress was finally unbuttoned completely, he pushed it off her shoulders and let it puddle around her bare feet. She wore no bra, just as he preferred, and her incredible breasts were right where he wanted them most—in his face.
He reminded himself this was about her pleasure and not his. Her nipples drew taut into dark peaks that begged for his tongue. He dragged his tongue across her nipple, evoking a gasp of joy from her. She gripped his shoulder tightly and clutched at the back of his head as he moved from breast to breast, adding his hands to the mix to squeeze and caress.
But as much as she enjoyed having her breasts kissed and touched, it wasn’t enough to bring her the sort of pleasure she deserved. He dotted kisses across her chest and drew down her panties, helping her step out of them. When she was finally naked, he considered all the different ways to make her come.
First, though, he wanted touch and tease until she was shivering with delight and need. “Get on the bed. Face down.”
Her brow arched, as if to remind him that she was the one making demands tonight. Chagrined, he added, “Please.”
She nodded and climbed onto the bed while he retrieved a bottle of massage oil from the bedside table. She looked so lush and gorgeous spread out for him on their bed. He removed his shoes and socks and belt to make himself more comfortable and then knelt on the bed between her legs.
He warmed the oil between his hands before gliding them along her shoulders and down her spine. Her muscles were tense beneath his fingers, probably because this was new and different. Gradually, she relaxed under his hands.
As he finished with her arms and back and neck, he began to move lower. She giggled shyly as he massaged her buttocks and then moaned as he worked the muscles in her legs. She had incredibly thick thighs and toned calves from years of backbreaking work. He marveled at the feel of them under his hands, at the strength of this woman who had chosen to forgive and stay with him.
Her strength went beyond the physical. She was strong mentally and emotionally, and he was lucky she cared for him. She would have had the pick of any other eligible man if she had left him. There would have been fights over her, bloody, brutal ones.
Making love to her tonight, giving her pleasure, would never be enough to make up for his colossal fuck-up. It would take months of care and affection to rebuild what he had destroyed. He would have to earn back her trust, one kept promise at a time.
With a gentle nudge of her hip, he urged her to roll onto her back. He continued his sensual massage from her feet, paying special attention to her arches and heels. Her eyes were shut, and her arms were thrown overhead as he worked the tight tendons in her feet.
She breathed out a long sigh of pleasure and wiggled her toes. “My feet have never felt this good.”
“I’ll rub your feet every night if you want.”
“Deal,” she replied with a relaxed smile.
He lowered her feet to the bed and added a little more oil to his palms. He stroked up the fronts of her thighs, across her hips and waist. He didn’t let the oil go anywhere near her vulva or vagina. Those areas were so delicate, and he didn’t want to do anything to upset the fragile balance there. He was also careful not to tickle her as he moved up her belly and chest to her shoulders and arms again. He ended with her fingers, massaging each one until all the tension left them.
Finally, he leaned down and sought her mouth in a kiss. It was unhurried and gentle, both of them seeking and taking. He wrapped his legs around her lush body, pulling her into his arms and holding her captive while he plundered her mouth. She made the most erotic sounds as he kissed her and let his hands roam her body. He cupped her plump bottom and nipped at her jaw and neck. “Alys?”