Carrot and Coriander by Ashe Barker Page B

woman writhing and moaning on this bed, within not very many minutes.
    “Is that comfortable?” He tested the tightness of the restraint, slipping his fingers under the nylon to make sure her blood flow was not restricted.
    Rachel nodded. Satisfied, he reached for the black tights.
    “Close your eyes.” Rachel obeyed, and he tied the makeshift blindfold at the back of her head.
    “Can you see anything? I want no peeping, now. Promise?”
    “I, I promise…” Rachel’s voice was breathy, shaky, he knew she was scared, needing reassurance. Kneeling on the bed behind her, he drew her back into his arms, her slim shoulder blades against his bare chest. He trailed his lips down her neck, from that delicate little spot behind her ear, along her collar bone, then stopped to nibble the point of her shoulder. He rested his hands lightly on her stomach, on top of her camisole, his palms flat, his fingers extended. He circled them on her abdomen, dipping lower to tease and suggest, before changing direction and sliding his right hand swiftly up, under the camisole, to cup her left breast.
    She gasped, but offered no protest other than that, so he molded and kneaded the soft, full mound under his hand. He circled the tight nipple with his finger, loving the way it swelled and hardened as he brushed his palm over it. Despite his earlier words, he was infinitely gentle as he stroked, caressed and calmed her—this was not the time for squeezing and screaming. Seconds later that her weight sagged against him as she relaxed in his arms.
    He was in no hurry. He repeated the treatment on her other breast, savoring the full softness. He’d not exactly lived like a monk since he’d come out of jail, but there was something strange, fresh and incredibly enticing about Rachel’s breasts in his hands. They were on the small side, but filled his palms perfectly.
    At last he was ready to move on. “Lie down, love,” he whispered into her ear. He relaxed his grip to allow her to move into position.
    She did, obeying him immediately. Progress indeed.
    “I’ll leave the camisole, like I said. But these, these have to go. Okay?” Kneeling now by her feet, Callum looped the fingers of both hands in the elastic at the top of her briefs and tugged slightly.
    She stiffened at his touch, but only just, then lifted her hips helpfully at the right moment. He pulled the briefs past her bottom and drew them down her legs. He smiled at Rachel again as he dropped them on the carpet beside the bed. She lay still, her legs tightly closed. Callum smiled to himself—he’d soon deal with that.
    He leaned down to graze her belly button with his lips, and smiled to himself in satisfaction at her jerk. She hadn’t expected that, he knew. She most likely expected him to just instruct her to open her legs, and who knows, she might have obeyed. He rather thought she would. But it was better this way. He continued to drop lazy, chaste little kisses on her tummy. She wriggled, bringing her knees up.
    “That tickles.”
    “Yeah? What about this?” He put his moth on her abdomen, just at the very top edge of the dark brown hair which arrowed down between her thighs, and blew a noisy raspberry. Her body arched under him, and she squealed. Her knees bent further, though she still kept them tight together. No matter, he slid his left hand quickly under them, and flattened his palm on the back of her thigh. A moment later he was caressing her bottom, sliding his thumb into the cleft between her buttocks.
    “Oh. What are you…?” She broke off as he found his target. He slipped the tip of his thumb between the moist lips of her pussy, just briefly, but enough to let her know, in no uncertain terms, he was there and this was happening. Now. And he wouldn’t be asking her permission anymore. And that it was bloody wonderful.
    He quickly replaced his thumb with two fingers, sliding them deep into her slick channel as she visibly relaxed under his ministrations.