seemed to think nothing of being naked in front of her.
She was no better, lying there in nothing but her stockings, and one of them
had loosened.
He encircled her wrist and fastened one of the leather
bindings.
“What is this for?”
“How many men have you bedded, Tess?”
She frowned at the intrusiveness of his question. “One.”
“Your husband?” he asked.
He reached for her other hand and secured the second leather
bracelet. What could she say? He would know even if she didn’t answer so she
said nothing.
“Women like you are why men are bored in their marriage
bed.” He worked with a rope until he reached the unknotted end. “You play the
dutiful wife. Bear the children. Dress to entice. And then close the door when
it is time to play your most important role—that of lover.”
“That isn’t true.”
“Was your husband faithful?”
“I didn’t come here to talk about my life.”
“No, you came to get away from it.”
“Perhaps if the secrets of the marriage bed weren’t so
guarded, young women would have more to offer their husbands.”
He hmpfed in neither agreement or disagreement, then
threaded the rope around the post at the end of the bed and another around the
post on the opposite side at the head of the bed near the wall.
Lucy didn’t want to fight the drowsiness she felt. She
rolled to her side while John turned his attention back to the bracelets at her
wrists. “What are these used for?” she asked, examining the metal clasp
attached to the leather.
“Give me a minute and you will see.”
He fiddled with the rope, tying it off. As specimens went,
Lucy thought he was lovely. Except for his erect manhood, he was perfectly
proportioned with lithe muscles and strong shoulders. What would it be like to
lie with him every night?
“Is the mask uncomfortable?” she asked.
“It might be for you, if I took it off.”
She found that funny and laughed longer than she should
have.
“On your knees, Tess.”
“No, I’m tired.”
He stood at the end of the bed and tugged on the rope. Her
hand and arm were stretched outward. She jerked at the tightening rope. “You’re
tying me to the bed?”
She supposed she was shocked more than alarmed. What a silly
idea, to restrain someone rather than enjoy each other’s touch.
“That’s the idea.” He strolled to the head of the bed. “This
will be a mite uncomfortable if you don’t get to your knees.” She struggled as
the restraints pulled her arms wider. He was stretching her across the bed. She
yanked but now the resistance was too much to fight against and the only
natural thing was to push to her knees.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “Unless you want me
to.”
“Is this Madame Dupuis’ idea?” Lucy was surprised by her
lack of apprehension, but she found that John’s easy manner had a calming
effect. Or the climactic response to his loving ministrations had her willing
to entertain the more unconventional aspects of intercourse. She hadn’t deluded
herself about what happened at brothels.
And now she was a bit wiser about what happened between
lovers.
“It was your idea.”
“Mine?” she asked.
“Were you not the one who used the words curious and explore when describing your desires?”
Should she feel fortunate that the madam had understood her
need so well and that John was a willing participant in her exploration? He
stared at her, his gaze dark and mysterious as he peered at her through the
mask.
He knelt on the bed in front of her. “What to do next?” he
mused.
He pulled a cloth from his fisted palm and reached around
her, wrapping the material around her head and blindfolding her.
“That’s not necessary. I don’t like the dark.”
“It isn’t dark. All the candles are still lit. The room is
ablaze. I can see your body perfectly. All is as it should be.”
When his hands cupped her breasts and his lips touched hers
softly, Lucy knew he was right. This night was as it