by Jesse Joren
His voice was deliberate and taunting. "Are you for real, Eva? Or just a little girl who asked for something she can't handle?"
"I'm not a little girl," I snapped, the floor hard under my hands and knees as I started toward the bed.
The tip of his boot nudged delicately between my legs as I made my way across the floor.
"Maybe not," he agreed. "It would be hard to fake this level of response. Once you're on that bed, we'll see how real you are."
My progress was careful. Every movement made the ropes pull in a new way, squeezing my breasts and tugging between my legs in a growing, aching arousal.
The faraway lights of Atlanta twinkled in the distance. What would anyone say if they saw the scene playing out under these soft lights?
Not that anyone would. Hex had planned too carefully and for too long. The intensity that surrounded him seemed to envelop me too, like the charged atmosphere before a storm.
The journey on my hands and knees seemed to take much longer than it actually did. At last I reached the soft brown flokati rug at the foot of the bed, glad to be off the hard floor.
I glanced at Hex from under my lashes, trying to read what was coming next. Something about his expression gave me a delicious feeling of power, the intoxicating rush of being desired.
Silence filled the loft as he walked around me again. The fine sheen of perspiration on my skin was from more than the brief exertion of crossing that smooth floor.
His fingers made a brief, delicate trail down my back, sliding under the ropes at the base of my spine. With one smooth motion he brought me to my tiptoes.
"Your bed missed you," he said, picking me up and tossing me onto my back. "Put your hands above your head."
I raised my arms slowly enough to be insolent. "I don't remember waking up in ropes," I said. "Shouldn't these come off?"
"They can," he agreed. There was the unmistakable rip of Velcro before something soft tightened around my wrists. "If you want to earn the privilege."
That made me wary. I'd heard that tone often at Walden, usually right before Hex got the better of me.
"What does that mean?"
"Exactly what I said. For example, spread your legs wide open, and I'll consider removing some rope."
"How is that a good deal for me?" I asked.
"Because I'm going to tie your legs anyway," he said, "And this way, you lose one set of ropes."
He reached down to the side of the bed and pulled up a wide strap near my ankle. "Your choice, Eva."
His tongue had been everywhere on me. He had been inside of me, had seen me in every possible way. Even so, it took everything I had to allow my legs to part, opening myself to his gaze.
"Wider," he said.
Hot blood slammed into my face. The tiny smile I saw around his eyes gave me the courage to raise my knees and let my thighs fall open as wide as they could go.
"Was that so hard?" he teased, restraining my other leg. The wide V of this position left me without a single secret.
Hex pulled out the knife he'd used earlier, slicing away ropes instead of my clothes. Soon my lower body was bare as he pulled away the ruined cords.
"You forgot something." I jerked my chin to indicate my rope bra.
"I did forget. Thanks for the reminder."
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out something soft and dark. Something that made me swallow hard.
"I'll never forget the look in your eyes when you saw these," he said, pulling on the gloves again. "What I remember even more was the feeling of being inside you, with nothing between us but leather."
He sat beside me on the bed, stroking my face in a cool caress. When he traced my mouth, an unmistakable bittersweet scent rose up from the leather.
"I told you that your scent would be on these gloves forever," he said. "These are never far from me because they hold part of you. So many times I've—"
His voice trailed off as his hands slid lower, holding my breasts inside their ropes. The slow, lazy circles of his fingertips brought my nipples to full attention, hard and aching. A moment later his mouth was on them, pulling with enough force to hurt.
"I have something for you," he whispered, and I felt his smile curve against the side of my breast. "Something you'll like. Eventually."
He reached for the bedside stand and opened the drawer. When he turned back to me, his hand was full of wooden clothespins. I had a good idea of where those were going.
My eyes felt saucer-huge as I stared at him.
"These first, I think," he said, squeezing my nipple taut and allowing the open clip to slide over it, all the way to the base.
Slowly he let go, allowing the tiny wooden jaws to sink into the tender flesh. Then the other nipple got the same treatment. The innocent-looking clothespins had a bite.
"I feel that." It took effort to keep my voice even.
His hand rattled the handful of clips with a soft, clacking rhythm.
"I'm sure you do," he said. "Every nerve is pulled tight. Imagine how it would have felt if you still had the other ropes."
What difference would ropes around my ass have made to my nipples? When Hex took a pin and trailed it lower, I understood.
"I'm not –"
He glanced up from running the pin around my navel, smiling a little. "Are you using the safe word?"
"Of course not. That's for when—" I stopped, confused.
"For when you think you can't handle it," he finished. "Is that what you're telling me?"
The clothespin made playful little nips at my bellybutton, working its way lower. Each tiny pinch made me squirm, but then cool leather was touching the heat between my thighs, tracing the silky wetness.
I swallowed hard. "No. I can handle it."
"Good," he said with a dark sliver of a smile.
At first the pressure of the clothespin barely registered. When he let it close fully, the bite of the wood into that swollen flesh tore a little scream from me.
Hex leaned over and began to lick my nipples again, his mouth hot and wet against them. The smooth rhythm of his tongue bounced the clips, blending the pleasure and pain.
Don't try to distract me. I know that trick…I…
Trick or not, it was irresistible. The sharp pain between my legs dulled to stinging awareness as he worked my breasts. The heat of pleasure seemed to trickle through me like a shot of Marie Laveau.
He reached down to tap the clothespin between my thighs. A ripple of pain and pleasure radiated from that aching bite. I took a deep breath and smiled.
I can handle this.
"Let's see if placing the rest of these will wipe away that satisfied little grin," he said. "You're a long way from done."
The next clothespin was set right against the first one, the sting a little worse. Then the next, then the next. They seemed to share some sort of evil telepathy, each new addition sending a current of pain back to the original pin.
I bit my lip to keep silent between gasps.
"Only a few more to go." Hex glanced at me, his eyes gleaming. "Unless you think it's too much."
It was too much, but the intense excitement building underneath the pain was an exquisite torture. Playing out this act with words on a screen hadn't prepared me for the reality.
Hex nudged the last clip into place, completing the ring of fire between my legs. His fingers found the valley between them, tracing my smooth wetness.
"I tested you once before," he said. "Let's see if tonight's result is the same."
With a slow, firm motion he slid two fingers high inside of me, my sleek moisture rubbing against the leather. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine that time had returned to that first night as Hex probed me with shocking intimacy.
The feel of him inside of me was a sweet, sharp pleasure alongside the growing sting of the clips. Now he would tease me as he had that first night and pull out of me before I could be satisfied.
Instead, his fingers pushed deeper, finding a hard litt
le place inside that made me writhe. His gloved thumb rested on the firmness of my clit, rotating in slow circles.
"I'm not in a hurry," he said. "Tonight is the full ride, over and over again."
I wanted to tell him that I had lied about something else. I wasn't really multi-orgasmic as I'd claimed online. So far I'd been able to disguise that fact, and now didn't seem like the time to start confessing.
"Ride, Eva," he said in that husky tone that made me melt. "You don't get up from this bed until you've finished. I'll be the judge of when that is."
The combination of those few, heated words and the feel of him inside of me was enough to kill any lingering inhibitions. A tiny groan left me as I contracted around his fingers, squeezing as hard as I could.
"Like that," he said, "but do it harder. Faster."
The straps on my legs reduced me to grinding my hips, bucking up and down on the bed. His hand cupped me harder, squeezing as the fingers pistoned in and out from my thrashing rhythm.
"Hex, I—"
"Shut the fuck up." His voice went lower as he pressed his thumb against my clit. "Do as you're told."
A wave of his scent hit me as he leaned closer, his gaze daring me to say anything else. A dim corner of my mind became aware of how hot I was, of the wet sounds coming from down below.
I'm going to cum all over his hand.
The raw power of that thought made me realize how close I was, how my body was already straining for release. Hex seemed to sense the change, his strokes coming faster and harder.
"Do it. Stop wasting my time and fucking do it. Right now."
My whole body strained against the straps, rising up from the bed as pleasure roared through me. There was no room for anything but that white-hot heat that seemed to start where his hand held me and spread all through me.
At some point my eyes had closed to savor every delicious sensation. When the pleasure began to ebb, I opened them to find Hex right above me. He leaned to kiss me, his tongue sliding against mine.
"Again," he whispered against my mouth. "You're not finished."
With a groan I broke my vow not to confess. "Hex, I can't. I want to, but—I'm sorry. I lied."
"You think that, but I know better."
His strokes picked up intensity again, reaching and finding the hardness of my G-spot, that place where my own fingers could never quite reach. The leather felt warm and wet now, tugging against that sensitive spot deep inside of me.
"Maybe a little more help," he said, using his thumb to stroke my clit faster. "Stop holding back."
I started to tell him it was impossible, but the sudden jolt of a second orgasm turned those words into a gasp. I strained against the bindings again, helpless under his slow, intimate rhythm inside of me.
The soft, firm thrust of his tongue into my mouth began to match the motion of his fingers. I couldn't speak or move, except to grind and strain against him as another bolt of pleasure ripped through me. And then again, as if I would never stop.
Eventually the sensations slowed. A soft brush against my nipples made me aware of pain as the pleasure receded. Suddenly the clothespins on my nipples were off, making me catch my breath again.
"Better to not know it's coming," Hex said, his hand still caressing deep inside of me. "The other ones might sting more."
Already I knew what he meant. Now that the orgasms weren't roaring through me, the wood's bite between my legs had become more cruel. I was going to feel all of this tomorrow.
Cool metal smoothness touched the sideswell of my breast as Hex used the knife to slice away the white ropes. Vivid red marks stood out against my skin as he pulled the lengths away. He bent to trace his lips against them, warm and slow.
"These are sexier than any lingerie," he said. "These marks suit you."
"As long as it's not permanent."
"Only a couple of hours," he said as he withdrew his hand from inside of me. His touch on the clothespins was feather-light but still almost unbearable.
He slid down the bed between my wide-apart legs, settling himself as he blew against my hot flesh. His fingers found my clit again.
"I've read about threading a string through a line of clothespins like this," he said, "then yanking them off all at once. It's called the zipper."
I couldn't hide my horror, and he laughed. "We have better ways. Be very still."
He leaned closer, licking around the first clothespin. The touch of his tongue against my sensitive skin made me realize that his face was right between my thighs, everything about me on display.
His teeth closed on the wood to press it open. There was a sharp flare of pain, eased when his lips surrounded the clip and brushed my skin with warmth. One smooth pull, and the clothespin was gone.
Hex looked up at me, his eyes laughing as he held the clip between his teeth. Another smooth, deep stroke of his fingers made me melt again. He let the clip drop onto the bed.
"Pace yourself," he said with another flash of that dark smile. "There are a dozen more to go."
With slow care he worked his way around to remove all of the clips. The jolts of pain were lost behind the growing exciting of having his lips on me, of the feel of the leather inside of me. Even so, I could feel the swelling that the wooden bites had left behind.
At the last clothespin, Hex shifted his body and glanced up at me again. The subdued light of the loft made his bright hair gleam.
"The last one can be the worst," he said, "or it can be the best. What's your choice?"
"Both," I said in a low voice that didn't even sound like my own.
"You never take the easy road. Neither do I."
The fingers of his free hand closed on the clip and opened it with molasses-like slowness, extending the burning pain until I gasped. With unhurried ease he leaned into me, his tongue finding the hard and aching little bud of my clit.
His gloved fingers moved inside of me, pressing me up to meet the hot, stroking motions of his lips. The wet, sweet pleasure of that touch mingled with the aching pain of the slow, slow removal of the wooden teeth.
He tasting me. That feels so good. I think I could—
He seemed to read my mind, his fingers working the clothespin with cruel little jabs. "Do it. Now."
I strained against the straps, my voice rising into a scream as he released that last clip and threw it aside. Both of his hands were working me between them, inside and out as my body thrashed all over the bed.
As my movements stilled, his tongue moved in slow strokes. Now that the shattering spasm was passing, I felt the sting as his lips touched the tiny indentions left by the clothespins.
After several long moments, Hex moved up until we were face-to-face, sandwiching himself between my thighs. The hard bulge I felt pressed between us made me smile.
"Is that for me too?" I teased, rubbing against him in spite of the aching stings.
"Soon." He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, musky and bittersweet. "Did it hurt enough? I have more clothespins if you think it was too mild."
"I won't be able to sit down tomorrow as it is."
"Next time we'll aim for a whole week." He studied my face with a tiny smile around his eyes. "That should have been the first night, if we'd had more time."
"Kidnappings are so inconvenient," I agreed.
"Smartass."
He began to unstrap my arms, then my legs. When he glanced at my face again, he paused.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't want it to be over," I said. "I want to please you too."
"You will," he said, standing up and lifting me from the bed. "I have somewhere else in mind."
Chapter Twenty-Two
He headed for the elevator without stopping for the cape or anything else to cover me.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
Hex stepped inside the elevator and used his knee to hit a button. There were six floors on the panel, and we were on the third when we started up.
"To my place," h
e said.
"Your neighbors probably heard me scream."
He smiled and bent to give me a slow, deep kiss that sent delicious shivers racing through me. The clank of the doors opening made me regret that the building wasn't taller.
We stepped into a loft the same size as the one we'd just left. The same Atlanta skyline filled the window wall, but the feeling here was somehow more serious. The floors were stained a deeper walnut shade, the furniture charcoal gray and white.
Against the far wall was a huge bed covered in lighter gray. Hex was carrying me toward with long strides, making me tingle with renewed excitement.
"I thought you were Mr. Technology," I said as we passed a wall of built-in shelves overflowing with books. "No Kindle?"
"Three of them, but I love how real books feel, the smell as they age. Some things are worth doing the old-fashioned way."
He held me against his chest and let my lower body drop until my feet touched the floor. For an instant he was smiling down at me, then he propelled me against the wall beside the bed.
"For example," he said, "I'm going to do you the old-fashioned way. Right against this wall."
His words came wrapped in that low, husky tone that brought all of my attention to it. It was primal and raw, something that thrilled part of me that was equally untamed.
My arms slid around his neck, locking like a vise. Pressing me against the rough bricks allowed him to free one of his hands. I felt it slide down between us, then there was a familiar downward movement, the sound of a zipper.
"Wrap your legs around my waist," he ordered.
My strength was better than that first night in my apartment. I had no trouble locking my legs around him, hard enough to make him smile.
"Good," he said. "Don't let go."
He was pushed upward, his hands sliding around to cup my ass, grinding me against him. The hard, smooth length of him plunged into my wetness, making me gasp.
That first night in my old apartment, my body had longed to wrap him up exactly like this. To pull him deep enough to bruise me and never let go. Tonight those inhibitions were swept aside, meaningless and trivial.
