her core made her want to strip off her every inhibition, made her feel more alive than ever before.
And she could embrace this now, or she could do what she’d always done. What she’d done before Aden. Before her life had changed forever. Or she could keep going forward.
She wrapped the silk around her hand, as he had done earlier, and let herself enjoy his body visually for a moment. Her breasts ached, a hard pulse beating at the apex of her thighs.
She knew about sex. She knew about it in a complete and scientific way, and she had seen it. Seen her parents during their “good” moments, when passion still ruled everything else.
But this really was a science experiment in many ways. A way to have him, while keeping him in a controlled condition. A way to harness his power, to experience it without setting it free.
“Lie back,” she said, not quite recognizing her own voice. “And put your hands behind your head.”
He complied, his movements slow, fluid, his dark eyes never leaving hers. He lay on his back, arms stretched above his head, each ridge of muscle clearly defined, each indrawn breath drawing attention to the perfect definition of his body.
“Are you sure you want to...to do this?”
“I am at your mercy,” he said, black eyes unreadable.
She looked at him, looked into eyes that had seen such horror. “I swear to you,” she said, “I won’t do anything you don’t want, either.” It sounded silly, telling this big, strong man that she would take care of him. But she needed to say it. Needed him to know.
He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. She sucked in a breath and kneeled down on the edge of the bed, inching toward the center, toward him. She leaned over, then paused. “Kiss me?”
He complied, lifting his head and sliding his tongue over her lips, delving between them. She kissed him back, pouring her hunger, her anger, her fear, into this one act, giving him everything, everything she’d been carrying around inside of herself for so long.
They parted, their breathing harsh. She rested her forehead against his while she worked at getting her heart rate into a steady pace. She took the white scarf, wrapped the end of it around the bedpost, then wrapped the other end around his wrist, making sure the fabric rested flat against his skin.
“Is that okay?” she asked.
He tested the bonds. “Yes,” he said, his voice strained. “Now the other one.”
She repeated the action with the other bedpost and his other hand. “Test it?” He did, and the restraints held tightly. “Too much?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No.”
She let out a long breath and looked at the man spread out before her. Yes, he could get up if he wanted to, could walk away. And that was important to her. Because even though she wanted the control, she didn’t require total domination. She would never become what she despised.
“And now?” she asked.
“Whatever you want.” And that was when she saw his need. His need for her to take the control, if only for a while. To lift the burden of it. To tie his hands and give him something other than the pain that life had offered him.
Which was just perfect, because, here and now, this was exactly what she needed.
“I don’t know where to begin.” She placed her hand flat on his chest, his skin hot beneath her palm. She’d never touched a man like this, had never explored the musculature of the male body.
Her fingers trembled as she slid them over his pecs, over his nipple. She swallowed hard. This was an experiment. Her chance to become familiar with a man’s physical anatomy.
Yes, she could detach herself. Put it there, in the cerebral realm where things were logical and safe. She was a scientist. She was curious. And tonight, she would follow her curiosity where it took her.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
Science wasn’t about emotion. It wasn’t about fear. It was about finding facts. And that was what she was doing. Collecting facts.
“You’re very...strong,” she said, fingertips sliding over his abs. “In top physical condition.”
He chuckled, the sound hoarse. “Am I?”
“Yes.” She encountered scar tissue along his abdomen. “Oh...Sayid. You have scars.”
“Lots of them,” he said, and she knew he didn’t just mean on his skin.
“You healed well,” she whispered. At least on the outside. “If they were as severe as they appear to be.”
“They were. And more.”
“Yes. You’re very strong.” Stronger than any