I nodded. “Yes, Desmond. I want you to show me how.”

That got his full attention and he took a step back, drawing his finger to his lips, the fingers that he had buried inside me, and brushed them across his lips. He licked them like I was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, closing his eyes.

When he spoke, his eyes were still closed like he was gathering his strength. “Take off your clothes and wait for me at the cross.”

Like a starting shot rang out, I stripped, practically dashing over to his wall of kink. He joined me, after he tugged off his jacket, rolling the sleeves of his charcoal gray button down shirt to his elbows. Beside the rack of whips was a small gunmetal colored box. He lifted the lid and pulled out a set of velvet cuffs. He attached a set to my wrists, then my ankles.

I perked, ready to back up and into position, thrill making me tremble with all of the possibilities. His eyes stroked me from head to toe, then he made a circular motion with his pointer finger, signifying that he wanted me to turn around. A pang of fear flashed in my gut. He was essentially blindfolding me. I’d have to trust him.

Wasn’t that the point?

I flexed my toes on the hardwood floor and obeyed. He attached my wrists first, then one ankle at a time.

“Sophia, you have no idea how fucking sexy you look right now.” His tone was reverent as he drew his fingertips down my spine, bringing me alive with lust and desire. He set me on fire with need, teasing the curve of my ass, then skated toward my opening. I was spread eagled, completely exposed, and completely at his mercy.

The not knowing what was coming next, not being able to see my fate made every touch, every pinch, every breath like some beautiful, erotic torture.

And then I felt the warmth of his tongue, deep inside me. I wanted to buck, to take more of him, but all I could do was moan and beg for more. Every inch of my body belonged to Desmond O’Connell.

Just when I felt my orgasm threatening to take me under, he took a breath and I was panting, trembling uncontrollably.

“Desmond…Des…Sir…”

He unhooked me and I was still a shuddering mess. “I made you a promise, didn’t I?”

I smiled against his chest as he climbed the stairs to the loft. For all the shiny, luxurious, and naughty furnishings in the rest of his penthouse apartment, only one piece of furniture was in the bedroom, a simple four poster bed.

He laid me on the mattress and slowly removed his clothing until he stood before me in all his muscled glory.

“We’re pretty good at the whole fucking thing, but I need more than that from you now. I need to make love to you, Sophia.”

If I wasn’t completely in love with this man, waiting for someone like him to come along and make me whole, then I knew that truth when he pushed inside me. His eyes locked on my eyes, his heart beating in time with my heart.

Sex had never been beautiful with anyone else but with Desmond, it was poetry.

We were still catching our breath, sweaty and wrecked when I tilted my head and realized that I’d been mistaken. There were two pieces of furniture, a bed and a nightstand. The nightstand was a slender onyx piece that was connected to the bedpost.

A smile dashed across my lips when I saw something familiar perched on top of it. It was the black mask he wore the night we met…and my mask was nestled beside it.

“I was sure you’d burned all the evidence after you kicked me out of Hush,” I kidded, turning back to him.

“Never. How could I erase the night where I met the stubborn, un-sublike, secret reporter who stole my heart?”

I pressed my lips against his cheek, breathing him in. “I would have understood if you walked away. The secrets, the lies-”

“Shh,” he murmured, nuzzling closer. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be. Besides-” His gaze turned downright mischievous. “I’ve yet to make you use your safeword.”

He tickled me until I was breathless and gasping…and I still didn’t say it.

I finally found my guy, and the only word I could think of was ‘green’.

~

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