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Grace hit her peak hard and fast, her thighs clenching around his fingers, a strangled cry forced from her throat. He kept going until she collapsed against him, her chest heaving. He pulled her tight against him, ignoring the throb in his balls.
“I thought…” She was a little breathless, her voice tremulous. “I thought you’d want to”—she looked away, the skin of her throat darkening with a flush—“do the kind of things you do to women in that…in your room.”
He nuzzled her hair. “Do you want me to do the things I do in my playroom to you, Grace?”
She hesitated, and he held his breath. She gave him a barely perceptible nod.
Triumph roared through his body with the force and speed of an avalanche. “Tonight?”
Another tight nod.
Alain wanted to punch his fist in the air. He wanted to howl. Instead, he planted a soft kiss against her forehead. “Then I will.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grace stood, wrapped in a large, soft towel, at the end of the four-poster bed so big you’d need Google Maps to find your way around it. In front of her were Alain’s…toys. A set of leather restraints and a blindfold. An odd metal bar with additional restraints—she had no idea what it was for. A vibrator, long and thick. Like Alain. She turned her head, listening to him dry off, her body still tingling. A tube of lubricant. She rubbed the top of one foot with the bottom of the other, unable to stem her nerves. And at the end, the thing that concerned her the most. She clutched the towel closer about her shoulders. A black whip.
“Grace.” Alain tugged on the corner of the bath towel. “Let go.”
It took all her willpower to unclench her hands and let him tug it from around her body.
He tossed both towels aside and closed in on her, curling his finger beneath her chin and tilting her head up. “We can stop at any time. If you’re feeling uncomfortable, if you’re in pain, if you’re scared, if it gets too much, or you simply want to stop, we stop. Do understand me, Grace? No matter what we’re doing, if we’re in the middle of something, if I’m about to orgasm, you want to stop, we stop. Oui?”
If you’re in pain. Grace side-eyed the whip. She must be mad. Who in their right mind would find this…erotic? And yet, as she stood there, both of them naked, wavering on the edge of a precipice, she wasn’t shying away. She was eager. Like this was some sort of grand adventure. The same thrill skipping through her veins as when she’d defied her mother and taken off for San Francisco. Like a whole new and exciting world was opening up for her.
“Grace?”
She swallowed, her mouth a little dry, then took a deep breath and nodded.
He tapped her chin. “Words, Grace. I need you to be clear about this. Do you understand that we can stop any time you want to?”
“Y-yes.”
“Good girl. Now give me a safe word. A word that you’ll remember.”
“I…” What word would she remember? Her first dog’s name? The name of the street she’d once lived on? Her favorite fruit?
“How about the word red? Like a traffic light. Nice and simple.”
Red. Yes, she could remember that.
“If you say the word red, I’ll stop. No questions asked. No shame. Oui?”
“Oui.” She nodded. “Yes.”
“And if I ask you if you’re good, and you want to continue, you say green.”
“Red for stop. Green for go.” Her words were breathy and strange to her ears.
He smiled. “D’accord.” He turned her to face the bed, where his toys were laid out in front of her.
Alain reached around her and picked up the vibrator, placing it in her hand and wrapping his hand around hers. “I think you know what this is.”
Yes, but…she’d never owned one. Never touched one. It was hard, and yet with a strangely soft external covering. He turned it on and she almost dropped it.
Alain switched it off and pried it from her shaking hand then tossed it on the bed. He picked up the tube of lube. “And this.”
With a practiced flick of his thumb, he had the lid off, holding the tube up to her nose. It had a faint, sweet smell.
