“Depends on the prize, my lady,” he bowed.

“Choose.” You’re not going to win.

“You know what I want,” he spoke, his deep voice. As she shook her head, he bent and breathed in her ear, “Your ass. Two fingers, this time.”

She shuddered, uncertain, but forged on, “And if I win?”

“Choose,” he shrugged, confident. You’re not going to win.

She smiled mischievously at him, stood on her tiptoes and whispered back in his ear, “Your ass. One finger this time.”

Of course not. Alistair stood there transfixed by her proposition.

“Deal?” She tilted her head to the side, studying his face, and taunted, “Afraid, my lord?”

Aye. Not exactly a turn on for me, my lady. “But...” You know how to push my buttons, don’t you, Sophia? But you don’t know whom you’re dealing with. I’m the backgammon champion in the family. “Why don’t you chose another prize?” he smirked at her, schooling his features.

“Chicken,” she bit out softly.

Sophia. Don’t challenge me. He scowled down at her.

She shrugged, “You want mine, I’ll have yours.”

Difficult woman! “Best out of three?”

She nodded.

“But the prize won’t be collected tonight. I have other plans.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.” He stretched his hand to seal the deal. However the victorious smile that graced her face as she shook his hand, left him wondering if he had made the right choice.

The silence in the room was ominous. Alistair was unsettled. Sophia was a very good player. They were even and she was already winning the last game.

Sophia drank her whisky and rattled the dice in the leather cup, slowly, enjoying the tension. With a deft flick of her hand, she threw them on the center of the table and drummed her nails on the marble, studying the possibilities. She moved her checkers and left a blot with the deliberate intention of it being hit by Alistair, yielding his point.

“Tempt? When you are almost ready to bear off? You don’t need this.” Alistair lifted an ink-black eyebrow at her and she lifted one of hers back at him. “Are you sure?”

I want to win with backgammon. “Makes the game even more interesting.” She flashed her avenging angel smile at him. “I double the stakes,” she turned the doubling cube to two. And, wiggling her brows, put up two united fingers.

I’m calling your bluff, Sophia. “Take it. And beaver.” He turned the doubling cube from two to four, with a devious smile.

Sure of yourself, uh? You’re going to lose this game, Alistair Connor. “Ready for raccoon?” She picked up the cube, waiting for his answer.

Not bluffing? Hmm. He surveyed the table, licked his lips, uncertain, then nodded. She put it down with the eight facing up.

“How much was the initial bet?” Lachlann, who was perched on a chair beside Sophia, asked her.

Sophia bursted out laughing, embarrassed, and asked Alistair with her eyes as to what she should answer.

“We didn’t bet money,” he answered his father, cryptically.

“Roll your dice, Alistair Connor,” Tavish coached, hovering over Alistair’s shoulder. “This game is just getting interesting.”

Alistair rattled the dice in the cup and put it down on the table, praying for fours or fives, but a four-five would do too.

Sophia toed off one of her pumps and, with her stockinged foot, pushed up the hem of Alistair’s wool trousers, caressing his shin. He inhaled sharply and lost track of what he was doing, his eyes flying up to lock with hers. She had an amused look on her face.

“You praying?” she mocked, jutting her chin to the cup still turned upside down.

Tavish and Lachlann laughed.

And Alistair lifted the cup. The dices showed three-six. He huffed. No way back. I’m still on the bar.

Alice and Leonard, who had just finished their game, approached.

“What’s so funny?” Leonard asked, surveying the game board. “Oh, no! The mighty Alistair Connor is going to lose to a woman.”

An intelligent woman. “Leo, stop,” Alistair admonished.

Tavish pulled up a chair for Alice. “Sit, sis. This is too interesting to miss. They’re even. Best out of three.”

Leonard flanked Sophia as she picked up the dice and muttered quietly, “Doublet,” throwing them.

When they stopped, Alice swung her fist in the air and shouted, “Double deuces!”

“Changing sides, Sister?” Alistair grumbled.

“Maybe,” Alice smiled sweetly at him.

“You are doomed, Alistair Connor,” Lachlann chortled as Sophia moved her blot forward and bore off three checkers with a smug smile on her face. “Did you know, Sophia, that Alistair Connor rarely loses a game of backgammon?”

“Yeah?” She raised an elegant eyebrow. “There’s always a first time, Lachlann.”

You are enjoying this, aren’t you, Sophia? Wait until I show you what I have in store for tonight. “I haven’t lost yet, Father.”

The dice gave her the opportunity to close all her home board impeding Alistair’s entrance to the board. She smiled gently at Alistair, “Sorry, my dear.”

Alistair’s uneasiness grew as they played for a few more turns and Sophia kept steadily ahead of him.

Sophia rolled the dice three more times and bore off leaving two open points for Alistair to enter and move all his checkers on his own board, with a five-five.

Tavish pulled up a chair, sitting as he teased Alistair. “She’s going to win by gammon.”

“Only due to absurd luck,” he replied, and motioned to Sophia, unsmiling. “Your turn.” You are so going to choose another prize, Sophia.

“Now...” Sophia put her hand over the cup and brought it to her ear, closing her eyes and shaking it. She smiled as she felt Alistair’s foot moving up her calf, but it didn’t break her concentration. She put the cup down with determination, stating firmly, “Double sixes.” And motioned for Lachlann to lift the cup, “Please, Lachlann, do the honors.”

They all bent over the board as Lachlann carefully lifted the cup from the board. The dice showed six-six.

Sophia wanted to smile and gloat, but she schooled her features and said simply, “Gammon.”

I don’t believe it. Alistair gaped at her, “How did you do that?”

“Quoting you, absurd luck,” she shrugged, modestly.

Tavish slapped his brother on the shoulder, “Shame on you, Brother.”

“So, how much did you win, Sophia?” Leonard asked.

Alistair’s ass. “Leonard, you know I don’t bet money.” She rose from the chair and stretched, smiling mischievously. She walked to Alistair, hand extended to greet a fair opponent. “Thanks for the game.”

As they shook hands, Sophia murmured, “You must be wondering how you’re going to pay your debt.”

Alistair yanked her hand and she fell on his hard body, winding her arms around his waist. “You are playing with fire, Sophia.”

She threw her head back and laughed before whispering back to him, “But it’s you who will get burnt.”

Alistair shook his head, baffled. He didn’t even want to think about what Sophia planned to do.

11.36 p.m.

Damn! Sophia’s smiled waned as she exited the dressing room.

“What is that?” she asked, pointing at the riding crop lying on the bed next to four lengths of rope and a black scarf.

Alistair didn’t move from the armchair where he was finishing his Armagnac. He stretched his hand beckoning her to him. “Come sit by me. I want to explain something to you.”

He saw hesitation in her eyes as she stared at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, frozen in the middle of his huge bedroom. He looked her over and his cock applauded the black transparent wrap that left her long legs encased in shadows. Under it, she was wearing a black lace nightie that clung to her body like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. She whirled on her heels and walked to the bay window, pushing the curtain aside. The garden view didn’t soothe her fears, though.

“Trust me?”

Sophia jumped when Alistair spoke near her ear. She hadn’t heard his approaching footsteps.

He brushed her hair back and, grasping her chin in his hand, he tilted her head to the side so he could look into her eyes, “Can you do this? For me?”

That’s enough, Sophia. A slap or two, okay. But a crop? She squared her shoulders and breathed deep. “Alistair, I’m not Heather.” She was glad her voice was even because inside she was quivering. “I told you yesterday. I don’t like pain or violence. It doesn’t turn me on. If I do this for you, and it would be only because of your... predilection and for your... pleasure, and I’ll hate myself tomorrow.” She turned and searched his eyes. “Have you always been like this?”

Nae, I have not. His arms went around her body. “No, but... Please?”

She stiffened. “Don’t bring Heather into our bed.”

She’s right. A bitter taste filled his mouth. Will I ever be free? “Relax, Sophia. I’m not going to do it if you don’t like it.” His hands caressed her back and her hair gently. She’s trembling. Fuck, Alistair Connor. Don’t you learn from the mistakes you’ve made? “Shhh.”

“You scare the hell out of me sometimes, you know?” Sophia murmured, trying to put her thoughts in order. But the arms that enveloped her took away any coherence she tried to achieve. “I don’t understand. But I can try... Not in bed, but in theory, if you explain it to me.” She wound her arms around his waist, her hands searching for the warmth of his back. “You don’t need violence to feel pleasure. You respond to my touch and I’ve seen you climax many times without having to resort to that.” She gazed into his eyes and they were tortured. “Do you trust me?”

“Aye,” he breathed and squeezed her in his arms as he lowered his head to kiss her. She tastes sweet. Sweet and tempting. Just like she looks.

Alistair’s warmth blanketed Sophia as the kiss deepened and she let her fears ebb away. But she wouldn’t be deterred from her goal. She broke the kiss and asked on his lips, “I want to do something. Will you let me?”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment before whispering, “Anything.”

“All right.” She breathed deeply and pulled him by the hand. “Strip and lie down in the center of bed.”

He eyed her quizzically, but did as he was told, his eyes glued on her as she took off her wrap.

“Lie down,” she repeated the order and picked up the crop and ropes from the bed, putting them on the desk in the corner. When she returned to the bed, he was lying naked, propped on his elbows, watching her hungrily. His arousal evidenced his desire for her.

“Very well.” She paused at the end of the bed and pulled off her nightie. She bit her lip as she picked up the black scarf. She crawled on the bed and knelt beside him, showing the scarf. “You were going to use this as a blindfold, right?” He nodded. “Close your eyes, then.” She tied the blindfold and lightly pushed him back in the bed. “Lie down and don’t move. No matter what I do. Okay?”

“You can tie me up if you want.” He barely recognized the husky sound that left his throat.

“No. You will exercise your control. Don’t move and don’t touch me.”

“Aye,” he breathed. Aye, mistress.

She lightly put a fingertip in between his collarbones and moved it outward to his broad left shoulder. The tip of her tongue followed the dry caress.

Alistair suffered her slow exploration of his arms and chest. He held on to the sheets to stop his hands from grabbing Sophia and impaling her with his erection.

Fuck. My nipples. He moaned low as she grazed his nipples with her nails and lavished them with her tongue. Her hair caressed his abdomen making the muscles tense up.

“If you mean to torture me,” he gritted out, “you’re doing an excellent job of it.”

“Am I?” She placed her fingers over his collarbones again. She was deliberately teasing him. “I’m going to show you what pleasure really is.”

“Sophia.”

“If you move, I’ll start it all over again,” she threatened.

She worshipped and explored his body at a leisurely pace, making him delirious with desire. Every small inch of it received the attention of her fingers and tongue, but for his ignored cock that strained for her attention, arching up to his navel.

Too spellbound to do otherwise, Alistair simply lay there and endured the sweet torture, struggling to keep his climax at bay.