Free Restraint by Debra Glass

not felt in years churned inside him. Indecision. Guilt. Desire. Something else he dared not name. Something elusive. Something that made his insides feel as if he were stuffed full of butterflies.
    Lydia appeared in the doorway and he cut his gaze toward her wordlessly. “She’s eaten her supper, my lord. Would you have me restrain her again?”
    Thomas shook his head, regretting the action even as he did it. He wanted nothing more than to spend another night in Catherine’s bed, in her arms. He wanted nothing more than to sink into her sweetness, to rip the blindfold from her eyes and watch her face as ecstasy swept over and through her.
    “No. Not tonight,” he said softly.
    “Very well.” Lydia curtsied and turned.
    “Lydia,” Thomas called.
    “Yes, my lord?”
    “What has she been doing?”
    Lydia cleared her throat and Thomas watched as color infused her pale cheeks. “She’s been playing with that little toy you gave her, my lord. I walked in on her when I took in her supper.”
    A smile curved his lips as he imagined her naked, both hands furiously thrusting the dildo in and out of her succulent little cunny . His cock swelled against the constraints of his trousers. Goddamn, he wanted to fuck her.
    “Will there be anything else?”
    He lifted the crystal shot glass and stared at it once more. “Yes. Have Addison saddle Storm. And then tell him he’s dismissed for the rest of the evening.”
    * * * * *
    Catherine stood blindfolded in her room, her heart rioting as she awaited Thomas. Finally, he was coming for her. What would they do? Would he kiss her—there—again? Would he slip his fingers inside her? Would he suckle her breasts?
    Would he make love to her?
    Her cunny clenched at the thought.
    A little knock sounded on the door before it opened. A wide smile claimed Catherine’s lips. She could already smell his clean, spicy fragrance. He had recently bathed. She wrinkled her nose. There was something else—the faint hint of whiskey.
    She held open her arms and at once he enveloped her in a hug. She could feel him against her, ensconcing her. With his broad shoulders and long legs, his body was so much bigger than hers. Her head barely came up to the breadth of his chest. She’d known he was tall but had never guessed he was a giant. She’d never stood toe to toe with him before.
    Slipping her leg up his, she noticed he was wearing boots. Her hands roamed over his clothing and found soft doeskin riding breeches and a voluminous shirt. Had he been riding? He didn’t smell of horses.
    “I thought you’d never come,” she said, her voice but a breath as she tilted her head back.
    His lips found hers, hard and hungry, yet still supple and gentle. How could he control such contrasting sensations? She opened for his tongue, tasting the remnants of minty tooth powder mingled with the woody redolence of fine whiskey. His hands drifted over her shoulders, down her back, over the contours of her buttocks, around to brush the curls between her thighs, one hand coming up to possessively cup a breast. Catherine moaned into his mouth and pressed herself more fully into his hand.
    All she could think about was fucking him.
    Finally, he tore his mouth away from hers, his kisses brushing the blindfold and then her forehead. “I want to take you somewhere,” he said.
    Her heart hammered. Where could he possibly take her?
    His fingers entwined with hers and he tugged her hand. She hesitated. She could not leave this room. Not naked and blindfolded.
    He seemed to sense her reticence. “It’s all right, Catherine. The servants have been dismissed.”
    “But—”
    “Come with me, love.”
    She melted at his term of endearment and allowed him to guide her out of the bedroom. There was something almost sinful about walking out into the hall naked.
    His arm slipped around her waist. “Be careful. We’re going down the stairs.”
    Blindly, she groped for the banister but with Thomas’ arm around her, she