PleasureBound (4 page)

Sam felt far from dirty or weary, but being a when-in-Rome
kind of girl, always keen to partake of local customs, she accepted with
alacrity. If nothing else, she figured it was the perfect chance to get her
still-smoldering lover out of all his clothes, and that was the sort of
opportunity she’d be a fool to pass up.

Shedding her own clothes, she lamented losing her new
underwear before Adam had a chance to fully appreciate it in all its
provocative glory. But as the memories of his earlier hot and hungry reaction
to it had her flushing all over, she vowed to wear it again for him soon.

She was scrubbed, glowing, and working up a good sweat
simply by lying naked on one of the marble benches set at intervals around the
stone walls by the time Adam appeared through the steam, pristine white towel
slung low around his hips.

He didn’t remove the towel as he sat on the bench opposite,
waving the attendant with her soaps and scourers away before leaning back
against the wall and closing his eyes.

Sam fought the urge to pout over this seemingly prudish act,
which she took to be less an uncharacteristic attack of modesty, and more a
rare sign of vulnerability or a disgruntled form of protest. She knew the best
way to get what she wanted out of Adam was to let him feel in control of giving
up control, so it was important to maintain her outward demeanor of calm
patience. No matter how difficult it might be when her insides were a churning
mess.

She soon found herself distracted as she took the
opportunity to ogle him anyway. That towel might deny her the full X-rated view
of his male beauty, but there was still more than enough of him to admire in
the hazy light. Those broad shoulders, muscled chest and long, strong legs were
positively drool-worthy—or would have been, if she’d had enough moisture left
in her system to produce saliva with all the sweating she was doing.

Before long she noticed Adam was sweating too, and, drowsy
from the heat, Sam drifted in a mesmerized, heavy-lidded state, watching the
beads gather on his torso and begin wending their way southward in long, lazy
trails.

“What if I can’t do this?” His quiet question a short time
later broke into her hypnotic stupor and brought her attention back up to his
face. His eyes were closed but the frown hovering over them told her he was far
from relaxed.

Sam tried to ignore the plummeting feeling in her stomach
telling her that this was it—the big refusal. She drew in a deep breath and
considered her reply to his opening salvo, grateful that they were at least
engaging at last. “I think it’s more a question of won’t rather than can’t,
don’t you? We both know you can give me this, Adam.”

Those blue eyes flashed open at that, only to narrow with
annoyance at her punctiliousness. “All right, then, what if I won’t? Where does
that leave us, Samantha?”

Nowhere Sam wanted to be, that was for sure. And she was
careful to let him know that as she tried to impress upon him how important
this was to her, emotionally as well as sexually.

“Yes, but why now, out of the blue like this? You’ve never
even hinted at such things, never given the impression you’re unhappy with the
way things are between us.” Adam’s body twitched and he moved to swipe a hand
at a bead of sweat as it ticked its way over a sensitive patch of flesh, the
action smearing the moisture into his already glistening skin so that in the
steamy half-light he looked oiled and golden and god-like.

“Of course I’m not unhappy, Adam. It’s because I am happy,
and love and trust you that I’m able to admit to these deep feelings and
needs—that I want to explore them with you. I’m not asking for things between
us to change, just to grow a bit.”

He took a moment to mull. “Have you done it in the past?” he
asked, in a tone tightened by what she recognized as possessiveness. “Before
me?”

Sam shook her head. “I’ve thought about it, but no,” she
admitted. “To be honest, I’ve never felt quite such an urge before—not like I
do with you. It seems this particular button comes exclusively labeled ‘Adam’.”

He looked at her for a long, long time. “I don’t like it,
Sam. It’s not who I am,” he said.

“I know,” Sam acknowledged, giving him a regretful little
smile. “That’s why I wouldn’t be asking it of you if it didn’t feel so
important to me.”

With a heavy sigh, Adam lapsed back into silence, leaning
his head against the wall and re-closing his eyes. The muscles in his jaw
twitched as though he fought a silent argument with himself, his lips narrowed
into a hard line of irritability, and his shoulders were stiff with
indignation. Despite all that, Sam couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope that
she might actually get her wish after all. He wasn’t happy, but at least he
hadn’t stormed off.

And boy, as her attention wandered back to his sweat-soaked
torso, she was grateful he’d decided to stick around. Gaze honing in on the
descent of one particularly juicy droplet of perspiration drizzling its way
between his pectorals, Sam fantasized about trailing its path with her tongue
instead of her eyes. She conjured the salty taste of that hot, hot skin, imagined
the feel of those washboard abs contracting as she dipped into the hollow of
his navel before once more tracking the droplet down, down…

Just as the drop reached the edge of the towel and was in
danger of being soaked up, Adam shifted, hands coming up to loosen the tuck at
his hip. Peeling back the ends of the towel, he spread them wide and let them
drop to the bench as he repositioned his legs and relaxed into a brazen sprawl.

Ooh, very nice. Sam’s eyes flicked up to his face to
discover that his were once again open and watching her watch him. One dark
eyebrow elevated a mere fraction in challenge, letting her know he was toying
with her.

Well, that was fine by Sam. She was more than game on. With
a lick of her lips she dropped her gaze back to that lucky little bead of
sweat, watching as it trickled its way down the smooth skin of Adam’s pelvis
and disappeared into the thatch of dark hair framing the heavy hang of his
penis and testicles. She kept a good eye out for its reappearance, conducting a
thorough visual search of the area, but alas, it was never to be seen
again—died and gone to heaven, no doubt.

For all his continuing air of disapproval toward her, there
was no denying that certain parts of Adam seemed appreciative of Sam’s
attention. Under her watchful eye, the shaft of his cock thickened and
lengthened, rising to half-mast, the balls beneath plumping and pulling closer
up against his body.

Taking that as a sign that his mood was at last beginning to
lift, Sam sent Adam an inviting smile and stroked a hand up the slick skin of
her stomach to the valley between her breasts. Tracing a slow figure-of-eight
pattern around both mounds, she felt her nipples stiffen. There were definite
further stirrings of interest between those hard thighs as Adam’s ever-sharp
gaze followed the movement, and Sam felt an electric thrill run through her
when he sat forward, gathered those long legs beneath him and pushed to his
feet.

She held her breath in anticipation as he moved to stand
over her—naked, aroused and intense—but let it out on a puff of frustration
when, after a moment, he turned on his heel and strolled away without so much
as a word.

Chapter Four

After they’d showered and dried and donned the loose,
flowing linen robes and butter-soft leather slippers provided, Adam and Sam
were directed to climb to the rooftop terrace of the Kasbah’s great watchtower.
The magical candlelit dining area that had been created for them there with
mounds of plump, jewel-bright cushions scattered around a low-set table had Sam
spinning around with delight.

While not quite as exuberant in his reaction, Adam found
himself jolted out of his introspective wrangling by the sheer beauty of the
setting. Beyond the golden glow of flame light flickering against the
crenellated battlements, the backdrop to their sumptuous alfresco dining room
was magnificent, from the faint, eerie luminosity of the moonlit sea of sand
dunes stretching off into the night, to the infinite canopy of stars twinkling
overhead.

Accompanied by the musical strains of a traditional Gimbri—a
three-stringed rectangular lute—they proceeded to dine as finely as sultans,
and Adam couldn’t help but relax further under the delicious culinary
onslaught, adding his own voice to Sam’s exclamations of pleasure and delight
as dish after dish of fragrant, spice-rich food arrived to tantalize their
taste buds.

Reclining replete among the veritable mountain of cushions
as they picked at a final platter of sticky-sweet dried fruits between them,
Adam knew it was time to put an end to his deliberations. One way or another.

“So, what restraints are we talking about here? Ribbons,
scarves—?”

He saw Sam jump at the unexpected question and throw an
embarrassed look at their hovering attendants before giving a quick shake of
her head. She could still be so concerned with propriety, even with what she
was asking of him?

“Cuffs and rope,” she told him under her breath.

Shit, it was worse than he’d thought—at least he would’ve
stood a chance of working himself free of a couple of slippery amateur knots.
“Collars?”

Sam shook her head again but seemed unwilling to go into
detail in front of their audience. After a minute’s more procrastination, Adam
pushed to his feet and rounded the table to stand in front of her. “Show me,
then,” he said, extending his hand.

Sam’s eyes looked dark and huge and as easy to read as an
open book as they gazed up into his with a mix of excitement, hope and fear—no
doubt searching for a clue as to his intentions. God knew she’d have trouble
finding an answer where there wasn’t one. All Adam knew for sure at that moment
was that he wanted her. Badly. Having feared his libido would never recover
from the drenching of ice water she’d given it on the plane, the combined steam
of the hammam and the heated looks she’d been trailing over his body had
brought it springing back to life.

When Sam reached out and placed her hand in his, he noticed
with an instinctual rush of protectiveness that his larger one was both warmer
and steadier than hers. Hauling her to her feet, he wondered which one of them
was more nervous. In silence, he turned and led her toward the stairs,
following after a robed figure that scurried to show them the way to their
private suite of rooms.

Once inside, he proceeded to the bedroom doorway and drew to
a stop on the threshold, unable to make himself take another step. Releasing
his grip on Sam’s hand, he watched as she moved forward into the room, scooping
her case off the floor and placing it on the bed before opening it to rummage
through the contents.

Even from across the room he could see her hands visibly
shake as she drew out the items, one by one, and lay them on the heavy
embroidered bedspread.

First came the thick leather wrist and ankle cuffs, next a
length of black silk rope, and finally a leather blindfold.

Shit. That was some serious kit, all right. Adam had yet to
move a muscle from his position by the door, his stance tense and guarded as he
stared at the collection of restraints on the bed. Sam wasn’t going about this
by halves, that was for sure. He thought of the size of engagement ring he had
hidden between the layers of clothing in his own luggage and recognized with
not a little irony how similar their thinking was. Both of them had come away
on this weekend seeking bondage and submission of one form or another, and both
had come armed to the teeth to achieve their goals. Sam had just happened to
show her hand first.

Perhaps realizing that the next few moments would be the
most crucial in determining the outcome of the evening, Sam removed the bag
from the bed and headed to the walk-in closet, ostensibly to begin unpacking
her things, but more likely to give him some space while he made his decision.

If only he had the first clue what the hell that was going
to be.

From the corner of her eye, Sam watched Adam move toward the
bed with the same caution as a vertigo sufferer approaching the edge of cliff.
He stood there for a while just looking, then bent and picked up one of the
cuffs. Holding it up for inspection, he turned it this way and that, the
movement causing the steel fastenings to flash as they caught the glow of the
bedside lamps.

She felt an answering flash deep in her groin. If he was
examining the cuff for weakness, he’d be disappointed. Knowing him as well as
she did, she’d chosen that particular bondage kit as much for its sturdy
quality as its black good looks.

As desperate as she was to see how stunning that thick black
leather would look against Adam’s olive skin, subduing all that lean, muscular
strength, Sam knew she couldn’t rush it, so, collecting her toiletries, she
headed into the adjoining bathroom, closing the door with a soft click behind
her.

Studying her reflection in the mirror as she went about her
ablutions, Sam was amazed to see that, apart from her color running a little
high, she looked pretty much the same cool-headed woman she always did. How
could that be, when underneath she was reduced to little more than a writhing
turmoil of fear and doubt, love and lust?

Stripping out of her fine linen robes, Sam dropped her short
satin negligee over her head, shivering at the feel of the slippery cool
material as it slid down over her skin, still sensitized and glowing from its
earlier pampering. Reaching for her hairbrush, she decided enough was enough.
She’d give Adam another five minutes, and not a moment more.

By the time her hair lay over her shoulders in a smooth,
glossy curtain, she was near to going out of her mind with nerves, and
virtually panting with desire. After all the tension and anticipation of the
past few days, it was clear that whatever decision Adam made tonight, one thing
was for certain—there was no way she’d be able to deny herself the pleasure of
his body. However he was willing to give it.

The sight that greeted her when she re-opened the door had
her grabbing the frame for support as her knees threatened to buckle beneath
her. Her dream birthday present stood there waiting, naked except for a thick
cuff encircling each wrist, the black leather against his skin more starkly
sexy than she could ever had imagined—a potent symbol of his submission.

Chin up, fists bunched, eyes blazing defiance, Adam looked
glorious. His fully erect cock stood proud, suggesting that now they were
getting down it, maybe he wasn’t quite as averse to the whole idea as he’d
first seemed.

“Not the blindfold,” he growled, his body radiating so much
tension it was almost an audible hum in the room.

Sam grinned, wondering how she could ever have doubted him.
Adam had a backbone made of solid titanium and, as far as she knew, had never
failed to rise to a challenge in his life, no matter how tough the call.

More important than that spine of steel, however, was the
man’s obvious heart of gold. Her own heart swelled with happiness and love to
know that he was willing to go so far out of his comfort zone for her—for them.

“Okay. No blindfold,” she conceded, but only because it
suited her. Why hide those gorgeous baby-blues when she could use them to look
deep into his soul and gauge every response? Walking over to him, she poked a
finger against his rock-hard chest, careful not to break a nail against those
super-tense muscles. “But that’s the only concession you’re getting. Remember,
as much as you might hate it, this is going to be about me being in charge for
once.”

Quick as lightning Adam grabbed her finger and sucked it
deep into his mouth. As Sam gasped at the erotic pull she felt all the way down
to her clitoris, he released her finger and bent his face close to hers.

“Once and only,” he vowed, voice quiet, tone implacable,
lips a mere breath from hers. “So make sure you enjoy yourself.”

Oh, they’d see about that. She was determined to make the
experience good enough that he’d be happy to come back for more, but that
wasn’t something he’d be ready to hear just yet. “I’d rather enjoy you,” she
countered, tilting her head up to run the tip of her tongue across the tight
seam of his lips and pulling back when she felt them begin to soften and part.

Dancing away from his reaching hands, she caught up the
length of black silk rope from the bed and headed for the large,
straight-backed wooden chair she’d earmarked as perfect for her needs.

“What are you doing?” Adam asked as she began dragging the
heavy piece of furniture away from the wall.

Sam huffed and puffed until she had the chair positioned in
the center of the room, right where she wanted it. “There.” She blew her hair
out of her face as she straightened and turned to Adam. “Take a seat.”

Adam remained where he was and frowned at her. “I thought
you wanted to tie me up.”

Sam let her gaze sweep up over his very fine form—from his
wide-planted feet to the crown of dark hair that was currently standing a
little on end—and back down again. “Hmm, I most certainly do. I’m going to tie
you to this chair and have my wicked way with you.”

The frown deepened. “I thought you meant to tie me to the
bed.”

Sam shrugged. His misconception. His problem.

“I’d prefer the bed,” Adam said, getting stubborn before
they’d even started.

Sam bit back a sigh, too excited to be really annoyed.
“Tough. You don’t get to choose. Now quit stalling and sit down.” She stopped
suddenly, her gaze searching deep into his eyes. She let a look of gentle
empathy dawn on her face. “Ah,” she said in her sweetest, most non-judgmental
tone, “unless you’re not up to it after all?”

It worked like a dream. Goaded by her touchy-feely tone,
Adam was in the chair in seconds and Sam wasted no time in bending down to tie
his wrist cuffs firmly to the rear chair legs.

“Remember, no blindfold,” Adam bossed as she straightened. “No
whips either. No clamps, no anal—”

Sam put her hand over his mouth and raised her eyebrows.
“Don’t you think maybe you should have run through this before I tied you up?”

The flash of horror on Adam’s face had her laughing even as
he shook his mouth free and said, “Shit. Am I going to need a safe word?”

For a moment Sam felt a wicked urge to play him up on that,
but took pity on him instead. “I don’t think so.” She smiled into his eyes. “I
told you before, this is going to be about pleasure, not pain. I know what you
like and what you don’t. Trust me.”

Apparently not convinced by her reassurance, Adam flexed
those manly muscles of his to test the bonds, but regardless of how hard he
pulled and twisted and rattled, his arms remained anchored by his sides.

Feeling infinitely more pleased with this arrangement than
Adam looked to be, Sam circled the chair, letting the fingers of one hand drift
across the tense set of his shoulders, deciding it was time to wipe the glower
from his handsome face. She’d waited a long time for this.

Coming to a halt in front of her prisoner, Sam stepped
forward, using her knee to push his thighs apart so she could step between
them. Spearing both hands into his hair, she titled his head back and lowered
her mouth to his.

The kiss started well. Sam paced it slow and sweet,
determined to savor every precious second of her control over Adam. He yielded
to her gentle assault, lips softening, mouth opening under the teasing play of
her tongue, but it wasn’t long before he was fighting to claim command, his own
tongue thrusting deep as all the while he strained to get his arms free.

The man just couldn’t seem to help himself.

Sam broke the kiss to remind him of the rules, but before
she had the chance to utter a word, Adam wrapped his legs tight around her hips
and used their considerable strength to hold her trapped. Ducking his head, he
captured the tip of one breast in his mouth, clamping his teeth around the
nipple and sucking hard through the satin.

The breath exploded from Sam’s on a cry as arrows of
pleasure shot straight from breast to groin. She squirmed in Adam’s hold, her
ability to think lost for a moment on a wave of pure sensation. Was she
supposed to be fighting to get closer, or farther away?

It took some persistence, as well as a few judiciously
placed pinches, before Sam managed to free herself. Hands on hips, she glared
at Adam.

“Stop. Trying. To take. Charge.”

“I can’t help it.” He shrugged, with not a hint of
contrition in his look or posture. “It comes naturally.”

Sam sighed. It was going to be a long, long night.

“Well try. You can start with no more touching.”

Adam’s blue eyes gleamed as he dropped his gaze to Sam’s
chest, which was still heaving from her escape effort. Leaning forward as far
as his bonds would allow, he pursed his lips and blew over the damp patch of
satin covering her peaked nipple, making it bead even tighter. He grinned at
the sight of Sam’s involuntary shudder, looking too smug for words.

“Fine.” He smirked. “No more touching.”

God help her.