Gasping, Brielle pulled her hands away and turned her attention to the same ornate footboard. Several types of cuffs were on the spokes there as well. She found herself blushing and just like that her body had gone damp. Hopping off the bed as though it had burned her, she backed away from it. Every time she thought she was safe from thinking about Elie and sex, she found herself totally consumed by the thought.
It had been their wedding night. Elie had been as hard as a rock. No man had that hard of an erection without wanting sex. She’d been exhausted. That had to mean he would be eager to consummate their marriage at any time. That thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. The terror only added to the thrill. Everything about Elie Archambault had always garnered intense emotions in her.
She abandoned scouting out the room and made her way to the master bath. She remembered it being very spacious from the evening before. Her wedding dress was no longer on the floor. She didn’t remember picking it up. She wasn’t a neat freak, but she was someone who kept a clean house and didn’t expect others to wait on her or pick up after her.
Elie’s scent lingered in the master bath, where he’d clearly showered earlier. There was no escaping him. She stepped into the large shower stall, designed for two people. She was able to figure out the silver faucets and all the jets positioned for a much taller person. Her favorite shower gel, shampoo and conditioner were there.
Brielle’s heart gave an odd little twist in her chest. Elie must have put away her things while she slept. Had he put everything away? A hot blush seared her cheeks at the thought of Elie unpacking her suitcases and discovering the things she’d brought with her. She should have checked the closet and drawers before she stepped under the water. She hurried to finish showering and washing her hair, and had barely dried off before wrapping her hair in a towel and rushing back into the master bedroom.
The large walk-in closet held her dresses and skirts, all hung neatly on one side. Elie’s suits and shirts hung on the other side. The closet could fit two rooms of her apartment easily inside it. She resisted touching Elie’s shirts, but couldn’t help the little flutter of excitement at the sight of his clothes hanging in such close proximity to hers.
Her shoes and boots were on a rack, not that she had very many pairs. She didn’t spend her money on shoes. She had a pair for work, a pair for riding shadows and her cute boots for going out. That was pretty much the extent of her shoe collection. She approached the drawers in the dresser with slow steps. She couldn’t say the same about her lingerie. If there was one place she spent too much money, it would be there.
She stood in front of the dresser and opened the top drawer slowly. Sure enough, her lacy boy shorts were stacked neatly. The lavender cachets were even placed neatly inside the drawer with them. She peeled the pale blue silky ones from the top and pulled them up her legs and over her hips. Her blue jeans were in the third drawer down. She chose one of the oldest pairs because they were soft and molded to her figure immediately.
The carved wooden box on top of the dresser was intriguing, and after donning a lacy bra, she flipped open the box and just stood there staring at the contents. A gasp escaped and she stepped back, even as a flood of damp heat sent her into another dangerous spin of need. Her toys. She had brought several with her, choosing to be daring, determined that she would start her new life with confidence as a sexual partner to an adventurous man.
The blush spread over her entire body. There were more toys in the wooden chest than she’d purchased. She wasn’t certain what a couple were or even how they were used. Lying right on top of the numerous toys was a note written in a neat, masculine scrawl. She took it out to read it.
Mon petit jouet très sale, you will no longer play alone with these toys. Until we are playing together and I am calling you mon petit jouet très sale, and give you permission, you will not touch them. I will decide when you may use them.
He was calling her “my dirty little sex toy.” The blush deepened all over her body. She thrust the note back into the box and slammed the lid down. Why in the world did she go hot all over at the thought of him calling her his dirty little sex toy in person? Or directing her to use one of the toys while he watched? Or him using one of them on her? She wanted him to talk dirty to her. She needed him to. It was a craving she would never get over. She really was in trouble once he found out how responsive she was just at the thought of him commanding her.
The worst of it was, she didn’t just want kinky sex with him. That wouldn’t be enough for her. She knew that. She knew she’d be in trouble right away. She already was. That was why the things her sister said about him had hurt so much. Hastily pulling out a very feminine pale peach fitted blouse with tiny pearl buttons, she quickly donned her pair of boots and made her way out of the bedroom to explore the house and get herself a cup of coffee.