Page 142 of Season of Seduction

In a perfect world, she’d be on his lap, naked but for the collar around her neck and the plug in her ass. But he’d take what he could get, considering he never imagined he’d have even this much with Rebeccah. Every minute was an unexpected gift.

He continued to feed her, ignoring his own meal, nuzzling her neck, stroking her back and touching her how he’d always wanted to while she ate, until her food was gone.

“Aren’t you eating?” she asked, shifting on his lap, bringing her hip into contact with his harder-than-stone erection.

“The stew was delicious.” He ran a fingertip along her jaw line. “But what I’m truly hungry for isn’t on the menu tonight.”

She watched him with those wide, solemn eyes of hers. “Are you so sure about that?”

Chapter Four

Hardest damn words she’d ever uttered, even harder than the words I want a divorce.

She wasn’t stupid. Even through her jeans she could feel his erection against her thigh. It had grown as he’d fed her each bite of food, as he’d tormented her with his incredibly gentle yet sensual touches.

The words had been hard to get out, but they hadn’t been spoken lightly. She knew what she was offering.

Me, on a silver platter.

His bold words about what he wanted in a woman hadn’t shocked her, they’d set her on fire. Some of them were scary. She’d never considered caning or flogging, but being tied up and blindfolded? Yes, please.

She wanted it, wanted to know what the fuss was about. One night when Sam had been in a good mood, she’d asked him what he’d thought about it. After all, they were married and it would be fun, right?

Wrong. He’d gone coldly furious.

“Easy, kitten.” Jeremy grabbed her wrist and held it fast, stroking his thumb over her thudding pulse.

She froze. “Oh, God,” she muttered, realizing she’d been furiously rubbing the cheek Sam had struck. It was obvious Jeremy understood the significance of it, and her stomach soured. “I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be, but I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I was teasing earlier. We have no schedule here, nothing that says we have to do anything more than have dinner and talk.”

“Let me up, please,” she muttered, and he released her immediately. She picked up his dishes and hers and rinsed them, then put them in the dishwasher. She put the leftover stew in the fridge, and then set the crock in the sink to soak. Through it all, Jeremy remained quiet, though she could feel him watching her. Finally, she turned to him and blurted out the words she’d been trying to get organized in her brain. “I don’t know if I’ll like the things you talk about, but I think I know what I want. I like the idea of them, but I don’t know about the reality. Does that make sense, or is it as confusing to you as it is to me?” When he didn’t respond, she dropped her face into her hands. “Gah. I sound like an idiot.”

He was on his feet in a flash. “You don’t. You sound like a woman who’s never been given the opportunity to try the different things that turn her on.” He pried her hands away from her face. “Am I right?”

She locked gazes with him and was stunned by the acceptance she saw. She nodded.

“His loss, and that’s all I’m saying on that subject for now. I’ll be honest with you, kitten. I’ve never been in a real relationship where the woman wasn’t already part of this lifestyle and aware of her own part in it. I’m not sure how this will work out for us. I don’t have a crystal ball and I don’t know all the answers. But I do know that for the last five years, no woman I’ve dated has been you. So if you want to take a chance with me, want to try out those things that turn you on, I’m not going to turn you down.”

Her throat constricted. This was what her husband should’ve given her, but hadn’t. It wasn’t her problem, and it never had been. She knew that now, after several sessions of talking with a therapist. It was his problem and, as Jeremy had said earlier, it was also his loss. “Thank you,” she whispered, forcing the words past her tight throat.

“I want you, kitten. It’s crazy how someone I’ve known for a grand total of ten work days could twist me up like this, turn me inside out.” He smiled sweetly, his eyes warm with the sincerity of his statement. “I want you, but I’ll take the gift of your company tonight. We can do whatever you want to do.”

Her heart pounded triple-time as she considered his words. Could she do it? Could she tell him what she’d thought about, all those nights she lay in bed alone in the guest room instead of her wedding bed because her husband thought she was unclean? Could she tell him he was the one she’d fantasized about then, imagined him smiling down at her as she knelt before him, her mouth open wide? “I want...”

The words wouldn’t come. She let out a frustrated growl and wrenched herself out of his grip, fleeing to the living room. She dropped to her knees in front of the fireplace and picked up the matches, but her hands shook as she tried to start a fire.

She didn’t hear Jeremy come up behind her since he was in his socks, but she felt his presence, large and comforting, even though he was part of her confused frustration. He squatted beside her and took the matches from her. “I promise you, whatever you tell me, I’m going to be fine with it. Do your worst, kitten.” With a flick of his wrist, he lit the match and cupped it in his capable hands, leaning in to set it against the kindling she’d placed there earlier.

She stayed on her knees, her whole body trembling. She wasn’t scared, exactly. Worried he’d be offended, even though he said otherwise. And even though she knew, in her heart and in her mind, that this small piece of what she wanted was a normal part of many, many relationships, she feared he’d find her desires appalling. She swallowed hard and made a decision.

Once the fire was going, he moved to stand in front of her reading chair. He held out his hand as if to draw her to her feet, but she shook her head. “No.” She looked up at him, swallowing the fear back. “I like it here, on my knees. I don’t know why, but I do.”

“I like that too.” His eyes flashed hot, hotter than the fire blazing beside him. He dropped to the chair and leaned forward, his knees splayed wide, his hands hanging loosely between them.

Which did nothing to hide the blatant arousal behind the zipper of his jeans.

He groaned, and she tore her eyes away, looking up into his face. His cheeks were flushed. “You’re killing me here, sweetheart.”

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