Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
“Sevastyan?”
Flambé sounded so tired he was immediately ashamed of indulging himself even further by just lying half over the top of her.
“What is it, baby?” He kept his voice gentle.
“I need to take a bath, but I’m so tired I don’t think I can move enough to get back downstairs.”
“I didn’t make it clear that you would be sleeping with me here in this room from now on? I’m fairly certain I did, Flambé. Maybe you were too excited to listen to me. It’s been a long night. We’ll move your things in here and I’ll program you into the security code so you can come and go as you please. Let me get the water running for your bath while you rest.”
He lifted his head and looked down at her face. She had her eyes closed. She looked as if she was already drifting off. He wasn’t sure by the expression on her face if she was happy with the idea of sleeping in the bedroom with him. The thought made him smile. Wasn’t the woman supposed to want to sleep with her man?
He brushed kisses over her eyelids and then her nose. “Thank you, malen’koye plamya. You were quite amazing as a beginner at our rope practice. I should have taken your picture, but I didn’t want to leave you in the ropes too long.”
“I loved the ropes.”
He could hear the honesty in her voice, but she didn’t open her eyes. Her face was very relaxed. He loved the way she looked. He wanted to roll her into him, curl around her and fall asleep just that way. That was an interesting idea to him when it had never occurred to him to sleep with another human being in the same room, let alone in the same bed or touching his skin. When he’d thought about having a woman of his own he hadn’t considered exactly where he’d have her sleep. He wanted access to her all night, but he didn’t think he would just curl around her and go to sleep. That was what restraints were for—to keep everyone safe.
“I thought the patterns were so beautiful, Sevastyan. You can make anyone look beautiful and sensual in your creations.”
That sleepy note in her voice stirred his cock. He forced himself to move, reluctantly withdrawing from the haven of her body. He had already grown semi-hard again just listening to that drowsy, very sensual bedroom voice she had. As he shifted his weight off of her, she curled onto her side away from him. Her hair spilled across the black of his sheets in a bright splash of brilliant crimson silk.
Immediately, because his mind worked that way, images began to form in his head of her tied, the black background under her, red hair spilling around her; his captive, the shifter, strawberry leopard that she was, feminine, soft, bending, yielding, submissive even, until one looked closer and saw her immense power. The ties would have to be just right.
“Or you made my creation look beautiful and sensual,” he corrected, and kissed the swelling at her hairline before sliding off the bed to go to the master bath to run the water for her.
While the tub was filling, he cleaned himself and returned to her to find her half asleep. Her lashes fluttered, acknowledging his presence, but she didn’t lift her head. He began to pace, trying to decide what to do about the sleeping arrangements.
Flambé sighed and rolled over onto her back to look up at the very high ceiling. “What is it, Sevastyan? I thought we were going to talk things out.”
She was going to talk things out with him, he wasn’t. But she was right. He was all for honesty. “I want you in this room with me at night, every night. We’re getting married as soon as possible and we share sleeping quarters.” He made that a firm statement. Her gaze shifted from his and she visibly winced but she didn’t argue.
“But?”
There could have been a note of amusement in her voice. He stopped pacing abruptly and swung around to face her again. She was back staring up at the ceiling. Now her hands were linked behind her head. She looked absolutely relaxed. Small. Her hair was still everywhere, as if it was untamable. The sight of it stirred the dominant in him. Or the leopard in him. It didn’t matter which. There was more to Flambé than was on the surface and he needed to be aware of that. He couldn’t take her for granted. Not for one moment. She was hiding herself from him.
This was a woman who frequently went overseas to find other strawberry leopards or leopards of other subspecies that were slowly becoming extinct. She exhibited no fear when she went into those lairs and explained her plans to the elders. She faced down poachers. Sevastyan had asked that she be investigated and she had been—thoroughly. In Africa and the Middle East, two different poaching factions who trafficked in animal parts and pelts had put out a reward for her death. Drake had known of her and her father long before Sevastyan had asked for a report.