Free Inside the Lines: Without a Trace series, a contemporary erotic romance novel by Ally Bishop

an act of appraising him. He closes his eyes as I trail a hand down his arm, then follow a path across his flat stomach, within an inch of his erection. I walk a circle around him, enjoying his perfect stillness, the way the candlelight plays over the planes and hollows of his skin. I keep him off balance with light touches and pause to enjoy the perfection that is his ass. Trust me—it’s worthy of worship. He starts when I press a kiss to his smooth back, unable to resist.
    I return to face him, and his eyes are closed, his mouth relaxed. Dear God. I have to mentally smack myself to stay focused.
    “Lie down on the bed.”
    He obeys, and I reach for the ties that are always at the four corners of my queen-size bed. They are soft black rope, easily knotted and released, and I bind all four limbs. Then I stand back to examine my handiwork. There is nothing quite like a gorgeous man bound. Particularly Fin. He has his eyes closed again, breathes steadily, and even when I move around the room, he doesn’t twitch. I strip out of my clothing, leaving my black satin bra and g-string in place.
    When I settle onto the mattress, he turns his head towards me with a lazy smile, admiring my body. “If this is as bad as it gets, I think I’ll be fine.”
    I offer him a deadpan expression, but inside, I might have melted a bit. Nonetheless, I hold up a crop, its leather end soft as butter from years of use. “If you were a client, I’d start with this.” I drag the soft leather along his torso.
    He drops his head back to the pillow, steeling himself against laughing. “That tickles.”
    “It wouldn’t if I was using it properly.”
    “Aye, well…where would ye normally apply it?”
    “Back of the legs,” I say, slapping the top of his thigh lightly. “Ass. Back.” Very lightly, I tap it against his straining length. “Cock.”
    He blows out a breath. “I think I’ll skip the flagellation, if that’s okay with ye, Mistress.”
    I chuckle, despite my determination to stay in character. “We’re playing, Fin. I’m not going to hurt you,” I raise an eyebrow, “yet.”
    Tucking the crop behind me, I reveal a lone peacock feather.
    He grins. “Aye, ye’re definitely going easy on me.”
    “You say that now.” I smirk, then lay the feather lightly against his skin.
    He shivers, pulling against the restraints. “Ye might have a point.”
    I tease him, dragging the light fringe over his shoulders, his forearm, and taking an agonizingly slow route to his cock. He tries to stay still, but between the tickling plume and the super sensitive areas, he struggles between laughter and sighs of pleasure.
    When I swirl the feather over his swollen head, he exhales heavily, fighting a smile of pleasure.
    “How does that feel?”
    He opens his mouth to answer, but I don’t let up. Pulling hard against the ropes, his back arches.
    “It seems I might have found your poison.”
    I torture him a bit more, enjoying his inability to hold still, before I abandon the feather in favor of more involved pleasures. He watches me, and I find myself reveling in his appreciation of my body. I uncurl slowly, then settle between his legs. When my fingers follow the curve of his thick cock, my bed shakes with his strain.
    “God, Lux, ye’re killin’ me.”
    “I’m sorry—who are you speaking to?” I withdraw my touch.
    His gaze centers on me as he spits out through gritted teeth. “ Mistress. ”
    I bite back my grin and don’t respond, but continue the agonizingly slow caress, until I take him in my mouth. Flicking my tongue against his aroused skin, his hips shift with my rhythm. Between his width and length, I can’t take him all in, but he groans when he presses against the back of my throat.
    When he’s shaking with need, I withdraw, sitting back on my heels.
    He opens one eye. “Goddamn ye, woman. Untie me.”
    I offer him a sly smile. “That’s not how this works, Mr. MacKenzie. First, you never address me without saying