Page 24 of Tinsel & Timber
His jaw flexes. “You have no idea.”
“Then maybe you should show me.”
He sets the mug down with care. Then he steps in closer, until I practically feel his heart beating.
“You really want me to?” he murmurs. His gaze is filled with attraction and hope.
My answer is barely a whisper. “Yes.”
He exhales sharply—then closes the last inch of space between us. His hands frame my face, thumbs brushing my jaw as his mouth meets mine. The kiss is hot and deep, everything restrained from last night breaking loose in one slow surge.
When his hand slides to the back of my neck, guiding me closer, a quiet sound escapes me that makes him groan low in his chest.
His lips move to my jaw, the shell of my ear. “Mara,” he murmurs, “you have no idea how much I want you.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“I need to be sure…need you to be sure…” he says, looking me in the eyes.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Graham,” I confess.
“If we do this…it changes everything.”
“I know.”
He takes a step back and shakes his head. “You don’t. Not really. There’s a piece of me that I’ve been forced to keep buried for a long time, Mara. You test that control. Youmake me want to show youallof me. But before I can do that, I need to know that you trust me.”
I can almost hear my heart beating out of my chest. “What…” I swallow past the knot in my throat. “What do you mean?”
Graham reaches for his messenger bag and opens it. He pulls out a box of condoms and sets them on the counter, then a blindfold and a set of handcuffs. When he looks up at me again, I see the hesitation in his eyes.
“I’m a man with certain…tastes.” He steps back into my space and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear.
I almost laugh. If he thinks a blindfold and handcuffs are going to scare me off, he’s sorely mistaken. “Isthatall you’ve got?” I ask with a brow raised.
I can feel him pressing against me now, every inch magnetic. The heat between us is almost unbearable, the kind that leaves my skin buzzing, my senses alive with electricity. Every brush of his hand, every inhale and exhale he shares, tightens the coil inside me.
“I left the rope at home.”
I blink, trying to figure out if he’s being serious or not.
“I’m not kidding, Mara. If we do this, you’re mine,” he says, leaning in close. “I want to test your limits. Take care of you. Cherish you. In every way that you’ll let me.”
He moves behind me briefly, his warm body close. I feel his fingers slide along my shoulders, tracing, teasing, but never crossing a line he’s carefully drawn. My senses are on fire—the sound of his ragged breath, the subtle scent of him, the warmth radiating from his body.
“So, I’ll ask you again. Do. You. Trust. Me?” His voice is low, controlled, dominant in the gentlest way.
I can’t speak immediately. I only nod. The admission feels dangerous, thrilling, and true.
Graham leans forward, brushing his lips along the side of my neck, not yet fully claiming, but leaving a trail of fire in his wake.
“We’ll go slow. Explore. Learn. You’ll tell me when you need to stop or slow down. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” my voice cracks.
“Kneel for me, Mara.”
I don’t even hesitate to drop to my knees.
