s*x Chained

Desires

Chapter 16

His eyes narrowed in thought. "I can't tell you, Nat, but I can show you." Chris held out his hand, beckoned for her to come to him once more. She hesitated, unsure about the situation; worse, herself.

Instead, she stood and turned away from him. "I don't laugh like other people. I laugh at myself because I am a joke. I have no life. I live in a box. I come out only to earn a living and then I retreat to my box once more. Why do I bother coming out at all? I don't know."

Chris chuckled softly. "Yes, you do. If you can think outside the box, you can live outside the box. I won't consider any more excuses. Come here, Nat."

When she decided to face him, she found her boss had disposed of his shirt. Her eyes traveled over every inch of his torso, took in the muscled limbs, the flat ridge of his abdomen, firm yet pliable, so masculine in his raw curves and hard muscles, yet feminine with a smooth, silk finish to his flesh.

Despite the caution she had developed over years of disappointment, Nat approached slowly, her eyes trained on his face rather than risk the awkward temptation of his body.

"How do I know you're not doing this as a way to free yourself and go for help?” she asked. “How do I know you're sincere in what you say? Men are known for their subterfuge when it comes to wanting s*x. They can't be trusted, and I don't know you well enough yet to judge your intentions. I don't know any man well enough to know what to do."

"Oh? You're right when you say you don't know me very well, and you'll just have to take your chances with me and hope my intentions are honorable." Chris smiled, as sincerely as his feelings would allow. "You have a choice, Nat. Either throw all that crap you suffered aside and let me to show you what a true relationship between a man and a woman is all about, or you can walk out now and think about it. Maybe let it gnaw away at you while you figure out what to do with me."

For a moment, Nat saw the boyishness in him, the simple, unadorned, candid Christian M. O'Connell before he grew up and practiced adult deception, especially the ability to tell a woman what she wanted to hear, truth or not. Should she allow her body to decide without the prejudices of her mind? Nat started forward, but hesitated yet again when his hands clasped hers, his so strong and masterful. When he finally managed to coax her closer and then down on the cot, she decided not to hesitate this time. Little mousy Natalie Blanchard had cast her die at last.

"Don't think," Chris coached her. "Don't rationalize. Allow your body to do the thinking for you."

He had taken Nat in his arms and urged her to relax. She began by running her fingertips along the smooth, cool surface of his arms and then his chest. When she felt more confident, she pressed further and kneaded his flesh. Chris responded with lightweight kisses along her neck. When he started on her throat, Nat sucked in her breath and savored the feel of his lips on her burning skin. She shivered violently when he pulled down the straps of her negligee until he slipped the bodice to her waist and exposed her breasts, now as vulnerable as her psyche to his touch.

Chris's subsequent caresses awakened something inside of her, a raw, fierce need. Nat took it out on him by grasping his face and crushing his mouth with her own hungry lips. When she surprised him with her own ferocity, he joined her wild prodding with teeth and tongues. Nat loved the taste of him, the mint from his toothpaste and the leftover hint of coffee. Combined with his sweet scent and the feel of his thick hair as she ran her fingers through, Nat found it a powerful remedy to conquer the last vestiges of her hesitation.

Chris brought her down to the comforter and eased them both prone along the bed. For this time only, he forgot about the chain around him and how it held him accountable for what he did now, was about to do. His hand skimmed the valley of her breasts, then beneath the negligee fabric until he discovered the first silken hairs of her pubic mound. Emboldened with his own need, he tugged and pulled Nat's nightie up and away.

At first she covered herself with her hands, but his expression, his gaze helped to melt away her reserve. She slowly allowed Chris to clear away the obstacles; and with sublime appreciation, he regarded her nude body as she stretched out again. He took in the rounded curves and soft pink flesh, the perfect-sized breasts and the copious thatch of tawny hair between her long, shapely legs. It would take all his reserve to hold back as he taught her the intricacies of passion; but as he unzipped his pants and started to pull them down along with his boxers, Chris remembered he could not take them off completely if he remained imprisoned.

"Nat, would you consider," he started to ask in his low, soothing voice, "freeing me for a moment so I can undress. I promise not to bolt."

Her hand went automatically to the key around her neck and she fingered it in thought. If she didn't trust him now she never would. Making up her mind, Nat sat up and told him to place his foot on the bed. When Chris complied, she undid her necklace, fit the little key in the lock and turned it until she heard the click of release, then pulled away the metal bracelet.

"By the way, where did you find this contraption?" Retracting his foot, Chris held up the ankle restraint and then tugged at the chain. "It's not something they sell at Wal-Mart."