Everything But
Page 8
When his lips left hers and moved to her neck, she didn’t stop him this time. Instead, she heard a heavy sigh escape her lips as she tilted her neck to the side. He took the invitation and his ravenous lips nibbled and licked, working their way down. He moved his hands to her back without missing a beat. She leaned back against the arm of the couch and his lips continued their journey down until he kissed the swell of her breast just above the scalloped edge of her bra. She arched her back in anticipation of his further attention but he stopped and brought his face up to hers again. She fluttered her eyes.
“How about we move to your bedroom and I’ll tell you about our trust game?”
She felt her eyes widen, but she supposed she was ready…maybe. She’d never played with handcuffs before and didn’t know how comfortable she felt about it, but she really wanted to fuck Riley. Maybe after all the sex he’d had over the years (something she really shouldn’t think about if she wanted to stay in the mood), he needed a little kink to get off. She took a deep breath and nodded, then stood up. He grabbed the handcuffs off the coffee table and joined her. She figured her guess was right when she saw he wasn’t even hard.
Maybe just a one-time fling was a good idea.
She walked down the hall to her room, her fingers laced in his, and she opened the door. Her bedroom in this apartment had only seen two other men, both guys that had ruined her opinion of males, probably for good. She had some nice memories of the sex, but the relationships, especially near the end, soured any good feelings she had about those men. Maybe Riley could change all that, particularly if she loved him and left him. And that was the plan.
Her bedroom was light and airy. The walls and furniture were white, while the comforter and drapes were white with tiny flowers, just a slight accent of color. The carpet was a beige color that matched the door. The window was open, blowing in a soft breeze, ruffling the drapes. And the room smelled sweet, like the remnants of her papaya lotion and the pomegranate-scented candle on the nightstand.
She stood at the foot of the bed to give an unnecessary introduction. “Well, here it is.” Riley threw the cuffs on the bed and pulled her close up against his body, his hands around her waist. He was acting a little more aggressive as he submerged her in another fiery kiss that left her wanting so much more.
Then he said, “So…the handcuffs. Have you ever done anything involving bondage before?” She shook her head. “Never?”
“Never.”
He glanced over her head. “You have a headboard. Perfect.” He looked down at her again. If any guy she’d ever met had what women referred to as bedroom eyes, it was Riley. His eyes were heavy and sleepy-looking, and it made him look sexier. “If you don’t want to do it, I’m cool with that.” He moved his lips to just below her ear and whispered so she could barely hear. “But here’s my plan.” He kissed her neck, then breathed in her ear, and she felt her nipples turn rock hard again. “I cuff your arms, and then I ravish your body.” His hands, hot, were gliding over her back, achingly slow. “If you’ve never done it before, I gotta tell you…”—he moved so he could see her again, his nose touching hers—“being restrained does something for your orgasm that, shit, I can’t describe.” His dark eyes that bore into hers as he touched her forehead with his flooded her vision and she nearly drowned in his worshipping gaze. “I promise I’ll make you feel better than you have in a long time…maybe ever.”
Should she trust him? Probably not. But his eyes were beckoning to her and he’d titillated her to the point of no return. She wanted him, and she wanted to give him the chance to fulfill his promise. She guessed, though, that sex with him would be fucking awesome anyway. Her eyes explored his, and she felt in that moment like she could trust him. She nodded. “Okay.”
His voice was deep when he said, “I promise you won’t regret it.” One thing Erin did know…none of his groupies would have received this kind of attention. And with that thought, she felt herself grow wet, ready to be touched by him. He kissed her again and pressed her into his body. She could feel the stirrings of his hard on against her and that made her want him even more.
As his lips moved to her neck again, she said, “Uh…just…uh, use a condom, okay?” It was probably the last coherent thought she’d have.
“Oh, yeah.”
She hadn’t seen him bring any, but she supposed that was part of the trust thing too. She was going to. She was going to trust him fully and completely, and if he fucked that up, well…she’d make damn sure he regretted it. In the meantime, she was going to let go of all worries, all inhibitions, and let him get on with fulfilling his promise.
He looked in her eyes again. “Do you know what a safeword is?”
“I’ve heard of it, but no.”
“It’s…uh…common in BDSM. Stop just doesn’t mean shit, so you have a safeword that communicates you really do want someone to stop.”
“So…you mean, like, if I said security, that would mean to stop?”
“Yeah…you got it.” She nodded. What the fuck was he going to do if she’d have to ask him to stop? He didn’t plan on hurting her, did he? The thought dissipated as Riley cupped both of her ass cheeks in his hand and pushed her up against him while he kissed her again. Her breathing was already ragged and she felt desperate. She wrapped her right leg around his calf and slid her hands up his chest, relishing the feel of his smooth skin and taut muscles. He moved his hand down the thigh of her leg, and his fingers tantalized the tender skin on the underside. He continued a slow but steady barrage of kisses that removed all thought from her head and left only burning desire and pure instinct in their wake.
Then he slid his hands up her back causing her to gasp with the deliberate slow motion. When his fingers got to her bra strap, he fiddled with it until the clasps released. But rather than take immediate advantage of her breasts’ independence, he slid his hands back down to her thighs while bending a little, then he lifted her up as though she weighed no more than a pillow. He walked over to the side of the bed and then leaned forward and she adjusted so he could sit her on the bed.
Erin knew she was already so close that he could probably just touch her with his cock and send her into spasms. He hovered over her, holding himself up on his knee and arms, one leg still on the floor. His lips touched hers but he balanced himself on his knee and eased her bra off her shoulders. The breeze in the room made her nipples harden even further and they were aching now. He set the bra aside with one hand while the other arm reached around her back just under her arms and pulled her up on the bed the rest of the way, and he followed. She lay back, aware of how ragged her breath had become. He kissed her again, but she felt his chest brush up against her nipples, stimulating them, heating them up, and he moved his lips down her neck and his tongue traced a trail to between her breasts. He was resting on his side now, and he brushed his hand back and forth between her breasts, touching the sides but teasing, barely touching, making her arch her back and moan, and then he leaned forward to take a nipple in his mouth. Her moan grew louder and she twisted her fingers into his hair as though she could guide him. But he was hell bent on taking his time.
She heard the music wafting in from the living room, more than halfway through Mötley Crüe, the insistent drum beat of “Piece of Your Action” playing, and Erin almost, just for a second, started giggling. What were the odds of actually making love during a song about some totally nasty-ass sex? But just as the thought started to drift off, he sucked on her nipple again, slow and attentive, and she bit on her bottom lip as she felt her fingers tighten against his head again, and the music added to her heightened sensitivity.
Riley moved his lips back to hers but he barely touched them. He looked at her, though, and said, “Babe, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” He kissed down her cleavage again, but this time drew a line with his tongue to her navel. He paused and grabbed the handcuffs off the side of the bed where he’d thrown them earlier. He moved back up to her and asked, “Ready?”
It didn’t matter now, though. She was hot and ready and he’d barely touched her. His right hand released hers and he grabbed one of the pairs of handcuffs. He sat up partway and drew her left arm up just a little more so that her hand was touching the corner of the headboard. He wrapped the cuff around her wrist and she heard the steel clicking into place. She hadn’t expected it, but just the clicky zippy sound and the feel of the cool metal heightened her arousal. “That doesn’t hurt, does it?” he asked.
She shook her head slightly. “No.”
“I just don’t want them digging into your wrists.”
“I’m good.” Her arm was stretched so that it was almost uncomfortable, but she was okay. He secured the cuff to the post.
He leaned over and kissed her again, then did the same thing with her right arm. “Still feel okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, breathless. She almost felt like a different person, looking at him through changed eyes. She couldn’t move her arms much. They were pulled tightly and she suddenly felt more vulnerable than she ever had in her life. But he looked down at her with gentle eyes…that turned dark and dangerous and desirous. His mouth swallowed hers up again, and this time he was demanding, forceful, and aggressive. But he wasn’t hurting her, so she tried to relax. His lips again moved to her neck and then her collarbone, and he teased her nipples with his thumbs while moving down her body.
He continued to straddle her, but now he was sitting over her knees. His fingers, hot and firm, grabbed the side of her panties and tugged on them. He was in no hurry to pull them off and she pushed up off the bed with what little leverage she had to help them ease off. “I’m almost sad to see these go,” he said and she giggled in spite of herself, squirming as his hands wrapped around her thighs to help move them down all the way.
Soon the panties were off and he crawled back up the bed. He started kissing her lower belly while his hands rubbed down her thighs. He spread her legs apart and started kissing inside her thigh. He sucked on it a little, then licked it some more. He was driving her fucking crazy. She knew, she just knew, that as soon as his breath hit her clit, she was going to come and come hard. His thumbs were massaging the inside of her thighs too, and her muscles were so unbelievably taut, she thought she was going to collapse in on herself. His thumbs started inching closer to her pleasure zone and he pushed against her legs more, spreading them as wide they would comfortably go.
Then she felt his thumbs closing in on her and he spread her labia apart, exposing her everything. And, sure as shit, once she felt his breath against her, she got closer. She felt herself tilt her pelvis by instinct, as though her body really were begging him to get down to business. She looked down at him, wondering what the hell he was doing, and he gazed back at her, his eyes clouded by desire. He put his index and middle fingers in his mouth and pulled them out, then slid them down her slit, teasing her clitoris. She had no control over the little yelp that escaped her lips. He eased his fingers in her vagina while his thumb started massaging her clit. Her breathing grew more rapid, ready for the release orgasm would bring. And, God, she was close.
He withdrew his fingers and pressed against her thighs again. His tongue touched her clit then and she couldn’t help the low moan in her throat. He stroked her a few times and said, “God, you’re wet.” She knew she was, so why was he just teasing her? She felt the muscles in her arms and legs continue to tighten and surge with desire. And then he started kissing the side of her thigh again.
Just as she was growing impatient that he kept teasing her, he massaged her thighs with his hands again and then held them steady, bringing his face back to her again, breathing on her again. And, once more, he released her right thigh and slid his fingers inside her one more time. Then his tongue assaulted her clit and stroked her in a steady motion. She felt her breathing grow deep as she gulped in air. She felt her legs begin to quiver as they prepared for the glorious relief orgasm would bring. She was panting, willing it on, and then he backed off again.
She lay her head back, feeling almost exhausted. Riley rubbed his thumb over her clit, making her moan, and then he brought his tongue back to resume its work. Only this time, he pummeled her with a steady beat that matched the music in the other room until she began crying aloud, nearly screaming as her body let go of it all. Her thighs tightened, but he withdrew his fingers and held her legs down with both hands as he continued thrashing her with his tongue.
And, while it felt good, she couldn’t handle it anymore. She’d never had an orgasm this intense, this steady, this relentless, and she doubted she could take anymore. She felt as though she would lose her mind if he didn’t ease up. “Stop,” she said, her voice quieter than she’d expected. “Stop, Riley.” Did he not hear her? He wasn’t quitting. “Stop. Stop. Stop!” she continued to demand. But then she remembered they’d talked about some stupid safety word, that stop didn’t mean shit, and her brain was so fucking fried from the orgasm, she couldn’t recall the entire conversation, but she hadn’t actually chosen a safeword, so why the hell wasn’t he stopping? At last she couldn’t beg him to quit anymore because her body gave in to yet another intense wave of pleasure and she moaned again. “Oh, fuck!” she yelled, her legs quivering and shaking. She tried scooting up the bed, away from his demanding tongue, but she couldn’t. Between the headboard pressing against the crown of her head and the handcuffs not allowing her much room to move, she couldn’t get away. And he just kept on. She tried to fight him with her legs, but she was no match for his strength. Couldn’t he tell she really meant stop?
Finally, though, her orgasm did end. How many orgasms she’d actually had, she didn’t know. But she collapsed on the bed and prayed he wouldn’t touch her again. He kissed the inside of her thigh, just a little peck, and got up off the bed and went into the other room. She rested her head on the pillow and opened her eyes when he came back in the room.
He set some things on the bed, but she was too tired to see what they were. He was fucking hot, really good looking, and even more so with that look on his face. He pulled his boxer briefs down to reveal his rock hard cock, and it was bigger than she’d expected. Sure, she’d seen his bulge through the underwear, but he hadn’t been hard then. Holy fuck. Could she handle more?
He reached into the pile of things he’d brought with him from the living room and picked up a condom. That made her feel a little better. Just as promised. He set the wrapper on the bed and slid it on, and then grabbed something else. He crawled up the bed back to her. “God,” he whispered, “you are beautiful.” Her head was turned to the side and she had no intentions of kissing him, but his lips touched her neck and she knew then that, exhausted or not, she had more life in her. And he slid inside, filling her with all of him.
She felt his hand glide up her arm, and for the first time, she became aware of pain in her wrist. The cuffs had dug into her skin, probably when she was writhing from orgasm. She realized then that he had a key in his hand, and she wasn’t sure how he could operate it with one hand, but he did. He unlocked the cuff and loosened it, helping her pull her left hand out.
She thought some of slapping him, but he drove his cock deep again and she sputtered, breathless. She was helpless
. And in spite of the small fist of anger in her belly, her hand grabbed his back, almost possessively, then slid down to his ass, wanting to pull him closer, urging him to penetrate even farther. And as he pumped into her, she felt her body give way to yet another orgasm. And her brain must have hated her because she cried his name as her nails scratched down his back and she wondered if she would be alive when it was all over.
Chapter Thirteen
JESUS FUCKIN’ CHRIST. Riley didn’t know the last time he’d ever had an orgasm like that, and he was pretty sure what he’d done to her had to be in her top ten of all time. He could barely breathe when he was done and it took all his strength to roll off Erin. But he had to. He could tell she was worn out. But he’d kept his promise: to make her feel better than she had in a long time. He wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure she came two or three times. Mission accomplished.
He was getting ready to rest his head on the pillow, but then realized he still needed to unlock her other handcuff. He’d gotten lucky going to the mall today. He hadn’t known if he’d be able to find this shit, especially on a Sunday. God, what would his mother think if she knew what he’d just done on what she called the Day of the Lord?
He almost smiled just thinking about it. He sat up a little and found the key, then unlocked the other cuff. Shit. As he released it and held her hand, he noticed the steel had cut into the delicate skin on her wrist. She wasn’t bleeding, but she had some contusions part of the way around. That made him feel like a real asshole. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. He’d considered buying rope and would have had he not found the handcuffs, but he knew she might’ve gotten rope burns from that. Still…what a shithead.