Breaking Through

by A. M. Hartnett

  ‘Keep talking like that and I may even let you peg me.’

  For just a second, Miranda bit her lip and considered keeping her thoughts to herself, but she could see a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. She waited for elaboration. It never came.

  ‘What … Sorry, what is pegging?’

  His grin exploded onto his face. ‘You want to think about it for another second before I tell you.’

  Miranda shook her head. The answer evaded her. ‘I have no idea. Something to do with clamps, maybe.’

  ‘Not even close. He laughed and raised an eyebrow. ‘I told you I was with men when I was younger, didn’t I?’

  Realisation came as a little explosion, and Miranda’s cheeks turned red. ‘Ah, I see. I don’t really see myself as a strap-on kind of girl, to be honest.’

  ‘Doesn’t have to be a strap-on,’ he told her quietly, and sucked in a breath as she rocked against him. ‘I’ll leave that up to you. We might never graduate past the paddles, at least not with me on the receiving end.’

  ‘Maybe you’ll get bored with me after all you’ve done.’

  ‘Baby, you’d have to be dead for me to get bored with you.’ Simon clamped down on her and lifted his hips, but Miranda met his challenge by pushing down on his broad shoulders.

  His eyes flashed and he made another attempt, but in spite of the nervous flutter in her chest Miranda wouldn’t let him win. He was her conquest now, and she wanted her victory so badly she could taste it. She grasped his wrists and wrenched his arms close to his head, then threw her weight into holding him down.

  ‘Oh, I see how it works,’ she purred. ‘I see it so clearly now. You don’t just want to be pushed around, you want to put up a bit of a fight, right?’

  ‘So what if I want to see what you’re made of?’ he retorted.

  Miranda butted her forehead against his. ‘You can really be a pain in the ass, you know that?’

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Simon gave her a crack on the ass hard enough to drive her up. As she growled through the spreading sting and heat, he snagged the edge of her bra between his teeth.

  ‘Take this off,’ he said, and nipped skin along with her bra-strap.

  Miranda righted herself and caught his hands as he went for the strap. For just a moment he fought her, but she had her mission and was getting more and more excited about it, and she gave his arms a hard shake.

  He stopped wrestling with her, but he was still obviously piqued by the confrontation.

  Miranda raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you going to be a good boy for me?’

  ‘What do I get in return?’

  It came to her as she hissed a quick breath through her teeth. It played out perfectly in her mind, and something must have shown on her face that tantalised him, because he relaxed in her grip.

  ‘It’s not about you getting something in return,’ she told him quietly, an imp of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

  She released his hands and nibbled her lip as she watched him resume his relenting pose without being prompted. It took a tremendous amount of self-control as she looked down upon him. She itched to run her palms over every inch of glorious exposed skin, but the expectation that hung between them now prompted her to follow through on this game she had started.

  Leaving him to take up just about every inch of real estate on her bed, Miranda climbed away and went to her vanity. She caught his eye in the mirror and held his gaze as she unhooked her bra. He was perfectly still, save for the fingers of one hand flexing open and closed. It was clear that he was dying to reach down and give himself a rub while she set the scene.

  And so she took her time.

  She shimmied out of her bra, then unhooked her garters and wiggled out of her Supergirl panties. Having reattached the stockings, she perched on the edge of the vanity seat. She ignored him as she twisted her hair into a messy bun at the back of her head and dug into the drawer to her left. After she had swiped raspberry-flavoured tint across her lips and blown her reflection a kiss, she gave him back her attention.

  He hadn’t moved a muscle and his hand had stilled, but a smile crept over his face.

  ‘Oh,’ she said as if she had forgotten his presence, and twisted around in her seat. ‘Can you scoot down a bit?’

  He laughed and pushed up on his forearms. ‘I don’t have much room to scoot anywhere.’

  ‘You don’t need to move too far,’ she said as she got to her feet, and flashed him a smile as she pulled open the bottom drawer. ‘Not like you’ll have much choice in a minute.’

  ‘You really are enjoying this, aren’t you?’

  She said nothing as she pulled out a handful of long scarves she hadn’t touched since the cold weather abated.

  As she shook out one after another, she admonished herself for not getting a bed like Juliet’s. The rungs on hers would do, but she couldn’t help but think that the extra $500 for a poster bed would have been worth the price if she had only known there would be a blond giant waiting to be tied down.

  At the foot of the bed, Miranda draped two of the scarves and looked pointedly at his stuffed jockeys. ‘You can take those off now.’

  Hand on hip, she waited for him to shuck off his jockeys, and her breath hitched with the deep throb the sight of his thick cock evoked in her pussy. The need to sink down upon that arching shaft conflicted with the scene she was setting.

  Quickly, before she gave in to the urge, Miranda wrapped the scarves around his wrists and tied him to the headboard, then did the same to his ankles at the footboard.

  She crawled onto the edge of the bed and drew one last scarf out in front of her. ‘Do you like to be gagged?’

  ‘No, but I bet you’d like that.’

  ‘Do you need to be gagged?’ she asked, and wound each end around her fingers until they met.

  Understanding came upon him. ‘Ah. No, I won’t make more noise than usual.’

  ‘Good.’

  She slipped the scarf around his neck and made a loose knot, then grinned down on him. ‘You know, I’m really tempted to put some liner around your eyes.’

  ‘I thought that blast from the past didn’t do anything for you.’

  ‘He doesn’t, but the idea of bringing your inner bad-ass out for a visit could be fun.’

  Miranda chewed on the temptation. She could do it. She could do anything to him right now and he’d let her, not because he was tied down but because it was written all over his body that being at her mercy was a huge turn-on.

  ‘Maybe later,’ she said quietly, then leaned down and gave him the kiss he had been after.

  Careful boy, he tasted rather than tested her, until she grasped the hair at the top of his head and thrust her tongue against his.

  As hard as he pushed her, she pushed back at him, asserting her control with tongue and teeth and drawing back as he tried to seize the momentum. Even tethered to her bed, Simon was a force to be reckoned with. Biting her bottom lip with a throaty rumble, his entire body was taut. One word beat a tattoo in her blood.

  Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

  The only escape was to deny him. She drew back and grabbed a pillow that had fallen to the floor, then stuffed it behind his head.

  He licked his lips as she tugged his restraints. ‘Cherry.’

  ‘Raspberry, actually.’ Praying that gravity, and her bed slats, would be kind to her, Miranda stood over him on the mattress. She gave her garters a snap, then placed her fingers on either side of her pussy to frame it. ‘Show me your tongue again.’

  Lips split in a grin, he repeated the motion of sliding his tongue across them. Darkness covered him as she dropped to her knees on either side of his head and sat lightly upon his chest.

  ‘How crazy would it make you if I just stayed like this and played with myself?’

  ‘Mental,’ he answered immediately. She knew he wanted nothing more than to slide his fingers between her slick lips and open her up.

  ‘I don’t want t
o play with myself,’ she cooed, and gave his cheek a pinch. ‘I want to see that tongue again so I can ride it.’

  He groaned and gave her the tip. Once more she grasped a handful of his hair and tilted forward, and he remained perfectly still as she pressed her pussy to his silky-wet offering.

  He didn’t lick her. He kept the muscle taut as she rocked back and forth until her clit had swelled completely from its hood. Making a fist and trapping him, her willing captive, Miranda moved against the flat surface so that no part of the hard nub was untouched by his tongue.

  His breathing quickened, gushing through his nostrils and making the furnace between her legs all the hotter, but he didn’t withdraw to take a breath.

  Looking down at him, Miranda saw that his eyes were closed and his lashes fluttering. He looked like he had slipped into heaven.

  Twisting her fingers against his scalp, Miranda arched back with a moan.

  ‘Suck me,’ she urged him, the words burning at the back of her throat. ‘Suck me and make me come.’

  The hot suction was instant and powerful. His tongue came to life and dragged back and forth over her clit. Miranda held tight, grinding into the mayhem that she had unleashed by giving him this leeway.

  Her free hand joined the first in his hair. She felt the greedy sound he made before she heard it, felt it zip around her clit as though blazing a trail for his tongue to follow, and follow it did. Her head floated above her body as she worked her hips and fucked his mouth, until all of that perfect energy honed on his tongue.

  Simon puckered his lips and sucked hard, and Miranda lost it. She went taut and sobbed as her orgasm rode her as mercilessly as she rode Simon’s eager mouth. He kept sucking, kept licking, until she begged him to stop, and just when she thought she might faint it occurred to her from some faraway place that at that moment she was his mistress.

  With a gasp she released him, raised up enough to escape the sweet torture of his lips and tongue, and grasped the headboard.

  ‘Oh … damn.’ She rested her head against the cold metal. There she stayed as Simon nibbled the insides of her thighs, until his muffled words roused her.

  She looked down and met his gaze. ‘What?’

  ‘I said, I can still taste the cherry on my lips.’

  She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out, then returned his smile. ‘It’s raspberry.’

  Carefully, so as not to knock him on the head with her knee, Miranda climbed away from him and sat back on her calves. She kept one hand on the headboard, hanging on as aftershocks pulsed from her clit through the rest of her body.

  Simon reclined comfortably in his bindings, but between his legs he looked like he could burst. Precome glossed the flushed head that was close to touching his belly.

  ‘What do you have planned for me now?’ he asked, following her gaze.

  ‘I haven’t thought that far ahead,’ she admitted. She needed her body and mind to catch up with her libido. Fighting the urge to snuggle down and rest against his captive body for a snooze, Miranda reached out and ruffled his hair. ‘I’ll bet you could use a drink.’

  She left him where he was, glancing back with a giggle. Tied down, he looked like Gulliver at the mercy of the Lilliputians. She brought back a glass of ice water, complete with a bendy straw, and curled up alongside him.

  Simon squashed into the pillow beneath his head and smiled up at her. ‘Paddling may not have turned you into a nympho, but strapping me down and using my mouth as a saddle sure as hell did the trick.’

  ‘Shush,’ she said as heat flooded her cheeks, and offered him the end of the straw.

  Once he had quenched his thirst, Miranda sipped the water and regarded his straining erection with a mixture of want and puzzlement. She had very little in her arsenal, she realised. What she wanted more than anything right now was to wrap her lips around his cock and suck him back into mayhem, but she felt as though she would be squandering an opportunity.

  So deep was she in her reverie that she started at the pinch on her arm. Simon craned his neck, kissing her from shoulder to elbow.

  ‘Do whatever you want to me,’ he murmured softly. He smiled against her skin and started to sing what sounded like some nonsense song. ‘She’s my cherry pie …’

  ‘I told you, it’s raspberry.’ She squirmed away as he reached the tickling plane where her flank met her back, and then inspiration struck. She set the water on the nightstand and bounced off the bed with a hurried, ‘Be right back.’

  Chapter Eight

  Miranda doubted that Juliet would miss anything from the mess in her bottom drawer where she found the goodie bag Juliet had showed off a few months before. A local sex shop had hosted an event and given out a ton of goodies, including the multicoloured packets Miranda delved into as she headed back into the bedroom.

  ‘I’m curious about the pomegranate, but I have a point to make,’ she told him as she withdrew the blue packet.

  She straddled Simon’s waist, wriggled so that his cock nestled between her nether lips and grinned as the shaft gave an insistent throb. She snagged the cap between her teeth and, as soon as it opened, squirted a dollop onto her fingertip.

  ‘Here,’ she purred, and smeared the lube over his mouth. ‘Raspberry.’

  She crooked her finger into his mouth, and as he curled his tongue around it she thrilled with the reminder of what he had done with his tongue moments ago.

  Simon relinquished her finger with a pop and ran his tongue between his lips. ‘I think I’d prefer the cherry.’

  ‘Pick two,’ she said, holding up the bag, ‘except for the pomegranate. That’s mine.’

  ‘Cinnamon?’

  ‘No, sorry.’

  ‘Green apple?’

  ‘I have sour apple.’ She held up the green neon packet. She rocked, sliding slick along his cock, as she uncapped first the cherry and then the apple. She took a dollop from both and smeared one on each nipple, then stretched over his body.

  ‘Good?’ she asked shakily as he sucked the cherry nipple into his mouth.

  He didn’t answer. He just gorged himself until the peak became taut, then gave her a sharp snap with his front teeth before moving to the other.

  Once he had finished, and her nipples were so taut they ached, Miranda rose again.

  ‘What else do you have?’ he asked.

  She shook the contents of the bag out next to them and lifted the bright-yellow tube.

  ‘I was hoping it was banana,’ she said, and tossed it aside. ‘I hate lemon. Reminds me of cough drops. Oooh, now we’re talking.’

  She held the grape in front of him. He bared his teeth and snapped the cap open, then held out his tongue.

  Miranda laughed and squirted out a dollop, then took the same for herself. She went down again. Tongues curled, smearing the tart lubricant in one another’s mouths, inviting and denying, teasing and overtaking. With the mixture of candy flavours in his mouth, Simon tasted like Juicy Fruit gum, with the lingering musk of her sex underneath it all.

  ‘Ready to try the pomegranate?’ she murmured against his mouth, and felt his lips curve.

  ‘I think our experiences will be very different,’ he joked as she scuttled down, and his grin widened as she uncapped the pomegranate lube. ‘I think this might actually be a first for me. I’ve never been someone’s lollipop before.’

  ‘You’ve never used flavoured condoms?’

  ‘I used a mint spray once when I was in university, but it was more for my girlfriend at the time. She hated going down.’ He shot her a wicked look. ‘I don’t seem to have that problem with you.’

  ‘I like sucking you,’ she purred as she drizzled the lube in a circle over his head. ‘I like the sounds you make. I like the way you move. I like how you’re such a mouthful.’

  ‘I like the way you suck me,’ he said, his smile waning as she kneaded him. ‘No, I love the way you suck me.’

  Sated for now, Miranda was in the mood to tease him. She wanted to draw out his ple
asure, to watch it etch ridges and lines into his brow and bring out a sheen of sweat along his torso. She wanted to feel it throbbing in her hand and on her mouth. She wanted him straining against the bonds she had placed him in and beg her for more.

  Taking him at the root with both hands, Miranda bowed and dragged her tongue through the groove. The tang of the pomegranate hit her taste buds with a small explosion, mingling with the taste of precome that oozed from the tip. Both flavours made her greedy, and as Simon groaned she took the smooth crest into her mouth.

  ‘God, I love how you suck me,’ he repeated in a rattling rasp and raised his hips to meet the warm recess of her mouth.

  She refused him. She squeezed down on the shaft, but what little she had taken she sucked hard.

  As the candy taste of the lube began to fade, she reined herself back in and looked up his body. His chest rose and fell quickly and he’d wrapped his hands around the rungs he was tied to.

  Flicking her tongue against the underside of his glans, Miranda patiently waited for his attention to turn to her. He lifted his head. His expression had been wiped clean of the self-satisfaction he always seemed to carry with him. She’d unleashed a wildness in him, but like the rest of him it was restrained, a big cat raised in luxury that had the potential to be fierce but preferred the decadence of its bondage.

  Her gaze locked with his. She held his cock in her palm and licked along the underside, then watched what she did to him show in the shuddering muscles of his wide shoulders. He watched as though mesmerised by the track of her tongue lathing every veined inch, then sank back into the pillow as she took him into her throat.

  ‘Stop,’ he growled as she sucked him, then shook all over. ‘Stop or I’m gonna come soon.’

  ‘We can’t have that,’ she teased.

  She kept her grip on his cock as she coated him once more with the lube, and was careful as she smeared it along the length. Exercising more restraint than when she’d first tasted him, Miranda licked him up and down, around and around, until he tensed and gave her another warning.