“Kellen,” Dawn said. “You don’t have to promise me anything. I don’t want you to.”
His only response was to suck her clit into his mouth and stroke it rapidly with his tongue until she exploded with ecstasy against his face. She clung to his hair, rocking her hips involuntarily as she moaned in bliss. After a moment, he dislodged her fingers from his scalp and reached for the rope again. He didn’t speak as he worked, first crisscrossing the rope across her torso and back, around her breasts and over her shoulders. He climbed to sit behind her as he bound her arms together behind her back, starting at the tops and working his way toward her wrists.
Kellen tied knot after knot, as if building an intricate rope ladder between her arms. He spent so much time on each knot that it seemed to take forever. She wished she could see what he was doing back there. What did it look like? She’d never been more conscious of her skin. Her breasts, pussy, and above her neck were the only parts of her body that were not in some way associated with lengths of rope or knots, so she became fixated on those parts, wanting stimulation for those areas too.
“I wish I had more rope,” he said when he moved away at last. “I’d really like to showcase your talented hands.” His teeth sank into a bare spot on the back of her shoulder, and her spine arched involuntarily. She found her movement severely limited by the ropes binding her. “Yet I suppose they’re beautiful enough on their own.”
She felt unbalanced when he slid to the floor and left her teetering, sitting on the edge of the piano lid, her feet and legs bound, but resting on the keys, and her arms tied securely behind her. She leaned back on her hands and felt slightly more balanced. It didn’t help that the darkness was so disorienting.
She heard the strike of the lighter just before a flame broke the darkness as Kellen lit the candles she’d brought from the kitchen. He carried the candles to the far end of the piano, increasing the amount of light near her. He stared at her in the soft yellow glow until her face burned with embarrassment.
“Don’t look at me so intensely,” she said and squeezed her eyes shut.
“I can’t help it. You look just as beautiful as you feel.”
She peeked at him from beneath her lashes as he circled the piano, sometimes touching her skin as if to ensure himself that she was real and other times gazing at her for long patches of time as if she were fine art on display.
“I wish you could see the pattern down your arms,” he said. “I’m not sure how I managed to space the knots so evenly.”
Probably because he’d taken such meticulous care that she’d thought he’d never finish. There wasn’t an inch of play in her arms. She tried to pull them away from her sides and found she was breathing hard for no good reason.
“Easy, baby,” he whispered.
Kellen’s hands were suddenly everywhere, gently caressing her skin until the ropes felt as if they were part of her.
She looked down at her naked body. The candlelight gave a soft glow to her skin. She couldn’t believe how exposed she was. Her legs were wide open. She could feel that they were, but seeing them like that was quite a shock. So that’s what her pussy looked like. She’d seen glimpses of it while grooming, but she’d never stared at it before. Was he staring at it too? She was too timid to find out. She forced her attention to less erotic visions, but discovered that he’d transformed every inch of her body into something visually appealing. Erotic.
Kellen had used the blue rope on her right leg and the tan on her left. The knots were not only used to hold her limbs in a certain orientation, but to decorate. At her waist, the two ropes came together. She wasn’t sure how he’d manage to combine the two colors into a contrasting design of diamonds and small rings when he couldn’t see what he was doing, but it was beautiful. The way the ropes supported her breasts made them jut forward, proud and bare. It was as if he’d showcased them with his rope work, drawing attention to the light pink tips. She turned her head to try to see the work he’d done on her arms, but those knots were out of her field of view. She’d never felt more sexy in her life. Or more trapped.
Her hands were free, so she repeatedly clenched them, and her toes were capable of curling under, but that only managed to remind her of the knot in the instep of her foot which kept her nipples hard for some inexplicable reason.
“You’re shaking,” he said, moving to stand before her. “Don’t fight it.”
“I’m not,” she said breathlessly. She looked at him, strangely not embarrassed that he had an unfettered view of every private part of her body. She felt separate from herself. Like an observer of her own form.
“Not physically fighting it. Mentally.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“How do you feel?”
“Trapped.”
“Are you sure?” He held her gaze, his dark brown eyes intense and deep.
She couldn’t look away. “Actually, it’s more like someone else is trapped and I’m watching her with envy.”
“Are you allowing yourself to feel the ropes, Dawn?”
“I don’t know.” She honestly wasn’t sure what she feeling. She was new to this. What was she supposed to be doing? What was she missing? She tried thinking about the ropes pressed into her flesh, forcing her into a position she would never be able to hold on her own. Keeping her there. Holding her completely stationary. Can’t move. Can’t move. Suddenly, it was as if a fist reached into her chest, squeezed her heart, and robbed her lungs of air.
Kellen stepped between her thighs and held her gently so that her forehead was resting against his shoulder. His hands felt so soothing against her shoulders that she practically melted. “Don’t panic,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
“I’m not sure I like this.”
“Do you want me to release you?”
He’d worked so hard to tie her this way, and she felt a million times better now that he was near. “Not yet. Just hold me a while longer.”
“I probably should have tied you on your bed your first time. You would have felt more secure. More stable. I just couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy you’d look on the surface of your piano.”
“I feel secure as long as you’re close,” she whispered. She angled her face and kissed his neck. He tensed slightly, but didn’t move away. She prayed that this wasn’t one of those triggers that sent him fleeing, because once she started, rubbing her lips against his throat, nibbling, licking, sucking and kissing, she couldn’t stop. If her hands had been free, she’d be plunging them down his boxer shorts right about now. God, she wanted his cock in her hands, her mouth, her wide open pussy. She was suddenly thankful that he’d tied her, so she wouldn’t attack him.
His ragged breathing stirred her hair. His hands went from holding her shoulders to provide comfort to massaging her breasts to provoke excitement. He kneaded them gently in his palms while she desperately sucked on his neck, his shoulder, his collarbone, wishing she could reach more of his flesh. She wanted so much more of him. When he began to rub her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, desire ignited deep inside her. She moaned in torment.
“Find your balance,” he said gently.
She had no idea what he meant until he started to slide down her body and she teetered forward. She leaned back slightly, catching herself on her hands.
Kneeling on the floor between her wide open thighs, Kellen looked up at her as he tied his hair back with a leather strap he’d tugged from beneath the cuff on his right wrist. There was no hesitation at all as he shifted forward and plunged his tongue into her quivering hole. He traced her opening repeatedly, drawing her fluids into his mouth with each swipe. She could see it. She could see everything. When he’d collected most of what she’d had waiting for him, he nibbled his way up one swollen lip and then latched onto her clit with a tight suction. His tongue worked the swollen bud as he sucked and sucked, drawing her higher, higher.
“Oh God,” she cried.
Two long, thick fingers s
lid deep into her clenching pussy. A third pressed against her ass, but didn’t enter. Her hips bucked involuntarily as she exploded in bliss. As soon as the pleasure began to recede, Kellen began to thrust his fingers and rotate them in wide arcs inside her. She moaned for mercy as he kept her pleasure heightened far longer than she’d even known was possible. When her legs began to tremble from overstimulation, he slipped his fingers free and released her clit so he could slide his fingers into his mouth.
She watched him suck her fluids from his fingers with her mouth hanging open. She’d thought the sight of him between her thighs had been sexy, but that… that made her pussy quake with the tease of another orgasm.
He pulled his fingers free, took a deep breath, and said, “So fucking good,” before he leaned forward and licked desperately at her juices.
He rubbed her clit with two fingers while he sucked at her pussy.
“Give me more, baby,” he pleaded.
When she came a moment later, he moaned with satisfaction at the flood of fluids that met his probing tongue.
Fuck, he was good at this.
He stood abruptly, drawing a gasp of surprise from Dawn. He freed his massive cock from his shorts and began to stroke his length in rapid, hard tugs. She couldn’t decide where to look. At his eyes squeezed shut in bliss? His mouth hanging open as he gasped for air? His heaving chest? Taut abs? His hand tugging his length in rapid, sure strokes? Oh God! Dawn’s pussy clenched in time with his motion. She could almost feel him inside her as he pleasured himself between her thighs. She strained toward him. Fill me. Fill me. Fill me, she thought. He cried out as he erupted. His fluids spurted from his body onto her belly and one breast. A second shot splattered across her thigh. His hand went still.
He leaned against her, his forehead against her shoulder, his shaky breaths warming her chest. She wished her arms were free so she could hold him tight. She nuzzled her face against his neck, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled his body against hers—chest to breasts, belly to belly, cock to seam. She didn’t move, afraid he’d pull away. His hips began to grind, rubbing the length of his still hard cock against her opening. He moaned as if in agony and his cockhead slipped inside her. Yes, she thought. Please. But she stayed silent, her eyes squeezed shut in preparation for his rejection.
He shifted his hips downward, but instead of pulling away, he pressed up inside her, claiming another inch. She clung to the piano beneath her hands. God, how she wanted to hold him as he slowly entered her in a deepening pattern of retreat and conquer. Her body adjusted to his thickness, stretching to accommodate his girth. When his balls pressed against her and she knew she had all of him, a tear dripped from beneath her eyelid and streaked down her cheek.
He buried his hands in her hair and pressed his lips to her cheek. “Dawn?” he whispered brokenly. “What did I just do?”
She wanted to speak, to soothe him, to say it’s okay, Kellen, it’s okay, but emotion clogged her throat and she couldn’t find the words.
He jerked abruptly away, pulling free of her body, away from her, and she couldn’t cling to him, couldn’t stop him from fleeing into the bathroom and slamming the door. And she couldn’t stop the tears flowing down her cheeks unchecked.
Chapter Seven
Kellen leaned back against the inner surface of the bathroom door, trying to catch his breath. What had he done? Shit. What had he been thinking? He hadn’t been thinking. He’d completely lost control.
It was Dawn’s fault for being so beautiful, so sweet, so warm and wonderful and willing. So absolutely amazing and accepting and so… not Sara.
He slammed his fist into the wall, relishing the pain that snaked through his knuckles and up his arm.
He could still taste Dawn’s juices, still smell the musk of her sex, still feel her warm, soft heat sheathing his cock.
How could have done that? Just entered her like that? Promises to Sara aside, he hadn’t even been wearing a condom.
He approached the sink, fumbling in the dark until he found the faucet. He turned on the water and cupped his hand to draw several sips to his mouth.
His promise to Sara echoed through his head. Never, honey. I promise I’ll never come inside another woman. You’re my one and only forever.
Technically, he hadn’t come inside Dawn. He’d entered her after he’d spent himself all over her.
He banged the wall again.
What in the fuck am I doing? Qualifying my actions so I can tolerate the guilt again? He called bullshit on himself. First he had convinced himself that Shibari was okay because he’d never tied Sara, then performing oral was acceptable because Sara didn’t enjoy that particular act, then it was fine if Owen was the one touching him and making him come because Owen wasn’t a woman, and now Kellen was trying to convince himself he could enter a woman, just as long as doing so wasn’t his reason for ejaculating. Hey, Sara, how’s my promise to you looking now? I failed you again.
He had to go back to Dawn. He couldn’t leave her tied like that without supervision. She could easily lose her balance and take a fall from the piano. But how could he face her after using her body so selfishly and then hiding in the bathroom as if he wasn’t utterly lost in her?
Dawn was so sweet. So perfect. He’d been completely absorbed in her—her taste, her scent, the sound of her sighs and moans, the texture of her skin, her warmth, her exquisite beauty. When he’d claimed her body, he’d been seeking something more than pleasure. He’d wanted to be closer to her. He’d wanted to be deep inside—not just physically, but emotionally. And he knew that was a far worse form of infidelity than a round of meaningless sex. His main problem was that he had a hard time ever having meaningless sex. He chose his partners carefully for that reason. He had to have a deeper connection than lust with a woman to make love to her. Fooling around was one thing, but being inside a woman was spiritual to him. It touched far more than his body.
After Sara, every woman he’d been attracted to had drawn him because she reminded him of his lost love in some way. He’d been looking to replace what he’d lost. He knew that. It was sick and twisted and wrong.
And now there was Dawn. Dawn who was nothing like Sara. Yet being with her felt right. Why?
He heard a thump outside the bathroom, and his heart leapt. He tore open the door and rushed to Dawn’s side. He was completely unprepared for what he found.
Dawn wasn’t in any harm, but she’d managed to lie across the piano on one side, her arms still tied securely behind her. She was weeping silently, tears streaming down her face to pool on the shiny black surface beneath her. Deep red strands of curls spread out over her nude body and trailed out behind her, draping her piano.
“Are you in pain?” he asked. “Where does it hurt, Dawn?”
“My heart,” she sobbed.
Was she experiencing cardiac arrest? An extreme panic attack? He’d heard that sometimes a panic attack felt like a heart attack. Being the self-absorbed asshole that he was, he’d forgotten that she’d been freaked-out about being tied unless he was close. He had to get her free as soon as possible. There wasn’t time for him to slowly untie each knot.
He grabbed a candle and hurried to the kitchen. He found a knife in a butcher block and returned to Dawn.
She gasped when she saw him standing over her with a huge knife. There he went scaring her again.
“I’m not going to stab you with it,” he said.
He sawed through each knot holding her arms together, starting at her wrists and working his way upward toward her shoulder blades. When the last knot came free, she surprised him by knocking the blade aside and wrapping both arms around his neck. Her muscles were trembling with fatigue, but she held on to him with surprising strength.
“I hate her,” she sobbed. “I hate her for taking so much of you. I hate her for meeting you first. I hate her fucking guts.”
“Easy,” he said, allowing himself to hold her gently. “I’m sorry I left you by yourself. You shouldn
’t have been left unsupervised.” It was the first rule of bondage. “Something bad could have happened to you. I’m so glad you’re not hurt. I would have never forgiven myself.”
“But I do hurt, Kellen,” she said. “I hurt so bad… for you.”
He leaned back and brushed strands of hair from her tear-damp cheeks. He got lost in her very watery hazel eyes. “Is that why you’re crying? For me?”
She nodded. “I wish your heart was free, Kellen. I wish that for me, but I wish it for you even more.”
“I should have nev—”
She covered his lips with two fingertips. “Don’t say you regret it, Kellen. I couldn’t bare it. When you were inside me…” Several tears dripped down her smooth cheeks. “It was beautiful.”
He didn’t regret being inside her. He felt a crippling guilt, but strangely the guilt was worth the connection he couldn’t deny he’d felt. That moment of emotional bonding might not be worth it when Dawn was no longer pressed against his body, holding him close, staring up at him with something he feared was adoration, but in this moment, the guilt was minor in comparison to the joy he felt in just holding this woman.
“I won’t say it,” he whispered. “I won’t say it because it’s not true. Being inside you felt… right.”
She caught his face between her palms, her gaze trained on his mouth. “I’m going to kiss you now,” she said. “And don’t you dare think of her when I do it.”
“Dawn.” He meant to speak her name as a protest, but it was more of a plea.
“Shh. It’s just a kiss.”
Just a kiss.
Her lips brushed his gently, and she immediately shifted away to stare into his eyes again. He saw her concern for him and while it touched his heart, it wasn’t necessary.
“That wasn’t a kiss,” he said.
Her brows drew together. “It wasn’t?”
He claimed her mouth with his—seeking, rough, deep, passionate, oh so intimate kisses. When her lips parted and her timid tongue brushed his lip, he felt as if a dam burst inside him and a tidal wave he had no hope of fighting slammed him against Dawn’s glory, melding them into one. Once he started kissing her, he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. He never wanted to stop. Lust stirred in his groin, but for once it wasn’t accompanied by guilt, just need. He needed this, needed her—Dawn. He was certain he’d feel differently in the morning, but he didn’t care about the aftermath or the fallout. He only cared about the here and now. He didn’t want her tied to prevent her from touching him, from encouraging his lust, and fueling his desire. He wanted her completely free, so she could continue to help free his heart from the bonds of his past.
Tie Me (One Night with Sole Regret #5) Page 9
