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of her hands pressed into the chaise. The fact that her bound hands elevated her hips and offered her pussy to him was just a nice bonus. She pressed her legs together as she stared up at him mutinously, but he wasn’t after the slick heat between her legs. Instead he straddled her waist, keeping his weight on his knees to avoid hurting her hands, and reached behind the cushion to retrieve a pair of nipple clamps.
    “You were busy before I came upstairs,” she said, but he didn’t miss the shiver that skittered over her skin when he dropped them on her stomach. He didn’t respond, just cupped one breast in his palm. Her nipple hardened before his eyes but he massaged the soft flesh, bent and licked the tip, then blew on it gently before compressing the reddened tip between the vinyl-coated ends of the clamp. He adjusted the tension until she bit her lower lip and arched her back. Perfect. Just past staying on but not to the point of pain.
    The chain between the two clamps slithered across her breastbone as he repeated the process on her other nipple. Natalie’s mouth opened on a soft whimper and her eyes dropped closed. He flicked his tongue over each swollen tip then nuzzled his way up to her collarbone, nudging the chain upwards with his tongue. He took it between his teeth, kissed his way up her throat to her chin, then her lips.
    They were soft, hot, and open, allowing nearly inaudible pants to escape. He let the chain slip from his mouth into hers. “Hold this for me,” he commanded.
    The chain came to rest at the corners of her parted lips. “What?” she said.
    Forming the word tugged gently at her clamped nipples. She moaned and writhed under him, her whole body tensing beautifully around this new restraint. He kissed his way back down her arched neck, surveyed his handiwork, then stroked the soft undercurves of her breasts. “Are you listening, sweetheart?”
    The garbled words were almost unintelligible as she tried not to torment her tender breasts, but he was pretty sure she’d gasped You bastard! as she squirmed under him again. To emphasize her resistance she crossed her legs, but he just smiled as he straddled her hips. Firelight danced across the curve of her breasts, undulating into the dip at her waist, then her soft thighs, tightly clamped together. He started with her breasts, gently squeezing the soft flesh, massaging sensation into the tips. A few not-quite-gentle pats to the soft fullness made her moan, shudder, and go limp. The trick was to make her want the heat, to dissolve her from the inside out. He kissed every quivering inch of her breasts, scraped his five o’clock shadow along the undersides, flicked his tongue around the clamps...and felt her thighs press against his knees briefly before she pressed her legs together again.
    Natalie put up a good fight. Italian to the bone, she brought her best game to everything in life—work, their marriage, sex—and she’d brought her best game to fighting the heat between them. It was a fight she couldn’t win. At the first sign of weakness in her defenses he left her well-tended breasts and kissed his way down her torso to her belly button, then to her clasped thighs. Reaching under her body he withdrew the trailing end of the rope and began to draw the tassel along the seam between her legs.
    Her wordless whimper marked the edge of surrender, the long muscles in her thighs trembling with each stroke of the tassel. He wasn’t fighting to beat her at a game. He was playing for their marriage and their future together, and he wasn’t going to lose.
    Stroking the ends of the tassels against the tiny inverted triangle at the juncture of her thighs proved most devastating. Tightly held muscles shuddered, then eased open slightly. He took advantage, dipping his tongue into the very top of her pussy, tasting wet heat before she closed up again. With a grin he went back to teasing her, stroking the tassel to its furthest reach along her thighs,