THIRTY-THREE
Faced with Philemon in all his n***d glory, completely at her mercy...for the first time, Anahita felt shy.
She unfastened the cuffs at her wrists, letting them tinkle to the floor, followed by her belt, and finally the ankle cuffs. n***d and unarmed, her breathing short and ragged, she crossed the cushions until she stood before him.
Anahita took a deep breath, then took his face in her hands. She stretched up even as he yielded to her, and their lips met. Even before her lips parted, he stole her breath, so tender was his kiss. She could kiss him all night.
And yet...her heels dropped to the floor, so she looked up at him longingly. "I'm afraid," she whispered.
Her traitorous body reminded her what showing fear had done in the past – her body, flying through the air
