by TN King
She almost missed his stepping forward, hands outstretched, she’d been so focused on checking him out. It was only when her eyes fell that she saw the box he was presenting her with.
Her breath caught, her eyes widening as she looked at it, almost backing up away from the box in fear. “Now, Morgan,” she tried, her tone cautious. “If this is another gown—”
He laughed, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “Chance owns that one now,” he promised her with a glint in his eyes. “No, I learned my lesson there Sweetness, this is something else… for you and for me.”
She swallowed, a shiver working down her spine at the way he said that word. Like it meant all kinds of wicked things rolled into one. Alright. For both of them though? Her curiosity rose, taking the box from his hands and holding it for a moment, trying to weigh it, not that that ever actually got her anywhere. Dammit, she hoped it wasn’t something overly extravagant. She thought she’d been clear enough on that rule, but she could never be too sure with Morgan seeing that they had different definitions of the word.
She backed up until the backs of her knees hit the couch, dropping her ass onto it so she could sit while she opened the box. She didn’t want to be standing just in case. She unwrapped it slowly, opening the box itself and staring in confusion at what lay within.
What the…?
Morgan said nothing, watching silently as she tried to figure it out. Of course, he gave her no hints.
She pulled out the top piece, turning the piece of silk over in her hand and looking back down at the rest of what looked like identical pieces. Well, she could admit she was wrong this time. Even if it was real silk, in the strips they were in, it couldn’t have been too terribly expensive. “Strips of…” she trailed off, holding it up and raising her gaze to look at him in question. What was the point here? Were they supposed to be symbolic?
He crossed the small distance, sitting down next to her and taking all of the silk out of the box, lifting them up for her to see. “If you will lend me your trust…” he said slowly, his voice containing some note heretofore unknown to her. “I will show you what you were meant to feel,” he said lowly, his eyes growing deeper in color, darker the longer he looked at her with that silk held up.
She knew what his gaze meant at least, what that look was meant to contain, but it didn’t help her decipher his meaning any further. “I don’t know what…?” she trailed off again, flicking one of the silk pieces with a slight laugh. He sounded like he was promising her all kinds of things, but with silk strips? What were they supposed to do with those? Blindfolds maybe? But then why did they need so many?
His grin shifted, tilting dirtily as he looked her up and down, standing up again and moving the box off of her lap, fisting all of the silk pieces in one hand and holding his hand out to her. “Come and let me show you then,” he tempted, his voice strained with that desire that had been eating at the both of them this whole time.
Of course, she would, she’d already planned to remove that restriction tonight, she was just confused as to what was going on here. Ellie placed her hand evenly in his, fingers curling around his hand as he pulled her up from where she’d been sitting. So they were going to go do this, whatever it was.
He moved to the side, not letting go of her hand to lead her down the hallway, strides long and purposeful. So much so, that she had to take two steps at a time to keep up with him.
Excitement began to creep in, her belly tightening. She couldn’t wait until—wait. It dawned on her, midway down the hallway, her steps coming to a screeching halt as she realized why some of those strips were shaped differently than the others and longer. They weren’t just strips of random silk, and they weren’t blindfolds. They were ties! Ties meant to… tie her. She gulped, being pulled along the rest of the way into the inside of her bedroom where Morgan finally let go of her hand.
He walked across the space, setting the ties down on the bed, except for the one that he turned over and over again in his hand as he lifted his gaze up to hers. His eyes were intense, that gray almost molten from how dark it was. “When we were together that first night, I just knew. I had suspected before,” he admitted, shrugging one shoulder. “But the way that you handled things, the way you came from giving me head alone, how well you responded to direction… I knew how you were meant to be… handled,” he finished lamely, obviously unsatisfied with his explanation but not knowing where to go from there.
“Handled?” she repeated, her voice lifted in question.
Morgan shook his head, waving his hand as if to dismiss the word, but it had already been said. He sighed, straightening his fingers out and weaving the silk between them. “I am not handling this right,” he admitted, lifting his body up off the bed and coming to stand just in front of her. He bent his head, meeting her gaze steadily. “Do you trust me?” he asked instead, lowering his head closer to hers, his tone just as intense as his gaze had been.
Ellie swallowed hard, gulping the emotion back as she bit at her lip. That was… a very good question actually. One that she didn’t quite know the answer to. Yes, it was easy to answer in part. She did trust him, with her body. She trusted him more with her body than she did herself. With her future? Obviously, she had already given him that answer by allowing him back in her life and rebuilding like they were. But with her heart? She still felt shaky on that one, even if she knew what answer she wanted to give him. Honesty, always honesty. “In what way?” she asked, lifting one brow. She wasn’t just going to answer him like she did herself mentally. She wasn’t going to just hand it over to him, even though she’d already decided that she intended to have him in all the most delicious ways that she knew how.
He froze, hearing her answer, his eyes widening as if it wasn’t the response he’d been expecting. He seemed to think about it, run over the different responses he could give in return, but then he just tilted his head back, laughing loudly at her response instead.
Which, to be fair, wasn’t what Ellie had expected. She blinked, staring at him in surprise. It wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting either.
Even still, his laughter was just as sexy as everything else about him, making her toes curl into the carpet beneath them. Yes, she decided with a smile all of her own, her surprise would be even better now. She knew what this was all about now. She had figured it out, finally. It may have taken her a few minutes, but oh, God, yes. She wanted what he was offering, wanted to give him what he was asking for. She wanted him to give her what he was asking for. Being tied up should have sounded scary, but really it just made her panties all the more wet at just the thought.
She tilted her head, looking at him, and took a step back determinedly. And then another.
Morgan stopped laughing abruptly as she did so though, concern flashing over his features as she moved back away from him… instead of towards. He looked puzzled, tilting his own head and stopping his grin entirely.
Good.
Her lips twisted, curling up at the sight. It was about time that she took him off of his confident stride for once. It was her turn to take him for a ride, at least until he took her on an even better one… she cocked a brow, reaching down to wrap her fingers around the hem of her sundress, twisting it in place while refusing to drop her eyes from his.
Morgan’s brow raised now, his tongue wetting his lips as he watched her, dipping his chin in encouragement.
It’d been all the permission she had been waiting for, lifting it slowly – inch by tantalizing inch – over her body, the fabric trailing against her skin. Her body shifted and twisted, helping release it out of place as she got it up and over her head, bending so she could shake her hair out as soon as she did so. Without pause, she dropped it behind her, slowly lowering her arms and staring at him once more.
His eyes seemed to change, deepening even further in color as he looked at her now, standing before him in only her bra and panties. Her very wet, very hot, lace powder blue panties. That steel gray obse
rved her, eating up the look of all of her uncovered skin and roaming right back up to her eyes, chin dropping again.
God, he made her hot. He made her feel like her skin was six sizes too small and like being naked wasn’t even bare enough. Yes, she thought with a smile, looking at the way his lust filled gaze traveled her again, just wait Morgan…just wait. She twisted, curling her arms up behind herself in order to undo the clasp of her bra, humming a little bit as she allowed it to fall naturally from her body, her perky breasts bouncing back up with hardened nipples.
Morgan swallowed, his heated gaze pausing just on her peaked chest. His whole body looked suddenly tense, eyes intensifying on her pert form.
She moved again, taking one step closer to him… and then another… and another still, and stopping just in front of him, dropping to her knees in front of him.
His eyebrows rose, gaze dropping to her just in time to see her placing her wrists side by side, as if invisibly held together, before lifting them up as if in offering to him.
Pausing, he stared at her in stunned pleasure.
She knew she could do more, she wanted to lower her head in supplication in order to really get to him- to really show him how into the idea that she was… but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, she wanted too badly to see his reaction to what she’d already done. So instead, she just turned her head, tilting her chin so it was still somewhat lowered in subservience, her gaze dropping from his and instead just looking over his features broadly.
He shifted again, facial muscles tensing even as he dropped his hand to adjust himself within his jeans, that hardened bulge standing admirably out against his denim clad thigh.
God yes, he was hard… she had known he would be. He wanted her in submission… he wanted to master her. That had been made clear enough. And she wanted him to do it. Wanted to be bent and twisted to his will, wanted to follow only his command. She knew the levels of pleasure he’d taken her to before, and that had been without all of that, she could only imagine what he could accomplish given free reign. She may have had very little experience, but she at least knew this much.
Morgan swallowed hard before he spoke, “Are you sure?” he doubled checked, index finger lightly running against the line of her joined wrists, as if testing it.
Heat travelled through to her belly, her exhale much shakier than she had intended it to be. But, oh God, did she want him. “Yes,” she said surely. “I’m all yours,” She spoke, this line, feeling even surer now.
His finger trembled against her skin with the statement, running further along her arm until it could reach her face, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze again. Permission that she readily took. His eyes almost glowed at her, burning in all of their intensity. “You haven’t ever been tied up before, have you?” he asked in a low tone his words slow and deliberate, as if waiting on something she had not yet given.
Whatever it was he could have it, she had meant it when she’d said she was his. All of her was his for the taking. She shook her head in response, refusing to actually say the words as she lifted her arms higher, as if proffering herself even further. Bent in supplication and acceptance, her eyes begging him hotly. “Take me Morgan,” she pleaded, her voice low and thready.
He didn’t wait for anything else, stepping forward and wrapping his fingers on one hand around the both of her wrists simultaneously. He lifted, hard, pulling her whole body off of the ground and into the air, straightening her out and lifting her body above him.
She dangled, lifted in the air above him, until slowly and purposefully, he lowered her, sliding her nude skin the whole day down his hard, pulsing body. She could feel his body heat coming out even through his clothes, her body slid sensually down his very hard jeans, the denim separating her folds and rubbing her against him even further.
Oh, fuck.
He felt so amazing, the way he was using her, like he was using her entire body to caress himself down the length of his. She inhaled shakily, moaning at the feel of his body against hers. At the feel of the promise, he was giving her. She couldn’t believe they’d waited this long. She couldn’t believe she’d hesitated at all, her panties nearly sticking to her now with how slick they’d become from her longing.
He grunted, spinning her body around and placing her down gently on the bed. His whole manner seemed to shift, those dark eyes devouring her. He smirked, licking his lips as he stared at her, like she was some tasty treat that he wanted to eat whole.
And oh god, did she hope that he did.
He pushed her, with the heel of his hand against her shoulder, back onto the bed…laying her out flat as he bent over her.
She squirmed, begging for more contact, and he stilled her just as quickly, silk rubbing against her wrist suddenly. She hadn’t even felt him grab the ties, twisted up in his fingers as he pulled her wrists back together, holding them just how she had offered them to him. He deftly tied that silk over them, tying them together and lifting them up over her head. “Spread your legs,” he ordered roughly, already allowing his hands to roam roughly down her sides, assisting her in moving her thighs apart from each other.
Not that she needed the assistance. He spoke and she complied, instantly, and without question. Her thighs falling to either side of her hips willingly.
Again, he moved over her, his molten gray eyes burning her up from the inside out, hands brushing along her skin and making gooseflesh break out along behind them. With no warning whatsoever, his fingers twisted up in either side of her panties, looping into the fabric and pulling.
Yanking until the seams split and the fabric was pulled roughly from her hips, red marks left raised against her skin where the fabric had been before.
She gasped, loudly, her whole body lifting into the contact before he pushed her hips back down on the bed. She hadn’t expected them to be torn from her any more than she’d expected her stomach to clench so excitedly at having them done so. The tearing sound echoed loudly in the room, her gaze lifting up to his suddenly with even more desire.
His expression was fierce, rough in the lines of his face in a way that made her shiver all over. Sexy. That was the word, she’d thought he embodied it before, but here and now—was even more so.
He lifted his body, leaning down even further over her, his chest hovering just above hers, where she could feel the body heat but not his actual body residing just over her. His hand shifted, fingers curling around her mound, pressing into her pubic bone without ever actually entering or rubbing against her, held just away from doing so.
Ellie’s breath caught, her chest heaving with how heavily she was already breathing from him just barely having gotten started.
His gaze didn’t leave hers, insistent as he stared, his breath fanning out over her lips temptingly. “This pussy is mine,” he demanded, staring at her. When she didn’t answer, he tightened his fingers, squeezing her and yet still keeping her from the friction she wanted.
Another second passed before she got it, her breath leaving her all at once, nodding dumbly, but his fingers only tightened further at the move. “Yes,” she gasped out, her voice low. “Yes, this pussy is yours,” she groaned.
He rewarded her, three fingers pushing inside of her and curling up into the top of her pussy viciously. His fingers rolled inside of her, stilling suddenly.
Ellie gasped again, catching her breath and just barely holding her hips down from lifting up into his hands again. It was so intense, just that, her body almost coming just from his words and actions alone. One move and she wanted to scream, her body singing from his attention.
“Tell me…” he ground out again, his fingers tensing inside of her roughly.
Ellie panted, her chest shaking. “My-pussy-is y-yours,” she repeated, stammering it out with a needy sort of moan beneath her words. She shook, almost gasping in horror as he removed his fingers from her, pulling them out with a sensuous curl.
He seemed satisfied though, finally standing up from her entire
ly and lifting his own shirt over his head, all that tanned skin and rippling muscle now at her disposal.
Ellie stared, unabashedly. She’d seen it before, she knew, but it had been weeks since then and looking now, tied up like she was felt somehow different. Her eyes roamed his form freely, lips parting to allow her tongue to pass over them. God. His body was so sexy, so sleek, so well toned with all of his cut muscles. She just wanted to feel him on top of her already, pressing her down into the mattress.
He leaned forward to grab one of her ankles, tugging until her leg was pulled out and to the side so he could fit her ankle against the bedpost.
Now she knew why she, specifically, had a four poster bed.
“I’m going to tie just the one leg,” he said seriously, his gaze held to hers. “But you are going to keep yourself spread eagled for me, no matter what, do you understand?” It was phrased as a question, but the way that he spoke made it sound more like a demand, his fingers just barely brushing over her thighs.
She nodded. It was the only form of answer she could actually give him.
He seemed pleased by that, looking her over one more time before stepping back again.
Ellie thought, in the meantime, that she was going to die of anticipation. Here she had given herself, offered herself, but she didn’t know how this would actually go… or what all it would entail, not really. She just felt excited, her body flush with the desire for him that she’d been carrying for so long.
Desire that finally seemed about to be sated, his form bending to divest of his jeans and boxer briefs readily, not even bothering to fold them but throwing them somewhere randomly behind him as he stood back up.
Oh, fuuuuckkkk.
His cock stood out hard and straight from his hips, throbbing and pulsing in promise. Her breath caught, lips parting so she could lick them again, already feeling him in her mouth, pushing back against her throat as he took what belonged to him. Fuck. She was so wet, so ready, she could practically feel that bulging vein against her lower lip so seductively.
