another orgasm.
He pulled his fingers free, took a deep breath, and said, “So fucking good,” before he leaned forward and licked desperately at her juices.
He rubbed her clit with two fingers while he sucked at her pussy.
“Give me more, baby,” he pleaded.
When she came a moment later, he moaned with satisfaction at the flood of fluids that met his probing tongue.
Fuck, he was good at this.
He stood abruptly, drawing a gasp of surprise from Dawn. He freed his massive cock from his shorts and began to stroke his length in rapid, hard tugs. She couldn’t decide where to look. At his eyes squeezed shut in bliss? His mouth hanging open as he gasped for air? His heaving chest? Taut abs? His hand tugging his length in rapid, sure strokes? Oh God! Dawn’s pussy clenched in time with his motion. She could almost feel him inside her as he pleasured himself between her thighs. She strained toward him. Fill me. Fill me. Fill me, she thought. He cried out as he erupted. His fluids spurted from his body onto her belly and one breast. A second shot splattered across her thigh. His hand went still.
He leaned against her, his forehead against her shoulder, his shaky breaths warming her chest. She wished her arms were free so she could hold him tight. She nuzzled her face against his neck, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled his body against hers—chest to breasts, belly to belly, cock to seam. She didn’t move, afraid he’d pull away. His hips began to grind, rubbing the length of his still hard cock against her opening. He moaned as if in agony and his cockhead slipped inside her. Yes, she thought. Please. But she stayed silent, her eyes squeezed shut in preparation for his rejection.
He shifted his hips downward, but instead of pulling away, he pressed up inside her, claiming another inch. She clung to the piano beneath her hands. God, how she wanted to hold him as he slowly entered her in a deepening pattern of retreat and conquer. Her body adjusted to his thickness, stretching to accommodate his girth. When his balls pressed against her and she knew she had all of him, a tear dripped from beneath her eyelid and streaked down her cheek.
He buried his hands in her hair and pressed his lips to her cheek. “Dawn?” he whispered brokenly. “What did I just do?”
She wanted to speak, to soothe him, to say it’s okay, Kellen, it’s okay, but emotion clogged her throat and she couldn’t find the words.
He jerked abruptly away, pulling free of her body, away from her, and she couldn’t cling to him, couldn’t stop him from fleeing into the bathroom and slamming the door. And she couldn’t stop the tears flowing down her cheeks unchecked.
Chapter Seven
Kellen leaned back against the inner surface of the bathroom door, trying to catch his breath. What had he done? Shit. What had he been thinking? He hadn’t been thinking. He’d completely lost control.
It was Dawn’s fault for being so beautiful, so sweet, so warm and wonderful and willing. So absolutely amazing and accepting and so… not Sara.
He slammed his fist into the wall, relishing the pain that snaked through his knuckles and up his arm.
He could still taste Dawn’s juices, still smell the musk of her sex, still feel her warm, soft heat sheathing his cock.
How could have done that? Just entered her like that? Promises to Sara aside, he hadn’t even been wearing a condom.
He approached the sink, fumbling in the dark until he found the faucet. He turned on the water and cupped his hand to draw several sips to his mouth.
His promise to Sara echoed through his head. Never, honey. I promise I’ll never come inside another woman. You’re my one and only forever.
Technically, he hadn’t come inside Dawn. He’d entered her after he’d spent himself all over her.
He banged the wall again.
What in the fuck am I doing? Qualifying my actions so I can tolerate the guilt again? He called bullshit on himself. First he had convinced himself that Shibari was okay because he’d never tied Sara, then performing oral was acceptable because Sara didn’t enjoy that particular act, then it was fine if Owen was the one touching him and making him come because Owen wasn’t a woman, and now Kellen was trying to convince himself he could enter a woman, just as long as doing so wasn’t his reason for ejaculating. Hey, Sara, how’s my promise to you looking now? I failed you again.
He had to go back to Dawn. He couldn’t leave her tied like that without supervision. She could easily lose her balance and take a fall from the piano. But how could he face her after using her body so selfishly and then hiding in the bathroom as if he wasn’t utterly lost in her?
Dawn was so sweet. So perfect. He’d been completely absorbed in her—her taste, her scent, the sound of her sighs and moans, the texture of her skin, her warmth, her exquisite beauty. When he’d claimed her body, he’d been seeking something more than pleasure. He’d wanted to be closer to her. He’d wanted to be deep inside—not just physically, but emotionally. And he knew that was a far worse form of infidelity than a round of meaningless sex. His main problem was that he had a hard time ever having meaningless sex. He chose his partners carefully for that reason. He had to have a deeper connection than lust with a woman to make love to her. Fooling around was one thing, but being inside a woman was spiritual to him. It touched far more than his body.
After Sara, every woman he’d been attracted to had drawn him because she reminded him of his lost love in some way. He’d been looking to replace what he’d lost. He knew that. It was sick and twisted and wrong.
And now there was Dawn. Dawn who was nothing like Sara. Yet being with her felt right. Why?
He heard a thump outside the bathroom, and his heart leapt. He tore open the door and rushed to Dawn’s side. He was completely unprepared for what he found.
Dawn wasn’t in any harm, but she’d managed to lie across the piano on one side, her arms still tied securely behind her. She was weeping silently, tears streaming down her face to pool on the shiny black surface beneath her. Deep red strands of curls spread out over her nude body and trailed out behind her, draping her piano.
“Are you in pain?” he asked. “Where does it hurt, Dawn?”
“My heart,” she sobbed.
Was she experiencing cardiac arrest? An extreme panic attack? He’d heard that sometimes a panic attack felt like a heart attack. Being the self-absorbed asshole that he was, he’d forgotten that she’d been freaked-out about being tied unless he was close. He had to get her free as soon as possible. There wasn’t time for him to slowly untie each knot.
He grabbed a candle and hurried to the kitchen. He found a knife in a butcher block and returned to Dawn.
She gasped when she saw him standing over her with a huge knife. There he went scaring her again.
“I’m not going to stab you with it,” he said.
He sawed through each knot holding her arms together, starting at her wrists and working his way upward toward her shoulder blades. When the last knot came free, she surprised him by knocking the blade aside and wrapping both arms around his neck. Her muscles were trembling with fatigue, but she held on to him with surprising strength.
“I hate her,” she sobbed. “I hate her for taking so much of you. I hate her for meeting you first. I hate her fucking guts.”
“Easy,” he said, allowing himself to hold her gently. “I’m sorry I left you by yourself. You shouldn’t have been left unsupervised.” It was the first rule of bondage. “Something bad could have happened to you. I’m so glad you’re not hurt. I would have never forgiven myself.”
“But I do hurt, Kellen,” she said. “I hurt so bad… for you.”
He leaned back and brushed strands of hair from her tear-damp cheeks. He got lost in her very watery hazel eyes. “Is that why you’re crying? For me?”
She nodded. “I wish your heart was free, Kellen. I wish that for me, but I wish it for you even more.”
“I should have nev—”
She covered his lips with two fingertips. “Don’t say you regret it,
Kellen. I couldn’t bare it. When you were inside me…” Several tears dripped down her smooth cheeks. “It was beautiful.”
He didn’t regret being inside her. He felt a crippling guilt, but strangely the guilt was worth the connection he couldn’t deny he’d felt. That moment of emotional bonding might not be worth it when Dawn was no longer pressed against his body, holding him close, staring up at him with something he feared was adoration, but in this moment, the guilt was minor in comparison to the joy he felt in just holding this woman.
“I won’t say it,” he whispered. “I won’t say it because it’s not true. Being inside you felt… right.”
She caught his face between her palms, her gaze trained on his mouth. “I’m going to kiss you now,” she said. “And don’t you dare think of her when I do it.”
“Dawn.” He meant to speak her name as a protest, but it was more of a plea.
“Shh. It’s just a kiss.”
Just a kiss.
Her lips brushed his gently, and she immediately shifted away to stare into his eyes again. He saw her concern for him and while it touched his heart, it wasn’t necessary.
“That wasn’t a kiss,” he said.
Her brows drew together. “It wasn’t?”
He claimed her mouth with his—seeking, rough, deep, passionate, oh so intimate kisses. When her lips parted and her timid tongue brushed his lip, he felt as if a dam burst inside him and a tidal wave he had no hope of fighting slammed him against Dawn’s glory, melding them into one. Once he started kissing her, he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. He never wanted to stop. Lust stirred in his groin, but for once it wasn’t accompanied by guilt, just need. He needed this, needed her—Dawn. He was certain he’d feel differently in the morning, but he didn’t care about the aftermath or the fallout. He only cared about the here and now. He didn’t want her tied to prevent her from touching him, from encouraging his lust, and fueling his desire. He wanted her completely free, so she could continue to help free his heart from the bonds of his past.
Reluctantly, he pulled away from her delightful mouth and stared down into her eyes. He tucked a finger under her chin and traced her full, lower lip with his thumb. “Would you be overly offended if I said I want to fuck you until dawn?”
She smiled, and he was glad to say goodbye to the emotional knot that had been squeezing his throat. He didn’t want his time with her spoiled with all the baggage that dragged him down. He wanted the same joy her music had given him to accompany their joining, and her looking at him as if he was a charity case wasn’t what he needed or wanted from her. He knew her light would chase away his darkness—maybe only for a single night, but he’d worry about that later.
“Offended?” she said. “I don’t think that’s the right word for what I’m feeling right now.”
“What are you feeling?” He palmed her breast, his fingertips tracing the rope that still crisscrossed her chest.
“Inspired,” she said.
His eyebrows shot up. “You want to write music? Now?”
She shook her head. “I’ll show how inspired I am by you, if you’ll let me.”
“Allow me to untie you and you can show me anything you like.”
Kellen unwound what was left of the ropes from Dawn’s shoulders. He took his time, not because he didn’t feel an urgency to possess her, but because he wanted this to last for as long as possible. As he removed the ropes, he massaged and kissed her pale skin, making sure each freckle was given proper attention.
Her fingertips clung to his shoulders as he slowly made his way down her chest. When his lips rubbed over her nipple, she sighed, and then she moaned when his tongue flicked out to trace the hardened bud. He suckled her, his hand gently kneading her soft flesh. It was as if her breasts had been molded specifically to fill his palms.
“Kellen.”
He loosened more ropes and lavished her other breast with attention. Adoration.
Her hands began to explore his shoulders, roam his chest, thread through his hair. It felt so good to be touched. He fought the urge to hurry in untying her legs so she’d wrap them around him. Imagining her heels pressed into the backs of his thighs, her calves hugging his ass, had him fumbling with the ropes at her waist. He didn’t give her belly half the attention it deserved as he hurriedly untied the knots surrounding her belly button. He made his way lower, lower, until her pussy was too close to resist. He devoured her, teasing her clit with rapid flicks of his tongue until she was moaning and dripping fluids. Damn, she tasted good as he dipped his tongue into her opening and swirled it around again and again to collect every drop of her arousal.
Her hands held the back of his head as he lost himself in her scent, her taste, but her legs were still tied wide open, and he wanted them around him, pulling him into her. He wanted her free when he took her, and his rigid cock was throbbing, demanding entry into her slick warmth.
Crouched between her thighs, he leaned back and peered up at her, waiting for her eyelids to flutter open before he spoke.
“Do you have any condoms?” He had some in his wallet—Owen’s back-up stash of all things—which was out in the glovebox of his rental car, but he’d rather not have to go out there to find them if it wasn’t necessary.
“In my purse,” she said and then she chuckled. “They’ve been in there a while. They might be expired.”
“Where’s your purse?”
“Finish untying me and I’ll get them,” she said.
“But I’m not sure I can wait that long.”
“Then cut the ropes. Not that I’m not enjoying all this attention. It’s just the longer you take, the more inspired I feel.”
He still wasn’t sure what she meant by being inspired, but he knew in order to find out, he was going to have to free her legs. He hesitated only because he knew that once she was free, there was no turning back. He wouldn’t be able to stop even if his conscience was calling him every kind of cheater. A lecher. A weak man without principles.
He found the knife on the floor and carefully used it to cut the ropes from her thighs, then at the knee, and finally each ankle. She stretched her legs out in front of her, and he rubbed her hips to help her regain full mobility.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Better than okay.” She scooted forward and wrapped both arms and legs around him to hold him close. “Perfect.”
She kissed his jaw, his neck. He fought the instinct to deny himself pleasure—he’d been denying it for so long that enjoying it, seeking pleasure, felt foreign. Foreign and wonderful.
“But I think we can improve on perfect,” she whispered.
Her lips trailed over his collarbones, her hands roamed his back, and her legs tightened around his hips, forcing his cock against the heat between her thighs. He needed that condom like yesterday.
“Dawn?”
“Hmm?” she murmured, nibbling a delightful trail around one of his nipples.
“I could really use that condom right about now.”
She looked far too devious for comfort when she lifted her gaze to his. “I’ll go get them. You climb up here on the piano and wait for me.”
“But—” But he’d wanted her on the piano while he stood between her thighs and plunged into her.
“I want to show you how you’ve inspired me.”
And he did want to experience that, even if it meant he had to wait a while longer to possess her.
He helped her down from the piano, unable to keep his eyes off her gorgeous ass as she hurried toward the kitchen. She’d looked amazing all bound in ropes, but she looked even more beautiful without a single adornment impeding his view of her smooth, white skin. He completely forgot to climb up on the piano until she was headed back in his direction with something in her hand.
He put his back to the piano and was about to do a triceps curl to hoist himself up, when she waved one hand.
“Wait,” she said. “I see a problem.”
He glanced around in co
nfusion. She approached him and hooked her fingers in his borrowed boxer shorts.
“You won’t be needing these.”
She tugged his shorts down and jerked back unexpectedly when his cock sprang free in her face. She chuckled. “Whoa, big guy. Are you trying to black my eye?”
“That wasn’t its target, no.”
She laughed and helped him remove his shorts entirely. Then she stood and patted the surface of the piano lid.
“Up here,” she said.
Who was he to argue with her inspiration? He propelled himself upward to sit on the piano, and she nibbled on her lip as she stared at him.
“Open your legs.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. That’s the kind of thing he was supposed to say to her.
Tie Me Page 10
