Melt Into You by Roni Loren

sexual—arms, legs, head, and face are all in play. Start with soft, easy touches above the neck. Like this.”
    Jace’s hand left her shoulder and soon gentle fingertips threaded in her hair and moved in a circular motion against her scalp. A hard shudder of pleasure went through her, and she had to work hard to hold in a sigh.
    “Feel free to use your hands or the feather we provided. The person receiving the touch shouldn’t speak unless it’s to use the safe word.”
    Evan could hear the shuffling in the room as people adjusted and started the exercise, but all her focus remained on the lovely pressure of Jace’s fingers against her skull.
    “Mmm,” she murmured low enough so no one but Jace would hear. “You missed your calling as a salon shampoo girl.”
    “I didn’t say you could speak,” he said, his voice low, commanding.
    The authority in his tone sent an odd zing through her.
Whoa
. She shifted in her seat, feeling warmer than she had a second before. She nodded, not sure if an apology would break the no-speaking rule as well.
    His fingers halted as if he’d been surprised by something. Breath tickled her ear. “Sorry, Ev. That just slipped out. You can talk if you want.”
    She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’ll follow the rules you set for the activity. I can take direction.”
    She couldn’t tell if the noise he made was an under-the-breath groan or a grunt of approval, but he returned to the exercise. His fingertips slid down the side of her neck and marked a whisper-light path across her throat that had her holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut beneath the blindfold. Without consciously deciding to do so, she tilted her head back, giving him better access.
    He traced over the line of her collarbone, ever so softly, but so damn effective. It was as if each brush of skin pressed a button on her circuit board, lighting up places that had long gone dim. Delicate threads of warmth traveled down from the press of his fingers to the curve of her breasts, settling right into her quickly hardening nipples.
    Dark thoughts of Jace moving his hands lower, slipping beneath the neckline of her dress and cupping her breasts in front of all these people had liquid heat gathering between her thighs. His touch would be firm, confident. He wouldn’t even care that others were watching. He’d just touch her however he pleased. And she’d let him.
    She bit her lip.
Stop. This is Jace.
    She crossed her legs more tightly together.
    Even if she could forgive him for how he’d treated her all those years ago, she definitely could never risk being around him again. Not as a friend, and certainly not as anything more. When he’d pushed her away, her entire existence had folded in on itself. Not before or since had she ever fallen for anyone that hard—let a person’s place in her world define if life was worth living or not. It had been stupid. And dangerous. She’d spiraled into the pit of her depression so fast, she’d gotten whiplash.
    She knew she wasn’t that bad off anymore. She had taken steps to work with those damaged parts of her makeup. But she also knew Jace being near was like setting heroin in front of a recovering addict. She needed to run in the other direction.
    Now if she could just convince her hormones of that.
    Jace’s voice broke through the quiet of the room. “If you feel comfortable doing so, you can use the silk scarf to bind your partner’s hands above their head, so they can experience letting go of even more control. Then, you can move to touching the lower half. Keep the touch light and easy.”
    Evan could see a bit of movement through the shadow of the mask, and a warm hand grasped her wrist. “Evan, sit up straighter. I’m going to bind your hands behind the chair.”
    “Yes, si— I mean, sure.”
    Sir?
Where the hell had
that
come from? It’d slipped off her tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world to call him. Must’ve been that authoritative