Bring the Heat, Margot Radcliffe [best novels to read to improve english .TXT] 📗

asked, laying a hand on her waist, his thumb caressing over the soft indentation of her rib.

“No, but—” she shrugged “—you have total domain. I’m yours to command, to do with what you will.”

His gaze tracked over her body, scorching her with heat from head to toe. “You sure?”

She nodded.

“You’re not nervous that I’m a little unhinged right now?” he asked, his eyes hooded.

“No, I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“No, I’d never hurt you,” he confirmed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m safe, Molly.”

The words kicked up her pulse, the promise in them. This whole journey had been about risk and here was another one she wasn’t going to pass up. She wanted to go wherever Oliver wanted to take her.

“Do you understand what that means?”

“I think so,” she said.

“Good,” he grunted. “At any moment if you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop.”

Molly felt her eyes widen, but like she’d felt when tied to the railing of the boat, there was an element of anticipation. She’d loved every second of being exposed to him; every hot glance, every slightly shaky touch from him as he teetered on the edge of losing control felt like her having power over someone she’d never had before. In all her relationships, sex had been about sex and feeling good. It had never been about her the way Oliver made it feel, like he was feasting on her, couldn’t let another second go by without having her. It was the passion she’d been missing for so long in her relationships and had ended up channeling into her job instead. But this, what she and Oliver had, the urgency, the tenderness, the willingness to be completely open to each other, was the best.

So when he pointed to the bed and said, “Lie down on your back,” in that growly voice, tingles shot straight to her core.

She did, crossing her legs over each other to naturally hide her wet center, but he shook his head. “Legs apart.”

Slowly, she slid them across the smooth duvet, her eyes locked on him as she did so. Tension still surrounded him and she’d do anything to see that classic Oliver smile on his face, all teeth and to-die-for dimples. She kept wondering what that smile had cost him over the years, what it cost him now to know that his parents only valued him for what he did for them. She wanted to show him that she valued him, trusted him. Scared, indeed, that she’d do anything for him.

“Good girl,” he said, and then gave no reaction when her lips thinned.

He strode across the room to one of the large armoires and pulled out a nondescript black duffel. Dropping it next to her on the bed, his hot gaze raked up her entire body as he unzipped it.

“You look like a fucking goddess,” he said, his hand stilled inside the bag. “And, yeah, I like you spread-eagled on my bed right now, but there’s never a moment I don’t look at you and think about how I’d go to my knees to worship you.”

The words stopped her breath for a moment because she felt the same way about him. For so many years he’d been a mystical memory of a perfect boyfriend who didn’t actually exist or whom she’d let get away. But now he was here in the flesh and even better than she’d remembered.

“But now, Molly,” he said, pulling out a length of silken rope, “I just want to fuck. Are you okay with that?”

She nodded, but then he said, “Uh-uh, I need the words.”

“Yes,” she whispered, already reaching for him.

But he used the opportunity to snag both her wrists in his and pull them up over her head to tie onto a secret hook in the headboard she’d never noticed before.

Her eyes flew to his. “I had it custom-made so the hooks were hidden under the leather. You know, a classy kink.”

She took a deep breath because for the first time since she got on the boat she was realizing that maybe she didn’t actually know much about Oliver.

“I’m not scared,” she told him.

He seemed unconcerned with this statement. “Good, Molly, but you might think differently when we’re finished because these ropes will come off, but you should get used to the idea that I’m not letting you go.” Those words sent a streak of adrenaline up her spine as he tied one of her ankles to another secret hook in the floorboard of the bed. Holy hell, what had she gotten herself into?

“Eventually you’ll have to marry a Lila,” Molly pointed out.

Oliver breathed through his nose, meeting her squarely in the eyes. “If you haven’t figured out by now that I do exactly what I want when I want, Molly, then you haven’t been paying fucking attention.”

Then he left the room completely. What the hell? She tried to sit up, but of course, she was tied down.

“Oliver!” she shouted.

But there was no answer from the empty floor of the yacht. She knew this was all a part of the game and she was getting wetter the longer he made her wait, but at the same time, she’d never played this kind of game before and didn’t know what to expect. But she trusted Oliver, knew that he’d deliver, that he could take her over the edge in a way she’d never experienced before so she took a couple deep breaths and once she’d finally settled, he reappeared in the room carrying a small tray with several different bottles on it.

“Did you need something?” he asked.

She glared at him and he grinned, running a reassuring hand down her arm, his eyebrow raising when she shivered. “You like this, don’t you?”

She shrugged, which was not easy to do in her current position.

He ran a single finger down the underside of her arm and she jerked. “It’s okay to admit you like it, Molly. I like it when you’re in control, too, so it works both ways.” The same single finger he’d used