“Is this what you want, Maya?” He arched his hips up, using his hold to drag his cockhead along my wetness. I groaned and tried to dip down, but he dug the nails of his other hand into my ass cheek.
“Please. Yes...”
Dean slipped his tip inside. I closed my eyes and tensed my shoulders, my fingers curled around the top of my headboard while I tried to circle my hips. He kept rubbing my sex with the swollen head of his dick, letting the rim of it tease my entrance in subtle pulses that racked up my nerves. When he lifted his other hand to my ass to hold me in place, I shivered.
“Don’t you dare drop down, vixen. You’ve been too, too bad...”
“You tease!”
“You bet.” Dean smacked my ass again, and I squealed.
“God, yes...”
“Again?”
“Please.”
The firm grip of Dean’s left hand on my ass cheek would leave marks—a thought that made me swirl my hips again, trying to gain more friction on the sweet cock he’d anchored in me. I opened my eyes to find him smiling before he clamped his palm on my ass to spur me on.
“Fuck!”
“More?”
I lifted my head in furious bobs, charged by his tease, the fullness of the head of his cock and the sensation firing through my pelvis with the next slap of his hand. Heat arced across my ass cheek, and this uneven feeling blossomed when he took another hit, then another. “God, Dean!”
His eyes narrowed, his lips pinched. This was getting to him, too. He rolled up his hips and sank slightly farther in, piercing my sex and creating the sexiest view when I glanced down. His next smack made me cry out.
“More! Please, fuck me...”
Dean caved. He jerked me down on top of him, his cock reaching my depths in a heavy thrust before he slapped my ass once more. I moaned, an onslaught of arousal tearing through my core as he started lifting me up and slamming me down on him. His cock stretched me open in deep thrusts, and when he broke every few pumps to clap his palm on my ass cheek in a jarring, delicious spank, I felt myself starting to untether, stars filling my gaze and ecstasy tickling my senses.
“Too good. Oh my God.” I clawed the headboard, trying to take a deep grind on him and overwhelmed as his hand struck my ass cheek while Dean filled me up.
“Christ, you’re like silk inside... I can feel you clenching on me, Maya.” He smacked again. I wailed. “Come for me, sexy.”
“Yes!” The word came as a scream to his next strike. My body sailed, the wave of pleasure so intense I could hardly breathe, and Dean plunged in. He grabbed my hips and held me tight in his grind up within me, his panting breath becoming a series of wicked grunts. With my face numb, my mind whirling and the desperate look twisting his mouth when he came inside, I quivered atop him, my orgasm shattering my world into a million pieces. “Oh, yes!”
“Christ, Maya, yes!” Dean stayed deep, his pelvis lifted off my bed and his cock throbbing within me. Both of us shuddered, our breaths wild. I rested my cheek on my outstretched arm, barely able to stay upright save for the hold on my headboard until Dean lowered his hips. His softened cock slipped out fast, but I rested on him, savoring the mess of our juices smashed between us as we stared at one another.
“Fuck,” I said. “Just...fuck.”
Dean sat up, his movement pulling my torso from the headboard and against his chest as he wove his arms around my waist. He kissed my breasts and the bottom of my chin with a shake of his head. “My sentiments exactly.”
I melted into him. “Keep me close. All to yourself.”
“I will. Always, Maya. Always.”
We held each other, our hearts eventually slowing before we opted to get up for a shower.
Chapter Seventeen
“You two lovebirds will make it back for the barbecue, right?” Alex asked.
Selby snorted while Alex shot me a look over the envelope he was wetting at the far end of the coffee table. We’d formed a three-person assembling machine in our huddle on the couch; Selby cinched the layers of their wedding invitations with a cinnamon-colored ribbon, I handled the addressing with my neatest penmanship and Alex stuffed both the invitations and RSVP cards into envelopes he promptly sealed and stacked in a box at his feet. We’d been through a movie and a bottle of wine, a stretch of time long enough that the current envelope I wrote on felt like the millionth one I’d tackled. Though, by my estimation, it was only about the fiftieth.
Of one hundred fifty.
“We’ll be back Sunday afternoon, so it’s a sure thing. I wouldn’t miss your annual barbecue. It’s a tradition!”
“So sentimental,” Selby said. She gave my leg a rub after tying down the next invite, stacking it on the mountain of them we’d built in front of Alex. He tried not to scoff when the weight tipped all of them over like a pile of dominoes on the coffee table.
I chuckled. “It’s true. But God, I’m excited for tomorrow.”
“I bet you are.” Alex whistled, and Selby rolled her eyes.
She said, “Explain it to me again—I’m sailing inept. You can’t stay on Angel Island?”
“Nope. It’s not allowed. But we’ll moor in Ayala Cove, then paddle in. And sleep on the boat overnight. Doesn’t that sound fun?” I’d been enthralled over the little bits Dean had told me about our anniversary trip to cruise over the bay, followed by a tour of the island—from hiking the trail up to the summit, where we’d be able to see a wide span of the bay, to checking out the mini museum they had on site. Dean had also promised a beautiful sunset on the water, with some supposed surprise he wouldn’t even hint at along the way.
“Sun, water, sex. Maya’s thrilled,” Alex said.
Selby clapped her palms to her cheeks, and I peered at him. “One day, our little Selby won’t be so bashful.”
“Good luck with that,” she said.
Alex chuckled. “Well, you and Dean’ll have fun.”
“Oh, I’ve no doubt we will.”
“Stop. Stop there.” Selby shoved over another stack of invites she’d finished ribboning. “You two are out of wine. More?”
“Please,” Alex and I chimed. We handed our glasses over and he caught Selby’s hand before she left. He tugged her in for a kiss.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” She beamed on her way into the kitchen, and Alex grabbed another envelope with a groan. “Why didn’t we get Dean over here to help with these, again?”
“I heard that!” Selby shouted from the other room.
“I’m serious!”
“You have the easy job—and don’t forget, you get the girl.” I knocked him in the shoulder.
“Good point.”
Selby’s laughter carried her out from the kitchen with three full glasses, and for the next hour we plugged on through, not quite finishing the invitations before I left at ten. Nonetheless, they were both appreciative when I hugged them and scurried out the door. I had to get my ass in bed for my early morning wakeup to meet Dean. The last couple of months between us had been fantastic, which was why our trip planned tomorrow had me bouncing off the walls with glee. His text before I’d left their house hadn’t hurt to excite me, either.
Looking forward to our anniversary adventure together, Maya. Be sure to get some rest. You’ll need it. X—Dean
Funny how a year later, he could still make my heart skip a beat—but that was exactly what happened as I flipped off my lights and tried to calm myself for sleep.
* * *
Dean had picked me up at nine sharp with the most sensual, decadent kiss before we’d left for the charter club in Alameda, and not all that much later, we’d set sail, Dean moving around and working the engine, sails and rope like he’d never spent a day on land. Right away, he’d shown me how to let sails loose and tie them off, wrapping me up in the magnificent
experience of enjoying the shifting water and wind from the dock out to the bay, and in getting to participate, too.
Along the trip, we’d passed by tons of other boaters celebrating Memorial Day weekend like we were, and our journey switched as easily from gentle and warm with mellow ripples below, to swooping, cold air that rustled my hair around my face and caught the sails to tip the boat at an angle. But Dean steered us through while I lapped up the view of land and the bridges in all directions until we got into the cove around lunch. A plethora of other ships decorated the sweep of calm water, everyone here for the nature preserve that loomed ahead. After Dean motored us in to park, we’d grabbed fish sandwiches by one of the docks. Then we’d spent the next several hours roaming the island hand in hand. We passed oak and pine trees, eucalyptus, manzanita and many other plants on our way up to the summit, where the panoramic view of San Francisco had served as a beautiful backdrop to our ongoing conversation.
Somewhere on the way down, Dean said, “If I were to take a trip back to see my parents in the next year, would you want to go with me?”
The joy that must’ve filled my face led us into the bushes for a frisky makeout for long enough that when he drew away, he took a hard swat of my ass and flashed me a mischievous grin.
“Come on. We should head back. Sunset’s soon.”
“We’ve got hours till then!”
Dean grabbed my hand. “We have some things to take care of beforehand.”
He didn’t elaborate on the way back to shore or even when we climbed on deck, instead rubbing his hand along my side, making it easy to ignore the sounds of the boaters not far away from us. While they walked on the surface of their own vessels or sat around to luxuriate in the glow of the late spring sky, I savored the smile on his lips and the lift of his scar beneath the scruff of his cheek before he kissed the side of my face.
“We can’t see sunset from this side of the island, so we’ll have to motor around to do that. Maybe we can eat the dinner we brought over there?” I nodded at his suggestion, enthusiastic, and he continued, “For now, I want to share a surprise with you.”
“Twist my rubber arm,” I said, thrilled by the sound of his voice and the gentle bob of the water under us in our tether to the mooring.
The naughtiest sparkle lit up his eyes as he took my hand. He led me over to the stairs and into our cabin until we’d almost reached the bed at the bow of the ship, then paused me a few inches away from it with a steady grasp of my wrist. “Right here. But kick off your shoes, and don’t sit down. Close your eyes, okay?”
“Okay.”
I shut my eyes, happy we’d taken this trip and alert to the sound of Dean opening a zippered bag. When he came back, he stood in front of me, the smell of sweat that had dried on his body after our hike overpowered by the natural smell of him I loved. I breathed it in while he stood there, the weight of his stare over my closed lids starting the subtlest wobble in my knees, heightened by the shifts of the boat. Once Dean finally reached out for me, he started unsnapping my life vest.
“Don’t I need that?” I said, my eyes still closed.
“It’ll be near enough. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
He kissed me, his fingers stripping away my vest, then unbuttoning the thin, long-sleeved overshirt I’d worn above my bikini top during our hike. Dean pecked my neck before he stripped that away, too, but he didn’t bother with my top, or the palazzo pants that covered my bikini bottoms.
“Stick out your hands.”
I extended my wrists. Dean took one of my hands, surprising me with the drag of rope across my skin. The rough texture along the soft underside of my wrist blasted a shiver over my naked flesh with the speeding of my heart. “Something tells me I’m going to like this.”
“I hope you do. No peeking, though, okay?”
“I won’t.”
Slowly, he wound the rope around my wrist in multiple loops before tucking one end under the coils. The wrap was snug, but not too tight, and when he finished, he lifted my arm to stretch it out to the side. I felt a few tugs and heard the slip of rope along a surface before the gritty sound that made my groin flex—coils getting tied off, but instead of right above my head, an arm’s-length away.
“What are you doing?” I said, my eyebrows drawn.
“You’ll see.” Dean pulled again to secure me in place, leaving my arm outstretched and my elbow slightly bent. He came back to graze my stomach in a tempting stroke. “Keep them closed, love.”
I dug my bare toes into the floor. “I will.” I focused on the brush of his skin on mine, then the rope coiling around my other wrist. Like before, he stretched my arm out in the opposite direction, and shivers danced down my sides, my imagination beginning to work over whatever he’d planned. I heard the unsnapping of his life vest and the rustle of his clothes as he must’ve peeled them off his body. When he pressed his naked chest to mine, he slid his hands up my back and untied my top. His motion stayed so measured that I trembled, the tiny triangles and strings whisking across my skin until he lifted my bikini top over my head and bared my breasts to him. I bit down on my tongue. Dean traced his fingertips down my sternum, and as he swayed his fingers back and forth beneath the waistband of my pants, my nipples sharpened into stiff peaks.
“Can I look yet?” I asked.
Dean’s answer was a quick bend to suck one of my nipples into his mouth, drawing a heavy inhalation from me. He curved his hand around my other breast before swapping sides. I gasped at his sudden retreat while he kissed down my stomach and across my waist, and when the tease of his voice came low, the utterance tickled my ears. “Not yet, kitten.” Tucking his fingers beneath the hem of my pants, he yanked them down to my ankles in one swift motion.
I tugged against the ropes that kept my arms outstretched while he guided me to step out of them, and after, he pressed his mouth against the damp fabric of my bikini bottom to breathe a heavy burst of air over me. “Oh, God,” I moaned. Dean chuckled against me, untying the strings that held the fabric in place. Once it fell away and I stood completely exposed, he slipped his fingertips between my thighs. “How do you do that to me?”
“What?”
“Arouse me like this. Put me this on edge.”
“Get you this wet?” He swept his fingertips between my folds. I tilted my head, hating that I couldn’t see him but loving the way he played. I whimpered at the slick of his fingers back and forth. “Spread your legs, gorgeous.”
I took one step out, my feet shoulder width apart until Dean tapped the inside of my thigh.
“More. I want you wide. And you’re going to stay that way a while, all right?”
The darkness behind my eyelids drove me mad, but tingles washed over me to match the excitement flooding my sex. I scooted my feet farther out along the hardwood floor. Dean’s face was close enough to my cunt I sensed the wet promise of his mouth, and I wiggled my fingers in my outstretched pose, the wait stirring my heartbeat up more.
Dean said, “Now you can open your eyes.”
It was difficult to contain the waiver of my breath when I settled my eyes on him. He crouched naked on the floor, his cock rigid and thick against his thighs as he hovered beside the apex of my own. The recessed lights in the ceiling brightened the obvious delight on his face, which was already so magnetic it heightened the tremble of my legs. As did the next breath he blew purposely out against my clit to make me sigh. I glanced out to my sides to admire his work, because he’d connected the rope to the wall hooks above the end of the bed.
“Very clever.”
Dean lifted his head. “I admit it’s not quite the way I remember it. There’s no equipment here to tie you to, and I prefer to have your legs free when I lap every luscious drop of you up.” I gasped. “But I hope it’ll do for you. This particular fantasy has lived in my head for a long, long time. Th
ere’s no one I’d rather share it with than you.”
My jaw dropped.
I remembered this story from months before—I’d asked him what had first sparked this urge in him, ingrained this desire for the rope in his play. Dean had been nineteen when he’d spied Niko with a woman below deck, and she’d been tied up and submitting to his every move. That moment had spurred his taste from then on.
Now he was sharing it with me.
“I love it,” I gushed, my legs weakening with the firm grip of his palms around my knees. He slid them up along my outer thighs to my hips, letting his lips nearly graze my clit with the sway of his head back and forth. Need struck me, hard and sharp, lifting the hair at the nape of my neck.
“I thought you might.” Dean inched his hands up to my waist. “You’re beautiful like this, above me. I can already imagine how you’ll writhe when I sink my fingers in you and taste your clit. Taste you.” I moaned, and Dean used his hold on my waist to tug my body slightly downward, acquainting me with the steady pull of the ropes at my wrists. I ached to bend my knees, to smother his mouth with my cunt as close as I was to the tease of his lips—but if he’d told me to stay in place, I wanted to do what he asked.
Besides, him bringing this fantasy to me?
So fucking hot.
Dean tugged again, and I followed the motion, trying my hardest not to bend my knees or sink down. He tipped up his mouth, letting his tongue skim my clit and cranking up the heat that spiraled along my arms and into my fingers. “You like that?”
“Oh God, yes.”
Once more, he stuck out his tongue, the tip lightly circling my swollen nub. I tightened my shoulder blades, captivated by the way he riled me up and the dig of the coils while I stood there, outstretched and open for him.
The Discipline Page 24
