Drawn That Way

by Bronwyn Green

  “Was there something you wanted?” he asked.

  “I want you to touch me.”

  “I am touching you.” His tone was perfectly reasonable, as if he wasn’t purposely torturing her.

  “Damn it, Rory,” she groaned.

  “Tell me what you want me to do,” he murmured darkly.

  She grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast.

  “Use your words,” he chided, letting his hand fall away.

  She sighed and closed her eyes. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see him the way she was facing, but it was easier to get the words out this way. “I want you to touch my breasts.”

  He lifted his hands and cupped them, but didn’t do anything else.

  “And play with my nipples…pinch them.”

  “Better,” he encouraged.

  Her eyes flew open, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his fingers twisting and pinching her aching flesh. There was something so insanely arousing about seeing his hands on her body. A fresh rush of moisture slicked her cleft. She needed more. Canting her hips up into nothingness, she murmured, “Please. Please touch my pussy. Make me come.”

  He tweaked her nipples one last time then slid both hands down over her belly to tease her outer lips and moving inexorably inward until he was stroking her from opening to clit. He tapped at the little bundle of nerves on each upstroke. It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough.

  “I need more,” she gasped, lifting her hips into his hands.

  “More what? Tell me.”

  “I—I don’t know. Just more. Harder. Rougher. More.”

  Without warning, his hand came down and smacked her clit. She jumped, squealing and moaning at the impact.

  It hadn’t been as hard as he’d spanked her arse, but the slap still stung her sensitive flesh. Despite the smarting twinge, there was pleasure there, too. It twined with the ache, making both more acute.

  “Like that?” he asked silkily.

  The only response she could make beyond unintelligible noises was, “Again.”

  He dipped his fingers inside her then smacked her again, his damp skin stinging a little more this time. Pleasure-tinged pain sang through her body, and she cried out. He did it over and over again while she jerked helplessly on his lap. God, she was so close to coming, she didn’t want him to stop. But she couldn’t have verbalized that if she’d tried.

  A knock sounded on Rory’s door, startling both of them. He clapped one of his hands over her mouth, but he didn’t stop slapping her clit.

  “Quiet, now. You don’t want anyone to hear you and open the door and see you coming all over me.”

  Another smack and the sound of his whispered words in her ear was all it took to send her over. Her body stiffened as her back arched, and she thrust urgently into his hand, nearly drowning in the intense pleasure that ripped through her body.

  Finally, she fell still, slumping against him, grateful he’d thought to cover her mouth. If he hadn’t, she was pretty sure anyone left in the building would know exactly what she sounded like when she came.

  He lifted his hand from her mouth. “Watching you come half-terrified someone would walk in and half-hoping they would was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  She looked over her shoulder and frowned at him. “I wasn’t hoping someone would walk in.”

  “I don’t know about that.” The corners of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “I think you might have some latent exhibitionism going on.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Please tell me that door was locked.”

  He grinned. “Right after Annie and Clover left. If you were interested, I didn’t want to take any chances that my plans for you would be interrupted.”

  She felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Good thing they weren’t.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” He shook his head, amusement glinting in his eyes.

  Her heart stumbled at his term of endearment.

  “What happened just now was all you. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. My plans involve tying you up. But if you want me to smack that pretty, little clit again, we can do that, too.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rory watched as Tristan’s pupils dilated and swallowed all but the outermost ring of green. She was magnificent. Knowing how new she was to any kind of play like this, he wanted to show her everything. Let her experience everything. He wanted to be the one to guide her. And he desperately wanted to be the one she opened herself to. He’d never get tired of watching her push past any lingering vulnerability to rush headlong into release. But, eventually, this would end. It had to. It was important that they got everything they could from this time together before that happened.

  “Go open the top left desk drawer.”

  Her brow furrowed a bit as she looked at him, but she got off his lap and walked to his desk while he enjoyed the view. He loved seeing how thoroughly she’d gotten past her self-consciousness.

  She cautiously pulled open the drawer, looking as though she thought there might be a nest of snakes inside. Reaching in, she lifted up a set of supple, black leather cuffs and stared at them for several long seconds before turning to him, a questioning glance on her face.

  Nodding, he motioned her back to him. She shut the drawer and returned to him, her thumb rubbing absently over the soft leather. “The other night you said something about wishing you’d had cuffs in your desk. And, now, you do.”

  He wasn’t sure what she was getting at, so he just waited.

  “When did you decide that you wanted more than a one-off?”

  He took the cuffs from her hand and unbuckled them. “Not until tonight. Not really.”

  “So, you just wanted to make sure you weren’t caught without them again the next time a situation like this arises?” He couldn’t tell, but he thought disappointment tinged her words.

  He stood and, stepping close to her, dragged the leather along her cheek. “Have I been imagining you with these wrapped around your wrists? You secured, and at my mercy?”

  Her nipples tightened, and she dampened her lips.

  “Absolutely,” he continued. “In fact, I thought about it so much this weekend that I jacked off picturing it.”

  Her gaze dropped to his groin where his pants were still open to reveal his painfully hard dick then back to his face.

  “But I didn’t completely change my mind until after the others left.” He trailed the cuffs over her shoulder and down her arms until he reached her wrist. “And, then, it wasn’t so much changing my mind as being unable to resist any longer.”

  “Oh.”

  That breathy, little sound nearly undid him. He dangled the cuffs in front of her. “Do you want to try these?”

  There was a pause, but she nodded.

  “Have you ever been restrained before?”

  She swallowed hard and laughed. “Only if you count the other night.”

  “You could have gotten out of that if you’d really wanted.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t want to.”

  Nervous excitement battered his gut. “You won’t be able to get out of these.”

  Staring into his eyes, she held out her wrists, and his nervous excitement turned darker. More intense.

  Without another word, he buckled each cuff around her wrist and led her to the corner by the punching bag. Attaching the cuffs together, he lifted her joined arms and affixed them to a hook hung on a chain from the ceiling. Her body was stretched out, and her breasts thrust beautifully forward. She was just short enough that she had to balance on the balls of her feet.

  “Are you okay?”

  She took a raspy breath and nodded. “So…you do this often enough that you installed a hook?” she asked, looking up at her arms.

  “No. There’s usually a different size bag that hangs there, but I took it down a few weeks ago because it was leaking sand. This is just a convenient coincidence. But I’m not complaining.”

  “I’m not sure, but
I don’t think I am, either.” Her smile was almost shy as she met his gaze.

  He skimmed his hands down her sides, following the line of her ribcage and waist, over the generous curve of her hips. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  Spinning her around, he held her hips steady and thrust against her ass. She arched her back and pushed herself into him. He groaned.

  “Problem?” she asked over her shoulder. He couldn’t see her expression, but he could hear the laughter in her voice.

  He thrust again. Harder this time, reveling in the sensation of his bare cock sliding between her equally bare ass cheeks, and she shuddered. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to her spine, trailing them up to her neck to whisper in her ear. “Touching you like this. Having you cuffed and at my mercy, makes me want things I shouldn’t.”

  “Like what?” she asked, her voice shaky.

  “It makes me want to pound into your cunt—with nothing between us. I want to feel your wet tightness wrapped around me, your hot juices scalding my skin.”

  The noise she made was somewhere between a whimper and a moan.

  “I want to fill you with my come and watch it run down your thighs when I pull out.” He wanted that so bad, he groaned again as he imagined it.

  “Jesus, Rory.”

  He moved to stand in front of her. “I wouldn’t.”

  “What?” She blinked slowly at him, almost as if waking.

  “I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that, right?”

  The hint of a smile curved her lips. “I know you wouldn’t. I trust you. If didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.” Her smile faded. “You just make me want things, too.” Before he could ask what she meant, she added, “And right now, I want you to fuck me. I need to feel you inside me.”

  There was part of him that wanted to know the things he made her want. And there was part of him that didn’t. If she wanted more than he could give, their time together would be over far sooner than he’d hoped. Or worse, he’d be tempted to give her whatever it was, and damn the consequences.

  He pushed both options out of his head, caught her breasts and pushed them together, drawing on one nipple then the other. Back and forth, sucking and biting until she was writhing with need.

  “Please,” she begged. “Please, I need…”

  “What do you need?”

  “I need to touch you.”

  He kissed his way up the side of her neck and traced her jaw line with his lips. He wanted to take her mouth—kiss her and just not stop. He’d never thought making kissing her one of his hard limits was going to tear him up the way it was.

  “You don’t like being restrained?”

  Her breathing turned rough. “I do. But I need to touch you.”

  “Do you think I’ll fuck you faster that way?”

  She swallowed hard but didn’t answer.

  He took off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. Her eyes roved over his torso down to where his dick still peeked from the top of his unzipped jeans. Turning his back on her, he walked to his desk and grabbed a condom from the drawer and returned to her, stroking his cock as he walked. She followed his every motion with her gaze.

  Stripping off the rest of his clothes, he stood in front of her naked and aching. “What if I just left you cuffed there and made you watch me get myself off?”

  “Now, you’re just being a tosser.” She frowned at him. “A tosser I still want to touch.”

  “Does that mean you’re ready to use your word and stop this?”

  “Everything stops?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Everything. Permanently.”

  “No.” She swore under her breath. It was hard to hear, but he was pretty sure he caught the word “fuckwit”.

  Grinning, he knelt in front of her and guided her feet up to stand on his thighs, bringing her pussy even with his mouth. “I didn’t get enough of a taste, earlier.” He stroked his hand down her left thigh. “Wrap your leg around my shoulder.” He glanced up at her as she did what he asked. “You’re going to need that for stability while you’re coming.”

  She pressed her lips together, almost stifling the whimper that escaped.

  He nuzzled her inner thighs, before spreading her curl-covered mound to expose her slick folds. Pressing the flat of his tongue against her, he tasted her sweet flesh, groaning as her juices filled his mouth. He could do this every day and still not get enough of her. For a brief, and terrifying, moment, he wondered if there was such a thing as enough when it came to Tristan.

  But her harsh breathing and canting hips chased the worry out of his head. He traced her opening with his fingertip before sliding the digit into her pussy. She cried out at the invasion, her inner grip bearing down on him. He pumped in and out of her as he teased her clit with the tip of his tongue.

  “More,” she said on a groan.

  He added a second finger and worked her faster and deeper. Her legs shook as she drew closer to the edge. Shifting his hand, he slid a fingertip farther back to stroke the taut bud of her anus.

  She stiffened briefly in shock as he teased it again then shook uncontrollably as her release washed over her. Her cream flooded his tongue, and his name sounded as if it were torn from her throat. He wrung one orgasm out of her after another until finally her knees buckled and she hung limply from the cuffs.

  Helping her step back off his thighs, he stood and lifted her head up, smoothing back the dark curtain of hair that had fallen around her face. Her eyes opened. For a moment, she looked a little disoriented, and he worried that he’d pushed her too far.

  “Tristan?”

  Her head lolled slightly, but she met his gaze.

  “I’m going to unhook your restraints. I want you to lean against me to help you keep your balance, okay?”

  She nodded.

  He reached up and released the cuffs from the hook and quickly unbuckled them, taking them off her wrists. She winced as she lowered her arms and placed her hands on his waist. He gently massaged her upper arms and shoulders, helping restore her circulation.

  She raised her eyes to his, and all he saw in their depths was need. A raw, aching need he suspected was an exact mirror of his own. His hands slid up her neck to cup her face, and he knew, just as surely as he knew there was no way to stop it, he was about to ignore one of the only limits he’d ever had.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tris couldn’t tear gaze away from Rory if she wanted to. It wasn’t the way he held her face still in his big hands, his thumbs tenderly brushing across her cheekbones. It wasn’t the way that his eyes constantly dropped to her lips. It wasn’t even that it was painfully obvious that he wanted to kiss her. It was the battle to decide whether or not he was going to do it that played out so clearly on his face.

  For the briefest of seconds, she considered closing the distance between them and taking the decision out of his hands, but she quashed that thought. This was his limit. If he was going to disregard it, it needed to be his choice, not hers. The waiting was driving her batty. But it was his desperately whispered “fuck me” as he lowered his head to hers that just about killed her.

  His hands still on her face, he pulled her to him, claiming her mouth in an almost brutal kiss. There was nothing tentative about it—just a sense of overwhelming need and desperation. Crushing his lips to hers, he swept his tongue inside, stroking her, tasting her while he splayed his fingers through her hair as he angled her head to kiss her deeper.

  Twining her arms around his neck, she pressed her body to his, trapping his hot, hard length between them. There was no way she wasn’t kissing him back. She’d wanted this since he’d said it was off the list. But it was more than wanting something she wasn’t allowed to have. She wanted this connection with him. This intimacy. And she was terrified it would vanish just as quickly and unpredictably as it had arrived.

  Her fear worried her. She was becoming far too attached to him. Too attached to someone who’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in anything beyond the phy
sical. She wasn’t going to do something stupid like fall in love with him, but she might very well be developing an unhealthy need.

  Before she could think any more about it, he slid one of his hands down her back, pinning her to him and taking her down to the mat. He settled between her legs as he continued to devour her mouth, kissing her with a hunger that shattered her. If he wasn’t holding her so tightly, she was sure all the broken pieces of her body and soul would have flown away already.

  She lifted her hips, urging him to fill her. She wanted him inside her while he was kissing her. Preferably before he remembered his limits, came to his senses and stopped. She thought of his one rule. Was she a horrible person for not reminding him of it? Should she? Even as she questioned herself, she rocked against him, again.

  He reached between them and fitted the head of his cock to her opening. They both froze, and their eyes flew open at the sensation of hot, naked flesh against hot, naked flesh.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, sitting back on his knees and scanning around for the condom he must have dropped. Spotting it, he reached back and snagged it from the floor. He had it torn open and his shaft covered almost before she’d had time to blink. For what seemed like an eternity, he stared down at her.

  Tris held out her arms to him hoping he wasn’t about to change his mind. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if he did, but she knew it wouldn’t be pretty. Relief sluiced through her as he lowered himself back to the mat—back to her body. This time, when he notched his cock to her pussy, he didn’t pause. He just slid inside her, pushing past her grasping muscles to fill her completely. He ground himself against her pubic bone, sending stars shooting behind her eyelids. Goosebumps rose on her skin, and she forced open her eyes.

  As soon as he caught her gaze, he lowered his head and took her mouth again. Slower, gentler this time, but no less intense. The franticness had faded, but the need behind it was still there. She drove her hands through his hair, loving the way it curled through her fingers.

  Other than the first time he’d gone down on her, she hadn’t touched it. It had seemed too intimate a gesture. However, when his face had been buried between her legs, she’d needed something to cling to as she’d exploded. But now, with him kissing her as though she were more precious than oxygen, she gave in to her urges and touched him the way she’d been wanting to.