The Pleasures of Autumn (18 page)

Coffee? How could he think of coffee at a time like this? She had barely gotten her hands on him and he wanted to have breakfast? The bedroom door opened and a robe-clad Niall entered carrying two cups. He set them down on the bedside table.

She patted the quilt and pouted. ‘Forget the coffee. Come back to bed, Sinead wants to play.’

‘Does she now?’ Niall sat down and lounged against the padded headboard, the picture of unconcern. Had someone pressed his ‘off’ switch? ‘What games does Sinead like to play?’

There was an edge to his voice she didn’t understand, but then he smiled and she was reassured. ‘Maybe I could tie you up?’ she offered.

He almost spat out a mouthful of coffee. ‘Not a chance. Besides, there isn’t a lot that could hold me.’

To prove his point he flexed his arm. She glanced at the width of his forearms and the wall of muscle visible where the robe parted. Niall really was beautiful and very strong. What would it be like to see that strength unleashed, to see him out of control with passion? The thought of it made her shiver.

‘We’re going to play Truth or Dare. Are you up for it?’ Niall asked. The glint in his eye should have made her wary, but she wasn’t going to back down.

‘Of course. Sounds like fun.’

Sinead was discovering that a lifetime of being a good girl wasn’t half as much fun as being bad. Niall was an experience she couldn’t miss, and whose memory she would enjoy for the rest of her life. She wasn’t going to wimp out because his eyes had darkened to a stormy glitter.

‘Take off that bathrobe and get comfortable.’

‘Comfortable? You really don’t know much about women, do you?’ Sinead said, even as she opened her robe with teasing fingers and allowed it to drop to the floor. As Lottie, she was confident, but since she had stopped dancing professionally, she had put on ten pounds, and was very conscious of them sitting on her belly. ‘There are almost no women who are comfortable being naked in front of other people.’

‘Don’t be silly. You look stunning, and you know it.’ Niall’s eyes were on her breasts, not on her belly. She shimmied a little, making her breasts quiver, and watched him swallow. Lottie still had it.

‘Truth or dare?’ he asked.

‘Truth.’ That couldn’t be too difficult. She had been telling him the truth.

‘What’s your name?’

She paused for a fraction of a second before she said, ‘Sinead O’Sullivan.’ Damn it, she had almost said Lottie LeBlanc. She watched his eyes narrow at her hesitation. Niall Moore was too sharp.

She tried to imagine Uncle Tim’s reaction if he ever found out about Lottie, and shuddered. Some things were best left unexplored. ‘Dare,’ she said hastily. She wasn’t
giving him the chance to ask her any more questions like that.

‘Have you ever had your breasts bound?’ Niall picked up a length of rope.

It was thinner than the rope she had used around horses but thicker than baling twine, and it was orange. She shook her head. ‘I don’t see how you could.’

He stepped closer to her, so that she could feel his body heat and breathe in his unique scent. Shampoo, skin, a hint of musk, wholly male, all Niall. She would know him anywhere, just by inhaling his scent. He wrapped the rope around her right breast, tightened it to the point where there was a slight pinch but no pain. ‘All right?’ he asked.

She nodded. Her breast stood high, the nipple pointing out.

With dexterous fingers, Niall passed the rope around her back, criss-crossing it and tying a knot to hold it in place. He wound the rope around her breast, taking care to make sure the cord lay flat against her skin. Each twist of the rope increased the feeling of tightness. As the blood was trapped by the rope, her skin flushed and darkened. Her nipple stood out, rigid.

He stopped before he reached the now purple nipple, tied off the cord and stood back. ‘How does that feel?’

‘I have no idea,’ she said truthfully. It was tight and constricting, but at the same time, she jangled with a combination of pain and pleasure.

He flicked her nipple. ‘Now?’

Sinead gasped and her knees buckled. It was as if every nerve ending in her body had taken up residence in her breasts. ‘I’ve never felt anything like that.’

Niall was there to support her. He set her on her feet and then gave her a wicked grin. ‘And we’re only half done.’

She watched, wide-eyed, as he bound her other breast. She was fascinated by the neat knots, the way her skin changed colour, the sensation of blood pounding under her skin.

When he was done, she looked at her reflection. ‘You could put Wonder Bra out of business.’ The rope bra gave her an uplift that even her Lottie stage bras could not. The woman facing her in the mirror was a stranger. A sultry, mysterious, decadent stranger.

Niall appeared in the mirror beside her. The combination of his robed strength and her bound nakedness made something twist inside her. Despite herself, moisture pooled between her thighs.

‘Do you want to play another game?’

She nodded.

‘It’s a difficult one.’

Her competitive spirit rose to the challenge. ‘Bring it on.’ Her cousin Summer had learnt years ago that the easiest way to make Sinead do something she wasn’t supposed to do was to tell her she couldn’t do it.

‘Pick a number.’

She had no idea what he was about, so played it safe. ‘Five.’

‘Good choice.’ He handed her a sheet of notepaper. ‘Tear it up into about six pieces and scatter them on the floor.’

Mystified, she did, taking care to spread them out evenly.

‘How’s your memory?’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Better than yours, I’m sure.’

‘Then you’ll have no problem remembering where the bits of paper are.’

She surveyed the floor again, memorizing the positions of the scraps. ‘No, none at all.’

Niall moved behind her and put the sleeping mask over her eyes, then caught her wrists in his big hands. He tied them together loosely behind her back, before wrapping the end of the rope between them, so that she couldn’t wriggle out. ‘Now pick up the bits of paper.’

She wished he could see her glare through the mask. ‘You bastard.’

Hampered by her hands being tied, she got down on her knees and moved to the place where she thought the first piece of paper was. She leaned over and picked it up with her lips.

‘Good girl. One down, five to go.’ Niall took the scrap from her.

Now it got more difficult. She was no longer exactly sure where the next piece was in relation to where she was now. But even if she couldn’t see, her brain still functioned. She shuffled around the room, using her bare knees to feel for the paper. Got it. And feck this picking things up in her mouth. She was not a dog, she could do better.

Sinead lowered herself onto the floor, scrabbled around with her bound hands and picked up the next bit. She flipped it triumphantly.

Niall laughed and took it. ‘Well done, four more to go.’ He sat down on the chair. ‘Oh, did I mention there was a time limit? And a penalty?’

She glared blindly at him. ‘No, you neglected to mention that.’

‘For every piece of paper you don’t find in two minutes, you get ten spanks.’

‘That’s not fair! How much time has elapsed?’

‘Thirty seconds.’ How was that possible? It felt as if she had been searching for ages. But her competitive spirit was up and she got moving, searching for the rest of the paper.

Now it was hard. She had no idea where she was in the room, or where the paper was. Once more, Niall’s hand stopped her. ‘You’re about to hit the dressing table.’

She changed direction and kept searching until, with a triumphant crow, she found one more, then Niall called, ‘Time’s up.’

‘You’re not really going to do this, are you?’ She half laughed, not sure if she wanted to egg him on or tell him to stop.

She heard the creak of the chair as Niall seated himself. ‘You bet I am. I’ve been dying to do this for the last week.’ That was her only warning before a strong arm grabbed her and tipped her over his knee.

‘Ow!’ His thighs were thick with muscle, but she felt awkward. Without her hands to help her balance, she was dependent on Niall to keep her from falling. The position caused the blood to rush to her aching nipples, making her gasp. ‘I’ll fall.’

‘No, you won’t.’ Niall held her securely, and despite herself, she relaxed. All that Viking muscle had to be good for something. He wouldn’t drop her.

Swat! The first spank shocked her. This wasn’t a pretend
slap. This was a real one that would leave a mark. ‘That hurt.’

‘Oh come on. That was barely a warm-up.’ Another shocking spank landed, driving her into his thighs. It lit a fire in her breasts, making her moan.

The third spank cracked onto her ass. Despite her resolve to take whatever he could give her, she tried to put her hands back to stop him. He caught her wrists and kept going. Fourth, fifth, sixth. She yelled with each one and struggled, trying to twist off his lap, trying to wrench her wrists from his grip.

‘Bastard.’ She was panting and sweating now, her ass ablaze and her breasts on fire.

He laughed. ‘You have no idea.’ More spanks, hot and stinging. Her world had reduced to the muscular thighs supporting her, the merciless hand that was blistering her bottom, and the extraordinary heat that was running from her nipples to her clit.

‘That’s ten.’ He paused. ‘You know, I don’t think you hate this as much as you pretend.’ One broad finger eased down her thighs and between her lips. They were wet and slippery, and the added pressure of his finger opening her up was too much to bear. He touched the tip of her sensitive clit and she convulsed into an unexpected orgasm.

‘Ahh!’ When she regained control of herself again, she was surprised to find she was still over his knees, still blindfolded and trembling.

‘You are a kinky girl, aren’t you?’ he teased, before returning to spanking her.

This time, she lay limply, allowing herself to absorb the swats without fighting them. Heat bloomed again and she
found herself moving a little, trying to position the spanks where she needed them.

Too soon he stopped. ‘All done. You were a brave girl.’

For a mad moment, she considered asking him to keep going before sanity returned. ‘Can I get up? This is not a dignified position.’

He helped her to her feet. ‘One more thing. Those nipples are far too tempting.’ Something flicked one and the wet heat of his mouth closed over the other. The invisible string linking all her nerve endings tightened. The edge of his teeth tightening was all it needed to tip her over the edge into another orgasm.

She lost the power of speech as her world reduced to her flushed skin and convulsing insides. What did this man do to her? How did he do it?

Niall held her as she trembled until her watery legs were able to support her again. ‘Let’s take this off.’ He fiddled at the knots before he said, ‘Hold still.’ She felt cold metal against her skin as he clipped open the cord.

The rush of blood to her breasts was enough to weaken her knees again. For endless moments, all she was aware of was the burn as her circulation returned to normal. He supported her, holding her against his now naked body. The brush of her ultra-sensitive nipples against the hot skin of his chest made her groan.

‘Now, there is the little matter of five,’ he told her, his voice a suggestive rumble in her ear.

She had forgotten. ‘Five what?’

‘Orgasms. Only three more to go.’

She groaned. The last two had nearly killed her. She had no idea how she would manage three more. She rubbed her
wrists and cuddled her aching breasts. ‘What is this, death by orgasm?’ She still wore the blindfold and made no effort to take it off. Somehow, as long as she wore it, this wasn’t real.

‘Tell me where the Fire of Autumn is, and we can stop.’

Damn, that was far too real. ‘I already told you, Roisin has it.’

‘Yeah, I remember. You told me a lot of things.’ He picked her up and laid her down on the bed.

She hadn’t registered the short bars set into the headboard until he wrapped her hands around two of them. ‘Hold on to those, or I’ll have to tie you.’

Sinead gripped them tightly. She hated being out of control.

Niall let loose his sensual armoury on her. He kissed her until her head spun, alternating light teasing kisses with deep passionate ones that touched her soul. He nibbled his way down her neck, with a foray onto her earlobe, before finding her breasts. The nipples throbbed in time to her labouring breaths. Even the pressure of the air was almost too much to bear. Niall’s hot breath and surgically precise teeth pushed her over the edge again.

She wailed, not caring if the people in the next apartment could hear. Hell, not caring if all of Paris could hear.

This time there was no tender embrace. Niall kept going, pushing her limp thighs apart to make a space for himself. ‘Mmm, you smell so good. I could get drunk on you.’ His tongue lapped at her, licking along her lips. It was too much, she was too sensitive. She tried to close her legs against him, but he was like a rock.

‘Can’t take any more,’ she protested, though even to her own ears, it sounded weak.

He laughed. ‘You can take anything I give you.’ He teased her clit with the tip of his tongue. The little bundle of nerves jerked and she found herself lifting her hips to his mouth.

‘So good,’ he murmured and settled down to licking and sucking in earnest.

Sinead gripped the headboard desperately, trying to retain her sanity. Every time she thought she could cope with what he was doing, Niall changed it. Now he was swiping sideways over her mons, the prickle of his morning beard a delicious contrast to the softness of his lips.

She tensed, gathering again for another plunge into ecstasy, but her body was betraying her. ‘I can’t.’

‘You can.’ He sucked harder, his tongue flicking delicately, while one big hand pinched her nipple.

‘I hate you,’ she gasped before losing the ability to speak. Or breathe. Or think. Nothing existed except Niall and her traitorous body that constantly rose to his touch.

Then he was there, plunging into her, pounding into her, filling a void that she hadn’t been aware existed. She gripped his hips, driving him on with her heels, desperate for more of everything he had to give.