No Excuses

by Nikky Kaye

  Forget the drycleaners. His pants were a complete loss. I tried to rub back and forth on him, desperate for some friction. My nipples rose in hard points against his palms. I had never been so turned on in all my life. Granted, my life had been fairly short until then.

  There was so much freedom in being invisible to him. I felt like I could revel in my arousal, let all my inhibitions go, and he couldn’t see the expressions on my face. With a blindfold on, he wasn’t my boss. He was just… Gage.

  My gasp was loud as his thigh found a hidden spot on me. His hands went to my hips, stopping my ascent. “Easy. Not yet.”

  I warmed all over, my brain turning to mush once he kissed me again.

  No light brush against my lips this time—his tongue swept inside my mouth, taking my breath away along with all my inhibitions. His kiss was as demanding and uncompromising as he was, and all I could do was try to meet him halfway. His hands slipped under the robe around my lower back, his fingers digging into the fleshy dimples above my ass.

  “How far are you prepared to go?” he whispered against my lips.

  CHAPTER TEN

  MADDIE

  “I’ll do whatever you say, sir. “ All my good sense had been overcome by arousal. I was his to command.

  “Good girl. Open my pants.”

  With what—my teeth? My eyes widened at the large bulge under the fly of his charcoal wool slacks, but I was still restrained by my terrycloth straightjacket.

  “I can’t, my arms—”

  “Oops, my bad. I’ll help you.” He let go of me just long enough to slip open the button at his waist and unzip. His erection, barely contained by his stretchy black boxer briefs, swelled forth.

  My mouth went a little dry as I looked down. Any rational thought I had then left my head as he squeezed himself and groaned.

  “Fuck, Madeline. You make me crazy.”

  Before I could even take another breath, he tugged down his briefs and pulled out his cock. He was long and thick, dark with engorgement and shiny at the tip. His fist wrapped around it like it was second nature, moving up and down while he stared into my eyes.

  “Rise up on your knees,” he ordered.

  I did, lifting my breasts closer to his mouth. I wobbled a little, struggling to keep my balance with my arms behind my back.

  “Ah!” I yelped as he leaned forward to take a nipple into his mouth. He rolled it on his tongue then sucked hard. A line of fire shot from my breast to my pussy, making me jerk. “The other one too,” I panted.

  He let it fall from his lips with a wet pop as he shook his head. “Still think that sight is the most powerful sense, Madeline?”

  Maybe he was right. I could see everything he was doing to me, but I felt naked, needy and totally helpless.

  My position above his lap, my knees on either side of his thighs, opened me up but left me powerless to chase the sensations vibrating through me. I huffed in frustration, growing even more irritated when he just laughed softly at my need.

  “Take a leap of faith, Madeline.”

  He opened my robe to fully expose me. His forehead furrowed above the blindfold. “Fuck, I wish I could see you right now.”

  I wished he could, too.

  He trailed a finger from my quivering belly to the damp curls at my core, before his wrist twisted to slowly ease two thick fingers into me. “How does that feel?”

  I groaned then tilted my hips to follow his hand.

  “No.” He pulled out his fingers, leaving me clenching and grasping for him. I wanted to scream with frustration. “You need to commit to this, Madeline.”

  “I am! Just… more, Gage.”

  There. Committed.

  “Fuck this,” he growled. “I need to see you.”

  He tugged off the blindfold, dragging his fingers through his dark hair and blinking. The blue of his irises barely adjusted, swallowed up by his arousal.

  “Beg me to fuck you, Madeline.”

  My breath was short in my chest, my body burning. Gage’s eyes weren’t the proverbial windows to his soul—they were one-way glass, where I saw my own desire reflected. It was too much.

  “Please, sir.” But I closed my eyes as I said it. “Please fuck me.”

  With a satisfied grunt, he slipped out from underneath me and grabbed my ankles, yanking my legs so that I flopped onto my back with a surprised cry. Lying back on the discarded robe, I was able to get my hands out of the sleeves, but when I reached for him, I felt the swift burn of him pulling the rope out from underneath me.

  “Gage!”

  “Madeline.” Swiftly he doubled the length of rope, then grabbed my hands and pushed them above my head. He wrapped it around my wrists then looped it in between them like handcuffs.

  Oh god, he was tying me up. And unlike my lame knots, it appeared as though he had been a Boy Scout at some point.

  He knelt between my legs, his hot, hard length bobbing between us as he braced himself over me. The lapels of his shirt fell around us like white curtains, tickling my ribs. He ran his thumb over my throbbing pulse, just where the rope rubbed my wrist.

  “Do you want to quit?” he asked.

  I shook my head. If I wanted to, I could probably bring my arms down in a circle around his neck in an embrace. But I wouldn’t, not yet.

  Despite being restrained and physically dominated, Gage’s position over me didn’t scare me. I wouldn’t say I felt confident, exactly, but not intimidated either. His intensity was overwhelming, but there was a freedom in being passive, in lying here and taking whatever he wanted to give me. His gaze swept over me then pinned me down just as neatly as his hands did. Dark with desire, his eyes held me, reassured me.

  “Do you trust me?”

  I nodded, my throat aching.

  “Out loud, Madeline.” His voice was low as he bent down to run his tongue down my neck.

  “Yes!”

  “Yes, what?”

  What more did he want? My head swam. “Uh, yes, sir?”

  He growled. Okay, that wasn’t what he wanted. Holding the rest of the rope in one hand like I was on a leash, with his other hand he flipped me onto my stomach and bent my arms until my hands reached down my back. I felt a twinge in my shoulders and triceps, but it was like a good stretch at the gym, not painful.

  I was still processing that feeling when bent my knees and wound the rope around my ankles, my heels almost brushing my ass.

  “Ungh!”

  The stretch in my quads surprised me, but again it didn’t hurt. If anything, it felt good after the strain on my muscles today.

  I turned my head, trying to see exactly what Gage was doing. He looped the rope between my ankles just as he did my wrists, then tugged gently until I was curved like a bow. My lower back arched, my belly pressed into the bed, and I hung from his grasp like a marionette.

  This was different from the spaghetti dinner experiment the night before.

  “Do. You. Trust. Me?” he said in my ear, making me shiver.

  He was kidding, right? “Well, it sure looks that way!”

  When I wriggled, the ropes tightened to the point of biting.

  He smacked my ass with one hand, the other still holding the rope. “You have to commit, Madeline. Don’t fight it or it will hurt. Give yourself over to me and trust that I’ll take care of you.”

  Now I felt intimidated. I had thought that being tied up meant not making any decisions, and now he wanted me to choose this, choose him. This leap of faith was just as frightening as jumping off a forty-foot telephone pole. I knew that I could say no, knew that I could quit. Of course, Gage did not want me to quit, but he would release me the second I said “red light” or whatever.

  I relaxed my muscles, easing my body into limp submission. I had to make the decision to be an inactive participant, willing but disabled. It didn’t matter if I was blind or restrained or if I had industrial-strength earplugs in.

  I would be his.

  “I—I trust you.” Don’t make me reg
ret it, I prayed inwardly.

  He sighed as I melted into the bed. My knees spread apart, as did my elbows, until I almost resembled the shape of an X.

  “Oh, Maddie. You are so fucking gorgeous.”

  He moved behind me, slackening my bonds. Then he took the end of the rope and tied it to the knotty pine and wrought iron headboard. When I pulled on it, the only effect was to bow me more and tighten the rope cuffs around my wrists and ankles.

  “Relax,” he said, stroking my shin.

  I rolled my eyes. Easy for him to say—he wasn’t tied up like a calf at a rodeo. He was right though; the more I fought it, the more uncomfortable I would be. I had to trust him.

  He slid his hands between my hips and the quilt and scooted me a little closer to the headboard, then lay down on the pillows, perpendicular to me. My thigh rested on his shoulder as he wedged himself in between my legs. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but his tongue stabbing into my core wasn’t at the top of the list.

  “Gage! Shit!”

  With one hand, he reached underneath me to find my hot little “on” button, and flicked the switch, while he luxuriated in the arousal spilling from me. The flat of his tongue dragged over me roughly from my entrance to my crack, making me shudder and arch my back. As the rope tautened again, Gage pressed his hand into the small of my back.

  “Just open up for me. I’ll make you feel so good,” he promised. Then he dove back into lapping up my juices, the strong point of his tongue leading where the rest of him wanted to follow.

  I drove my forehead into the bedspread with a tight sigh, beyond frustrated that I couldn’t touch him. He was right; seeing him wasn’t enough.

  With one curled finger, he found a place inside me that made me feel frantic. I squirmed, warning him with a whine. “Oh god, noooo… I’m gonna—”

  “It’s okay, Maddie. Just let it go.”

  He added another finger to tease at that crazy spot on the inner wall behind my clit. My body was overloaded with sensation—his fingers beckoning, his tongue catching, his nose nudging, his hand branding me.

  “Oh fuck, I’m coming!” My chin rose off the bed, my teeth grinding together and my head tilting up and back as I fought to control the sensation ripping through me. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

  This was what powerlessness felt like. It was freedom and fear wrapped up in one stomach-clenching moment.

  I couldn’t help flailing a little, making the rope bite enough to add an extra layer of intensity to my orgasm. Gage didn’t relent, not even slowing his ministrations until I was panting and boneless.

  Barely aware that he’d swiftly undone my bonds, I tried to catch my breath.

  My arms and legs fell to the bed, embarrassment flooding my body. The bed rebounded a little as Gage got off and disappeared into the other room. It would have been a perfect time to escape, to slink away in a blaze of mortification—if my limbs could receive any messages from my brain.

  He returned with a damp facecloth, which he gently dragged over my oversensitive body. It made me shiver, but didn’t cool me down. I raised my head to see his semi-hard cock bouncing a little at the top of his pants. He looked a little uncomfortable and a lot fully dressed. My heart was still pounding in my chest like a drum.

  “And that was just the foreplay,” he said.

  Holy shit. Were we really going to do this? We wouldn’t be able to come back from having sex.

  Then again, it wasn’t like it would be easy to forget that he’d just discovered my G-spot.

  “I want you, Madeline.”

  I rolled onto my side to watch him take off his clothes. He removed them so efficiently that I was almost surprised when he didn’t fold them into neat piles. Every inch of skin, every taut muscle and hair revealed on his body took another breath from me, until I was panting with anticipation. Again.

  He knelt on the bed beside me, his thighs cradled by my curled up body. I could feel the heat of his body, could smell his skin and the arousal glistening at the tip of his cock, bobbing just out of reach of my mouth. I swallowed hard.

  “Condom?” I managed.

  His entire being stiffened, then sagged. “Goddammit.” He sighed. “I don’t suppose you have one?”

  I tilted my head back to look at him. “Just what kind of girl do you think I am, Mister Gage?” It was kind of a rhetorical question, I realized as he surveyed my naked, blushing body on the bed.

  “A prepared, responsible one?”

  I hated to dash the hope in his voice. “I already told you I wasn’t a Girl Scout.” But it was so tempting… I reached out to wrap my hand around his hardness, making him hiss. Not all of him had wilted. And I definitely wanted to return the favor… I squeezed tighter, making him moan.

  He rocked his hips into my touch, his eyes closing briefly. “I suppose one of us should be responsible, then.”

  “I could—” I was surprised to find his fingers on mine, prying my hand away.

  He shifted back off the bed, crouching to the floor to look me in the eye where I lay. “No.”

  Oh.

  Maybe he could detect my own disappointment or insecurity, because he placed his hand over my mouth to silence my protest. “I want you, Madeline. Jesus, don’t ever doubt that. But the first time you make me come, it’s not going to be down your pretty throat or in your fist.”

  His words made my body clench in reaction. But I nodded.

  He touched my face. “You understand, Maddie? I’m all in. And I want to be deep inside you, not spilling into your hands like a teenager.”

  I licked my lips. “I want to taste you.”

  His groan filled the air between us. “You’re killing me, here. If you—” He broke off, brushing his forehead against the bedspread. “I might just lose control and say ‘fuck it.’”

  “So?”

  “So, I won’t be reckless, not with you.”

  “You’re never reckless, Gage.” Although, I wasn’t sure how to qualify the last hour.

  His jaw twitched. “Yeah, well, this is not the best time and place to start.”

  His gentlemanly behavior touched me, even if the hot, hard heart of him didn’t. He gathered me up in his arms and carried me into his bathroom, which had a bigger tub than mine did, with jets. In a moment, the faucet was on at full blast, the tub filling with water and the room muggy.

  “It’s okay, Madeline,” he said softly, kissing the top of my head. I smiled. Of course, it was okay—I was in his arms.

  He helped me into the tub, where he’d already thrown all the hand towels and facecloths to soak up the hot water. Those, he draped over my arms and legs like he was prepping casts for my broken nerve endings.

  “Maddie, you did so great. I’m so proud of you, baby.” He soothed me with his voice, hands and lips—and a tube of cream that he smoothed over the tender parts of my body. The smell of the cream mixed with the earthy smell of his skin, and I wanted to drink it all in.

  His touch was reverent and so light it almost felt like he was leaving butterfly kisses all over my body. Despite the delicacy of his care, when I looked in his eyes he left deep marks within me.

  This could become a habit. “No excuses next time, okay?” I said.

  “No excuses,” he promised.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  GAGE

  Within five minutes of Madeline passing out, it was obvious that rest would not come for me until I took care of business. The tub was still warm, so I stripped and slipped into the water. Once I lay back with my knees up and my hand fisting my cock, it didn’t take long to finish.

  Once I slipped into bed beside her, my skin still hot from the bath, my brain refused to shut down even though my body was spent.

  I kept staring at Madeline, taking the opportunity to memorize the curve of her ear and the exact color of her lips. Her courage and commitment impressed me more than the soft lines of her body and the sounds and taste of her climax. When I finally fell asleep, it was to d
ream of her as a mermaid trapped in a fisherman’s net.

  When I woke up Sunday morning, the coolness of the sheets beside me indicated that Madeline had been gone for a while. I fished the robe out of the closet and shoved my arms in the sleeves, determined to find her.

  I didn’t have to look far.

  She was dressed in her matching robe, sitting on the couch with her feet on the postage stamp coffee table and her laptop open. The smell of coffee lingered in the room, but twenty bucks said that the full cup by her feet was stone cold. Absorbed in her screen, she didn’t even hear me come up to the back of the couch.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Aaahhh!”

  There went the coffee, as her flailing foot connected with the mug. We both watched the liquid arc out and land on the floor like a rainbow. She swiveled around and glared at me.

  “You have to stop sneaking up on me like that.” She shut her laptop, her arms not so casually resting on it.

  I shrugged. “I can’t help it if you don’t pay attention. What are you doing?” It had looked like she was online, but it was mostly text-based.

  “Nothing.”

  The robe had fallen open to show off her legs, and if I leaned over the back of the couch and looked down, I could peek into the gaping vee above where she’d belted it. Her hair had dried into a wavy auburn mess while she slept which I swept into my hand and wound around my fist. Her head tilted back when I tugged, so she looked at me almost upside down.

  “Tell me?” I wouldn’t force her, but I was curious. “I want to know about you. More about you.”

  She wrinkled her nose in thought. “I hate the color pink.”

  “Okay. Random, but a good example, I guess.” I moved around the couch, avoiding the coffee-soaked carpet, and sat beside her on the loveseat. There was no need to sit so close, but I liked the way her thigh melded to mine. “What else?”

  “I have an irrational fear of spiders and I like sleeping alone.” She arched an eyebrow at me.

  It was probably foolish to smile so much this early in the morning, but I couldn’t help it. “I’m sure you could get over it if you tried.”