Page 60 of The Awakening of Nina Fontaine

“Look at yourself, Nina,” he said. “Look at how magnificent you are. Howpowerful.”

The rope was tied in a complicated configuration of knots and loops that framed her breasts, plump and aroused, her nipples jutting and hard. A crimson line traveled down the center of her stomach in a series of knots that led to the final one at her bellybutton.

He rested his chin on her shoulder and slipped his hand around her waist, running his fingers along the length of rope from the knot between her breasts to the one at her navel. He looped a couple fingers under it and tugged. She cried out as the rope tightened against her clit, working its way deeper into the folds of herpussy.

“How does that feel?” he asked as he met her eyes in themirror.

“Good,” shegasped.

He smiled. “Good?”

“Amazing,” shesaid.

The rope was soft in her folds, but its texture provided just enough friction to open up a yawning need at her center. An orgasm was already clamoring for release, her clitoris throbbing so hard it was almost painful. She pressed her legs together, trying to tamp it down, determined not tobeg.

Jack was restrained, powerful in all things, but he didn’t have a corner ondiscipline.

His hands moved over her hips as he murmured in her ear. “The legs are often bound as well, but I’m too eager to see you to bind your legs.” He stepped away from her. “Maybe nexttime.”

The thought should have made her cringe. This wasn’t normal — not for her. This wasn’t something she should find erotic, not something that should turn her on, that should make her wet, hungry for Jack’s body to fillher.

To suck and lick and penetrate around the ropes he’d used to bind herbody.

But it did. That much wasundeniable.

“Lay down,” hesaid.

She turned away from the mirror and watched him slip off his shoes and reach for the buttons on his shirt. She wanted to work them herself, wanted to slide the shirt from his chest, to reach for the zipper on his trousers and free hiscock.

I’ll tell you when you can touchme.

She moved to the bed, laying down as he’d ordered, and watched his body come slowly into view as he tossed aside hisshirt.

According to the information she’d found online, he was nearly sixty-five, but she wouldn’t have guessed it. He was in incredible physical condition, his pecs and biceps significant and defined, his chest hair sparse enough to be sexy. She could almost feel the slight friction of it against her painfully erectnipples.

His stomach was flat, his abs corded on their march to a trim waist, a faint line of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of hisslacks.

His eyes never left hers as he unzipped his pants and slid them from his hips. If he’d been wearing underwear, he’d removed them at the same time as his pants, because a moment later he was standing naked in front ofher.

And if his chest gave no indication of his age, the rest of him made it even harder to believe. His thighs were solid and well-built, his cock long, thick, andhard.

All the proof she’d needed that underneath all the power, all the money, Jack was just a man. Maybe not a man like any other, but a mannevertheless.

He moved to the end of the bed and looked down at her. His eyes were vacuous in the near-dark of theroom.

“Hold onto the headboard.” His voice was low andcontrolled.

She obeyed, wrapping her hands around the slats. She kept her eyes on him, wondering if he could see the need inher.

If he could smell it in theair.

“Good,” he said. “Now spread yourlegs.”

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