ShakenandStirred

by M. A. Ellis

  “More?”

  “Yes,” she cried, hips rocking.

  He took her other nipple between thumb and forefinger and tweaked the tight peak hard enough that her moan turned desperate.

  He pulled his head back and simply stared at her breasts.

  “I wanted to take this nice and slow but those little sounds you’re making are driving me to distraction. Keep your hands behind your back.”

  Susanne did as she was told, holding her breath when both his palms covered her nipples, pressing the peaks into her breasts before testing the weight.

  “They’re a perfect fit,” he said, kneading her flesh in a slow, steady rhythm. “Don’t you think?”

  She didn’t answer, just stared as gripping turned into rubbing and rubbing brought him full circle to where he held each of her nipples firmly between thumb and forefinger. He didn’t pinch but instead rolled the flesh with a light friction that had her inner muscles mirroring the stimulating motion.

  “At some point, we’re going to get a pair of nipple clamps. Would you like that, sugar?”

  “I don’t know,” she blurted, closing her eyes against the mini-orgasmic wave that washed over her body. Her breasts swelled and she let out a ragged breath.

  He tightened his grip with a slow, steady pressure, not stopping until she moaned.

  “Ah, darlin’, it’s so good to find a woman who’s not afraid to tell me what she wants. Promise me you won’t hold anything back.”

  “Promise,” she said, breathless from the way he was teasingly squeezing and releasing her nipples. A long spasm rolled through her abdomen and Susanne straightened abruptly. She heard the harshness of her breath and pulled backward, the self-inflicted tug taking her another step closer to orgasm.

  “Mmmm. Brought you close, huh, sugar?”

  He straightened and she actually whimpered when he let go of her nipples. He drifted his fingers up the slope of her neck before threading them through her hair and pulling her close, kissing her to a point of senselessness, where she felt as if she were falling.

  A second later she was airborne, her eyes opening in shock as she bounced once before landing fully supine on the bed. With mind-numbing speed he unbuttoned his cuffs and had his shirt over his head and was on the bed and straddled her.

  His torso was ripped and tanned, proof of a lifestyle that included manual, outdoor labor. At some point she’d find out exactly what her cowboy did for a living. A fine line of dark hair ran down the center of his stomach and disappeared into the vee of his unbuttoned jeans and she suddenly felt overexposed. While he was gorgeous in his semi-clad state, she suddenly wanted to see every inch of his hard body.

  “Are you going to get naked?”

  “In a bit.” The way his lips turned upward in a sexy grin made her heart race. Him reaching down and picking up the length of cord had the same beat echoing in her head…her stomach…her pussy.

  “Give me a leg,” he ordered. The timbre of his voice left no room for argument.

  He rose onto his knees and Susanne felt a surge of trepidation. Part of her considered telling him to forget about playing the game. She’d never been bound before. It always sounded titillating when she read about it in her magazines or when the patrons on ladies’ night would discuss such things over five-dollar dirty martinis. But faced with the reality of the situation, she paused.

  “I won’t hurt you, Susanne.”

  His intuitiveness soothed her uneasiness.

  “Just don’t say ‘no’ unless you really mean it. Do you trust me?”

  Do you trust me? Surprisingly, she did trust him—a man she had known only a few hours—more than all her other partners combined. Swallowing the last bit of nervousness, Susanne bent her knee and slid her foot along the bed and through his spread legs. She ran the toe of her shoe up his inner thigh, gently brushing the growing bulge of his erection before moving higher and placing her foot flat against his chest.

  “You are a tease, aren’t you, Miss Susanne?”

  “Not usually,” she said, gasping when he grabbed her foot and planted a hot kiss on her ankle.

  “Fine time to change,” he chuckled. “These heels are so hot. I know they have to come off eventually but not yet.” He placed the sole of her foot against the comforter and trailed his fingers up her leg, resting his wrist on her knee. “Give me your hand.”

  Susanne did as requested, watching carefully as he tied her ankle and wrist together. He looped and twisted the cord so quickly that she lost track of what he was doing, but when he was done a long single strand lay loose and off to her side.

  “That’s your safety loop. Just like I showed you downstairs.” His voice had become so husky that Susanne dragged her gaze from her bound extremities to his face. She watched his nostrils flare ever so slightly before the angle of his jaw shifted. He stared at her pussy and she self-consciously moved her other hand to cover her exposed flesh.

  “No.” He moved his leg to the inside of her knee and yanked her hand away. “Don’t you dare hide that from me. I want to see every glistening fold…taste every drop of your sweet essence.”

  He brought her hand to his mouth and licked her palm with long, bold strokes that made her think of how wonderfully he’d lick other places on her body. Places that were flushed and swollen and orally neglected.

  “I want you to taste me.” The words slipped easily from her mouth.

  He picked up the rope and pulled it underneath her bottom, quickly securing her other hand to her ankle, leaving another free length of cord. She stared down her body, shocked yet thrilled at the way her limbs were placed. She was open, the core of her womanhood available for whatever he desired. The position ratcheted her anticipation to the point of physical discomfort and she wiggled her hips. She was hot. Wanting. Her body feeling so full of itself that she felt as if her nether regions might burst.

  “Easy now. We have to make this perfect in every way so for just a minute, quit thinking about what I’m going to do to you and listen.”

  He put a piece of rope in each of her palms and curled her fingers over it. “All you need do is rotate your wrists outward and the loop will pull free. Simple but on a hair trigger so hold the rope a little looser if you don’t want to have premature freedom.”

  “Trey?” A solitary question had been swirling through her mind. One she felt compelled to ask. “Do you do this a lot?”

  “No, Susanne,” he said unflinchingly, looking up from his handiwork to meet her eyes. “It’s not a daily occurrence. A little rope play now and again but it’s not essential to me when I make love. It’s been quite a while since I’ve actually had the opportunity so don’t think it’s some sort of fetish either.”

  “So this is kind of like a treat?” She didn’t like the contemplative sound of her own voice one bit.

  “A treat? No, this isn’t a treat,” he chuckled, sitting back on his haunches. He ran the back of each of his middle fingers up the fronts of her legs, over her kneecaps and then down the inside of her thighs. His darkened gaze followed the electrifying trail.

  “Peanut butter pie is a treat, sugar. This is way more special than an after-dinner favorite. Your pussy’s beautiful.”

  He rotated his wrists and placed his palms on the smooth flesh of her inner thighs. Gently, he pushed her legs open until her knees were nearly touching the bed. Susanne swallowed, not sure how to answer. A simple “thank you” didn’t seem right. The way he was staring at her—she didn’t even know if she could speak.

  “Just the way I imagined. Pink in some places, plump in others.” He brushed the tip of one finger across her vulva and Susanne’s thighs twitched at the jolt that shot to her core. “Still skittish. Not used to being stroked like this?”

  He moved his finger to the other side and leisurely rubbed the full flesh, over and over until a trickle of wetness rolled from her folds. His finger stilled and she watched him watch the trail of her desire. The tiny drop teased the skin between her pussy a
nd her anus and she was about to shift against the erotic discomfort when he blocked the liquid’s progression with his thumb.

  Susanne held her breath as he lubed his thumb with her juices and began to trace tiny circles against the sensitive strip of skin. He worked upward toward her pussy and she wantonly spread her legs as far open as they would go. He met her gaze, held it as he drew away from the place she longed for him to stroke and started a teasing trail toward her rim. She tensed.

  “Don’t,” she said quickly.

  He gave her a little smile and immediately stopped.

  “Because you don’t like it? Or have you never tried?”

  “I’ve tried. Just not with a real—penis.”

  His eyes darkened and she immediately regretted her words.

  “Did you like it?” he asked in a deep whisper.

  “Yes,” she admitted. Just the two of them talking about her asshole being stroked was enough to have her insides trembling.

  “Maybe later we can try the real thing?”

  She offered him a little negative shake of her head and he winked as he circled back toward her throbbing cunt.

  “We’ll see,” he said in an offhand manner that was anything but. His self-assuredness would have set Susanne off if she weren’t in the beginning throes of a slow-building orgasm. They were her favorite kind. The ones she never had enough willpower to bring about when it was just her and her toys. The kind you fanned and then banked. The kind that went on and on until you finally exploded.

  “I swear to god, I’ve never wanted to roll my tongue around a clit more than I do this second.”

  His admission skyrocketed her need and when he ran the tip of his thumb against the little cap of skin covering the top of her clit her long moan echoed through the room.

  “Shit,” he muttered. A look of pain creased his forehead as he reached inside his jeans and shifted his erection.

  Susanne tilted her hips toward him, hoping he’d give in and offer them both a little relief. “I’m ready.”

  “Your glistening pussy is proof of that but I haven’t had a chance to even taste you. Really taste you.”

  “You have tasted me,” she said, urgent for him to plunge into her hot sheath and show her how a man truly rides the woman he desires.

  “Licking your juice off my finger and feasting on a fine set of nipples doesn’t come close to what I want to do,” he said, leaning forward to place a kiss against the center of her breastbone.

  “I want you inside me again. Don’t you want that?” Susanne watched as he slowly kissed his way downward. He traced a circle around her bellybutton with the tip of his nose, the stubble on his chin brushing just above her mound, the combination of sensations doubly teasing. He placed a series of light kisses over her abdomen before delving lower and she automatically tensed.

  “Don’t be nervous, sugar.”

  “I’m not,” she lied. Sophisticated women who were used to having oral sex lavished on them at every turn wouldn’t be nervous. They’d be lying back, waiting for the experience to begin.

  “Before I became a breeder, I worked as a prep cook at a five-star restaurant in Dallas.”

  Susanne stared at him, body thrumming.

  What the hell does that have to do with the price of corn in Kansas?

  “It’s where I learned the intrinsic worth of a stiff whipped cream.”

  He picked up a plumb blackberry and she swallowed against the dryness in her throat.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered in a deep voice, his gaze skittering over her body.

  Anticipation drew her muscles taut. She didn’t know what he was going to do with the berry but her mind was far from at a loss as to the many places it could go. His hand drifted toward her breast and she shut her eyes, not sure if she was ready for “fun with fruit”.

  She felt a cool wetness in the center of her chest and peeked through her lashes. One by one he systematically placed a trail of berries down the center of her body, using the whipped cream to hold them stationary. He reached her bellybutton and added one on each side before moving lower and placing two more on her lower stomach.

  She watched him survey his work, a huge grin brightening his gorgeous face.

  “What’s so funny, Tex?”

  “Not as noticeable as a row of runway lights but they do lead to the prettiest landing strip I’ve ever seen.”

  Susanne jerked when he traced the outer edge of her neatly trimmed pubic hair. Up and down in tiny increments, his fingers coming closer to her throbbing opening with each progressing downward stroke. The tiny lull of desire brought on by their playful banter flared instantly to life. She shifted her hips, trying to deflect his fingers but all she received for her effort was the dislodging of two berries.

  She looked at him, gasping as he took her outer labia between thumb and forefinger and slowly pinched the engorged flesh until she was biting her lip.

  “I asked you not to move. When I find the ones that rolled away I’m going to do torturous things to you with them.”

  Oh my god. What can he do with a single berry? And what could be more torturous than the way he was currently capturing her flesh? Susanne shivered. Knowing she definitely wanted to find out.

  He released her labia and Susanne moaned loudly as a rush of pleasure-pain washed over her lower body. Methodically, he sucked each berry from her skin, laving the creamy remains with his hot tongue until every drop had disappeared. He worked from bottom to top, nibbling at her flesh at unpredictable intervals that had her nerves tightening.

  She watched it all through half-closed eyelids, her anticipation nearing the breaking point as he slowly devoured the final berry. “Tasty,” he said, reaching over to scoop up a bit more whipped cream from the bowl. He sucked half of the dollop into his mouth as he pushed back onto his knees.

  “What if I put some here?”

  He smeared the remainder along each side of her engorged clitoris, the erotic contact rocking her enough that she felt the rope she held in her right hand give a little. She immediately stilled, not wanting to be free from his sweet confines.

  “That was to make up for the berry that slipped down your right side.” His fingers prodded the area of the bed where her body met the comforter until he found the renegade berry. He tossed it onto the nightstand and began a quick search on her left side for the other berry, finding it closer to her hip.

  “Now this one looks salvageable,” he said, balancing the huge berry between his thumb and index finger. “Let’s see if you do better this time at keeping it where it needs to be.”

  Susanne watched as he dipped the flatter end into the whipped cream and lowered the fruit between her spread legs.

  “Oh no,” she whispered.

  “Oh yes,” he said, gently placing the treat directly over her clit before sliding slowly off the end of the bed.

  She might have been mortified if he hadn’t distracted her by slowly lowering his zipper the rest of the way and dropping his jeans to the floor. It was clear that nothing came between her cowboy and his Levi’s and Susanne licked her lips at the godlike picture he presented.

  That perfect cock looked a whole lot bigger when it wasn’t surrounded by half-dropped denim. Fully erect, it brushed against his lower abs and Susanne dropped her knees as far as possible.

  “Do you think I need all that room?” he asked with the sexiest of grins before he crawled back between her thighs. “You did a great job of keeping this in place, sugar. That deserves a reward, don’t you think?”

  He looked at her face and she nodded quickly.

  He plucked the berry away and sucked at the cream, turning it in his hand until the pointed end was facing downward.

  “Remember that game we played as kids? The one where someone would use their finger and write a word on your back and you had to guess what they wrote?”

  He glanced intently at her pussy and Susanne shivered.

  “I’m up for a more adult version. How ‘bout you?�
� He swirled the berry against her aching nub in a half dozen strokes. Susanne closed her eyes and focused on breathing normally, which was terribly hard with him stroking the berry along the side of her vulva. She shifted her knees and the cord pulled a little tighter against her wrists.

  “Sugar,” he said. “I spelled ‘sugar’. You didn’t get that one. Close your eyes and concentrate. I’m sure you’ll figure out the next one.”

  The torturous feel of the knobby fruit against her swollen clit had her toes curling in her shoes. This time there were more strokes. They varied in pressure. Some firm and sure as he pressed hard against her while others barely brushed her nub. Part of her doubted he was actually spelling a word. Another part wished he wouldn’t stop. Her body began tightening inward and she knew if he’d just pick one tempo and stick with it she’d reach her peak quickly.

  “What was that?” he asked, pulling the berry away once again.

  “I don’t know,” she groaned. “I don’t care.”

  “That’s not nice.” There was a wicked tone to his chuckle and Susanne thought she might actually be dealing with the real devil. “I was spelling your name. Wanna try once more?”

  “I don’t,” she said quickly, arching her back when he settled on a steady back-and-forth motion. He’d found the spot—the perfect rhythm.

  “No more games.” She sobbed as her core tightened. “Please.”

  “Spoilsport. I was going to do ‘sweetness’ next. From the way your thighs are quivering, I’m not sure I would have made it to crossing that ‘t’ before you exploded.”

  “Oh, fuuuuuck.” The tiny spasms rocked her and she flung herself against the mattress. He diligently kept the pace, stroking with a precision that rocked her right over the edge. Had her eyes been open, she was fairly certain she’d have seen stars dancing across the ceiling.

  “Jesus, sugar. You are a sight to behold when you come. I don’t know if there are enough hours in the night for me to show you how many ways I can make you explode. How many times I can watch the pleasure cross your gorgeous face.”