by Tina Reber
He bit his bottom lip and nodded.
I leaned forward just as he pulled me in, relishing in the relief of his mouth on mine.
I rested my forehead on his and drew in a deep breath.
“It’s just you and me here.” He caressed my cheek. “Talk to me.”
“I’m worried about my sister. I think… I think her boyfriend is abusing her.”
“I think you may be right,” he said softly, brushing my hair back. He slipped my shoes off, dropping them to the floor, relieving some of the physical pain, but the mental anguish had far surpassed the body. As if he could read my mind, his hands held my face and seemed to hold the heaviness of my thoughts, too.
My eyes stung. “It’s my fault.” Three simple words, spoken aloud. An admission of guilt once again. The weight from letting a piece of my darkest secrets out was almost crushing.
“Oh, sweetheart, no,” he admonished. “Why would you even think that?”
“She doesn’t feel good about herself.”
“And so it’s your fault she’s letting some guy hit her?”
My rationality said “no” but my guilty conscience said, “Yes, it is.”
His thumbs brushed my cheeks with soothing strokes. “How? How are you responsible for his actions? Or hers?”
“I bought the alcohol for her that night.” The memories ripped through me, fresh as if they were from yesterday, but oddly I couldn’t seem to stop myself from confiding in Adam. “I’d just turned twenty-one. Kate and her friends were underage. I thought they were staying in but they took it to a party. She’d called me three times begging me to come get her but I didn’t want to leave my dorm and drive all the way back up here. Don’t you see? If I would have just gone and gotten her she would have never been in that accident. She would never have gotten into a car and tried to drive. She was perfectly healthy and I ruined that.”
“Oh, babe. No. It’s not your fault.” He swallowed hard and pulled me to his chest. “It’s not your fault.”
“The scars… the seizures… She’s letting that bastard abuse her. I saw the marks on her neck. I know what strangulation looks like, Adam. I’ve seen it before.” My breath hitched. “Women… at the hospital… I’ve seen it before.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“How?”
“I don’t know, but no woman deserves to be hit. I’ll make some calls and do a background check for priors. Whatever it takes, babe.” He ran his fingers through my hair and kissed my face, my forehead, soothing me. “Whatever it takes.”
“My mom had enough to worry about tonight. Kate, my cousins, my family.” I sniffed. “She didn’t need to be worrying about me, too.”
“Sweetheart, you can’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You can’t. That shit will break you. Trust me, I know. It broke me. Look at me.” He held my face. “I’m here. Right here. You’re not alone in this.”
His eyes were laced with sincere concern. His hands skated over the ropes binding my arms, inspecting. “Are you in pain? Is the rope hurting you?”
I shook my head and wiggled my arms. “It’s not that comfortable but no, it doesn’t hurt. You can untie me now.”
He brushed my hair away from my face. “You mean a lot to me, Erin.” His fingers slipped underneath the bindings at every point where they wrapped around my arms. “I want this. Us.”
I let his words soak in, trying to erase my dejected emotions with the admission he just laid out. “I want it, too. I do.” I also wanted to believe he was interested in something more than playing with me until he’d had his fill and I would be left a broken shell of a woman again. “I’ve never told… anyone… about Kate’s accident.” It was hard to speak; my confession was choking me. “No one knows I bought the alcohol for them.” She didn’t want me to go to jail again.
“We all have secrets.” Adam wiped my face with his fingertips until he covered my mouth with his. His fingers fanned into my hair, holding me fast, as though he was taking in my pain as his own. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. You know that, right?”
No matter how I painted it, it was and always would be my fault.
“I want to hear you say it out loud.”
“I can’t.”
“Say it,” he ordered, his fingers pressing into my scalp. “It’s not your fault.”
Oh, but it is. I provided the booze. I put her in peril. Our foreheads rested together, but I was still trapped in my own head, hearing my mom berating me for not being there for Kate when she needed me. Little did my parents know…
Adam gently sucked my top lip between his teeth, stopping my head from shaking. “Say it.”
I relinquished my hold, albeit reluctantly. My lie sputtered out in a sob with my deeply embedded regret. “It’s not my fault.” But it is and always will be.
His fingers tensed behind my ears. “That’s right. It’s not.” His grip gentled and he drew in a deep, steadying breath. “It’s not mine, it’s not yours. We didn’t pull that trigger. They did. It was their decision to do that, not ours. Not ours, baby. Understand?”
His breathing became slightly erratic, making me acutely aware that he was no longer talking about my sister. His burdens flowed from his lips right into mine, both of us needing a lifeline to keep from drowning in our sorrows. I nodded, forcing myself to agree with him, wanting for just a second to let go of the guilt.
My poor, wronged man.
His tongue slipped over mine, replacing the isolating loneliness with a flood of unbridled need. His hands were in my hair, on my neck, squeezing my thighs, my rear, washing my pain away with each touch.
He pushed my skirt up, bunching it around my waist, squeezing the fabric in his fists. I felt his desperate hunger right through the indents he was making on my skin. It mirrored my own.
I was so aroused. It was difficult to breathe. I wanted the use of my hands. “Untie me.”
Adam’s mouth skimmed my jaw. “No.”
It was a firm, yet playful answer. His tongue swirled with mine, cutting off my ability for rebuttal.
His hand slipped between my legs, rasping glorious friction back and forth. Back and forth. Pulling me into this glorious world where I didn’t have to think. I’ve lost control to what he does to my body. My head lolled with heaviness; it was hard to focus on anything other than where he touched me. How he touched me. My body was his to do with as he pleased. He continued to heighten my arousal over the lining of my stockings, over the additional layer of underwear beneath, both of which I was starting to loath.
“Adam…” I needed more, more of this exhilarating euphoria. He had me aching for it and yet I couldn’t do anything about it.
“Shh. I know,” he whispered on the edge of my mouth, rolling his fingertips with maddening precision. He had me panting, swirling in a whirlwind of sensations while the quickening started to form into a path of glorious relief. It was like being on a Merry-Go-Round, spinning and spinning and then screeching to a dizzying halt when his hand slipped away.
He gripped my waist and sat up. “Stand up.”
An order? A simple request? It didn’t matter. My body was on autopilot, answering him autonomously as I scurried back. He helped me to my feet, guiding my hips to hold me steady. Warm chocolate eyes gazed at me with sheer determination. His focus narrowed with what I could only describe as heated reverence while he slowly unzipped my skirt.
It was difficult to swallow; I was slightly lightheaded.
Adam hooked his fingers over the waistband of my black tights and tugged, dragging my underwear off with them. Feeling his soft kiss on my hip, his hands pressing down the backs of my thighs, made me unsteady on my feet.
As soon as he freed me from my undergarments, he pulled me back over his thighs and adjusted my knees to his liking. His thumb drifted, skating over my leg, making agonizing passes very close but not where I needed it the most.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, taking his good old time trailing his hands a
ll over my body, painting imaginary lines and heavenly swirls. Even though my arms were bound he somehow made me feel like I was an extraordinary present, a gift he’d been waiting to open his entire life. Each patch of flesh he exposed was something to be felt, appreciated, and savored. His fingertips tickled, radiating the awakening.
“All mine,” he said while slipping my opened blouse over my shoulders. He ran his hand down my throat, over my sternum, and down to my pubic bone, blazing a path of inner destruction. His fingers skated over the top of my left breast, down and around, slipping the cup of my bra out of his way.
“Nice,” he whispered, drawing circles around my nipple. Watching him enjoy himself as he uncovered my other breast was an exhilarating experience, knowing I had the power to make him this way. He was mesmerized, enthralled, and yet completely focused.
He wet the tip of his thumb, preparing, luring me with want, making me clench in anticipation.
He shifted my thighs apart and went in for the kill, rolling the pad of his rigid thumb up and down and around in agonizing circles over and over again while he filled his mouth with my breast. My body was tensed and yet languid and electrified; I lost the ability to control my lungs when he pushed his finger up inside me.
Adam unbuckled his leather belt and lowered his zipper, shoving clothing down and out of his way. His thumb stilled while our breath mingled together. “Shit, I don’t have a condom down here.” He nipped at my jaw. “Fuck.”
Insane need drew our mouths back together, as if we’d suffocate without each other. Thoughts of having to stop, to separate and disconnect, had me groaning at the interruption. His eyes questioned me. Do we/don’t we? I couldn’t bear with the idea of losing our intensity.
“It’s okay,” I breathed. I sucked on his lip, my body primed for a leap of faith.
His tongue reached for mine. “You said… IUD?”
“I do. Please.” I didn’t know what I was even asking for. “Just don’t, inside me.”
“Okay, I won’t. I promise.” His hand gripped the back of my neck, holding me fast to his mouth, while his teeth scraped where his lips just sucked. His kiss alone had the power to make me forget all of my worries, falling further for him with each kiss. His tongue wrapped around mine, absorbing my gasp when he penetrated me with his finger. He rubbed inside me, in and out, in and out, barraging my body with sharp sensations and sweet melodies. He was unrelenting, building the quickening inside me.
I groaned when his hand slipped away.
Adam stared right into my eyes. “You sure?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
His breathing was rough, his eyes speculative, as though he was expecting me to change my mind. I really wasn’t sure but I was in a near state of frenzy, my need eradicating all rational thought. He was right. Shibari was completely liberating.
The only thing I cared about was getting him inside me, binding us together once again.
He narrowed his focus and gripped himself, rubbing the plump head of his cock around in my body’s natural wetness. His strained determination softened when he was fully seated inside me.
“Erin,” he whispered. It was more than my name; it was an utterance of a promise, the shared feeling of comfort and serenity that only coming home can invoke.
Home.
He guided our bodies as we gave in to the need and connected us in ways that no other dance could ever do.
There was no walking away anymore—not without leaving a huge section of my heart behind.
I RESTED MY head on the couch and rocked her hips back and forth, needing to get deeper inside her while she rode me.
Her silk blouse was hanging back onto her shoulders like a birthday present ripped open in unrestrained haste. Her arms were gloriously bound together in my red rope, giving me the gift of her unconditional surrender wrapped neatly with a red bow. I slid my hand down the column of her throat, feeling her quake under my touch.
Her pleasure was mine for the taking, mine to dictate and master. I may have pulled her on top of me, letting her assume some measure of control, but this was my show. I rolled my hips up into her with extra vigor, watching each fine nuance of her heightening enjoyment twist her expressions.
She was my fantasy and my dream; my end and my beginning.
I pulled her mouth back to mine, my head spinning each time she raised her hips. Her fast lifts mixed with my slow grinds, driving me out of my mind. She gave me exactly what I needed without me having to ask. I wanted to disappear inside her and never surface.
I’d never been…
Never felt…
Fuck. Spots were forming in my eyes.
This had to be a glimpse at Heaven because there was no other explanation for it. Partial words and guttural noises escaped with each of my breaths, making absolutely no sense but somehow she was right there with me, answering me right back.
I held on, feeling my internal damage healing every time she looked into my eyes, every time her wet mouth rested on mine, through every breath we shared. I’d been guarded, but she was stripping me. I could only hope I was stripping her just as bare, that my perseverance would eliminate her reservations.
We may not have known each other very long, but I knew with absolute certainty that we just fit. Physically. Emotionally. It was beyond want. I needed her.
I slid down and spread her thighs farther apart, needing to keep these incredible sensations sustained. Being inside her like this, fucking her skin on skin, was so much better. Each glide magnified, each internal squeeze and flutter better than the last. I pressed my thumb down on her clit, needing her to come before I did. I could tell she was getting tired and I was getting close; just watching my cock sliding in and out of her was making my balls tighten.
I took her with short, fast strokes, keeping my cock buried as deep as I could go, watching her hair fall over her beautiful face as the orgasm took her breath away. I fucked her with everything I had, slamming up in her with the singular focus to take her to places she’d never been before, prove some point to both of us that she didn’t need to run or worry or fear opening herself up to me. She could relinquish control to me and trust I’d always do right by her.
Always, baby. Always.
Watching Erin unravel was my undoing but I needed to feel every flutter, every internal convulsion to make sure her orgasm was complete before letting go myself. I pulled out just in time, catching most of it between my fingers as I finished stroking off.
A trickle of sweat ran down the side of my cheek while Erin rested her face on mine, steaming up my neck. I tugged her hair, putting her mouth back on mine where it belonged.
But as much as I wanted to just hold her, come down from this incredible ride by kissing her, my right hand and stomach were coated. I needed to clean us up before I made more of a mess.
Worry that she’d been bound too long and might become injured in some way was adding to my restlessness. I kissed her once for good measure and patted her ass, letting her know without saying the words how I was feeling.
“Need you to get up, Doc. Easy. Go slow.”
I helped her off of me without touching her with my sticky hand, hating the frown that marred her post-coital bliss. I kissed her forehead, appreciating her. “Let me clean up quick.” I checked her arms, her wrists and fingers, and then her eyes for any signs of distress. Meeting her physical and emotional needs also made me completely responsible for her care. Rope play was not something to take lightly, and I was already fucking up her aftercare by not being prepared with a towel. I urged her to sit down, holding her steady. “Are you okay like that?”
Erin rolled her shoulders. Strands of hair hung across her face, masking me out. “Yeah.”
I hurried, yanking my boxers up along the way. Untying her was top priority, right after I washed my hand off.
I sat behind her, untying my knots carefully, murmuring soft words of encouragement. As soon as I had her undone, I rubbed over every place my rope had touched her sk
in. I was gentle but could feel the distance growing between us when she pulled away. I knew she needed time to process our first rope bondage encounter but I couldn’t let her slip too far. It was scaring me.
As soon as she stood to retrieve her discarded skirt, I knew I had to act fast. I tugged the black fabric out of her fingers and snagged the fleece blanket off the back of the couch. She was in my arms within the next breath. I bundled her up and urged her to relax with me, locking her between my body and the back of the couch.
“I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. Please don’t withdraw on me.”
A small giggle followed, but her smile was measured and forced and didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I won’t.”
She was far from convincing. Every muscle in my body started preparing for the worst, fighting against the desire to collapse after an amazing session of fucking the shit out of her. But bondage came with rules, ones that I needed to see to immediately, especially since she was coming back into her own headspace. I played with her fingers, needing to keep the connection.
“I need to know something,” I asked, checking her arms again, assuring myself that the rope didn’t mar her skin. She seemed okay but I kissed her softly anyway because I needed to. I was physically drawn to her—that was a given. But the emotional pull was becoming just as natural.
“Hmm?”
A little redness remained, but she wasn’t chaffed, thank God. I wanted to see the truth in her eyes. “Why did you think I wouldn’t care to know what’s upsetting you?”
Her mouth curled down, and I lost her gaze to the back of the couch.
“Erin.”
She shrugged. “Most guys don’t. You’ve done so much for me today, I didn’t want to push it. Too much heavy is never a good thing.” She actually looked worried. “It’s a recipe for disaster.”
It was hard not to get pissed off. “Is that what the last guy had you believing?”
“Last guy?” She laughed. “Try every guy.”
Did she actually believe the words coming out of her mouth? Maybe I should kiss her; derail her from this path.
“Come on, Adam, you can’t honestly tell me that you want to deal with the heavy emotional stuff.”
