by Liz Crowe
“Good girl, Gina.”
He arched up, lifted both her arms by the wrists and placed them atop her head, pushing them into the pillow. “Let’s try something. You don’t have to play along if you don’t want to. Tell me to stop at any time, and I will. I promise.”
She tried to look up to where her hands were crossed above her head, but he held her wrists with one hand while he pulled her head down by the chin with the other.
“No peeking. Trust me?”
She could feel his hungry arousal burning against her. She nodded, and raised her knees to help him find a home deep inside her. Armando’s cock stiffly rooted around her opening, but did not penetrate.
“Say it now. I want you to speak now.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“I trust you.”
“Good,” he whispered as he kissed her. “Hold on to this,” he said as he led her hands to a cool metal loop on the headboard frame. She grabbed it. “Good girl,” he said.
She heard the sound of silk next to her ears and felt the cool fabric slide over her eyes. Her adrenaline began to kick in when she realized she was being blindfolded. He carefully lifted the silk scarf up so her nose had ample room for breathing. His fingers pressed against her lips and she sucked at them, drawing them into her mouth. The salty remains of her own arousal heightened her senses and her sex began to vibrate. Armando nibbled between her breasts, which felt like they were riding higher since she was holding onto the bedframe above her head.
She felt him leave the bedside and heard water running in the bathroom. When he returned she felt a warm, round bowl tucked between her legs. Armando spread her knees apart fully, which exposed her full sex to him. She wished she could see his face as he looked down on her. It was torture not knowing.
“You are so beautiful, Gina,” he said. Now she knew, and the answer made her insides twitch, knowing her sex was bared, fully revealed. Several seconds of silence was followed by the warm feel of his tongue lapping at the lips of her labia. She instinctively raised her knees, presenting her pelvis to him. “Yes. Nice, Gina.” He took her further into his mouth.
She released her grip on the headboard to smash his head into her crotch when he stopped her firmly.
“No, no. Bad girl. If you don’t leave your hands there, I might have to secure them.”
Secure them?
She smiled as she replaced her hands atop her head, twisting her torso carefully from side to side, wanting him to penetrate her, and also wanting to be a good girl and not spill what was in the bowl that rested between her legs. “More,” she said.
“Yes. Happy to oblige,” he whispered to that private place between her thighs. He blew warm air on her and she moaned, raising her pelvis off the bed again.
“Need you. Need you inside.”
“Yes.”
She heard water trickling in the bowl. Suddenly a warm washcloth was placed on her swollen peach. He rubbed her carefully, delicately, breathing slowly. Gina’s chest was heaving under the aching burden of her engorged breasts. Her nipples hurt, but the rough washcloth between her legs made her come.
He rubbed her nub between his thumb and forefinger. She jerked, uncontrolled, as he played her. His hands left her and she heard the sounds of a brush and lathering cup.
“I’m going to shave you,” he said.
Gina’s quivering crotch was dripping with her own juices.
“Yes.” She said.
The brush tickled as it swirled warm soap over the sides of her crevice and into the depression at the tops of her thighs. Then his fingers delicately spread her folds back and he scraped her flesh with a razor, rinsing it between the long strokes. He was careful not to nick or touch the insides of her lips. He shouldered under her thigh to shave the flesh around her anus. One finger delicately prodded her there and she inhaled.
“Shhh. Careful. I have a sharp tool in my hands,” he said.
After he was finished shaving, he applied a fresh washcloth to remove lather and rinse her off.
Far from feeling debased, her heightened arousal made her compliant, needing this strong man to command her to do anything he might desire. When she felt him leave the bed, she surreptitiously stroked the baby-skin-like lips of her labia and then inserted two fingers into her desperately needy vagina. The touch of her own fingers was a welcome pleasure, and something she had never done before. She heard him pour out the contents of the bowl of warm water in the bathroom.
When she heard his footsteps returning to the bedside, he said, “Oh Gina. You have been very, very bad. I asked you not to take your hands off the headboard. I’m afraid that means I will have to restrain you.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Armando knew his own body, but his goal was to understand hers even better. Each time she would climax, he slowed the pace a little, trying to extend the time they spent in peak arousal. He was so close; he forced himself to focus on little details of her body so he wouldn’t go over the edge. Not just yet.
He had tied her beautiful wrists to the headboard. It was a first for him. He’d had fantasies about it, but had never found anyone he trusted enough to explore those regions together. But with Gina he felt like something was building. He suddenly wanted to do everything with her, try things he had never dared before. If she was willing. Only if she was willing.
Looking at those long fingers of hers gripping the bedframe, showing her willingness to be his captive, nearly made him spill. He loved the curves of her hand, the smooth surfaces of the bright pink polish as he sucked on each finger rolling his tongue over every surface, lapping the places between her fingers just like what he was going to do to the place between her thighs later on. She moaned and rose to him, pressing her full breasts into his chest, rubbing them against him as he felt her vibrating sex below his own.
His cock had never wanted something so bad in his life. He licked down the insides of her arms, one at a time. He kissed and nipped at the insides of her elbows. Every shadowy private part of her body was his to devour. His.
There was the little hollow under her ears he especially enjoyed, full of the scent from her arousal, mixed with her cologne. He was adapting to her environment, exploring and tasting all her places, learning to tune his body to what she wanted, which happened to be exactly what he wanted. When she moaned, he needed to be there at her mouth to jealously take it all into him. Her breath became his. He would possess every part of her he could.
Something was sliding away as he licked and nibbled over her body. Some heavy shield of steel was being taken from him, dissolved in the scent of her body, in the soft recesses of her flesh. Every place he touched her, she reacted. Nothing was as thrilling as watching her face and feeling her body respond to his.
“Please,” she whispered. He loved the baby-fine skin of her now-shaved labia, taking his fill, using his fingers and his tongue. Her nub was red he’d pinched and sucked at it so much. Yet each time he touched her there she jumped. A slow, lazy smile would appear, demanding a moist kiss, delivering her the taste of her own arousal.
“Please,” she begged again. He wasn’t done teasing her, heightening her pleasure. He had much more in store for her first.
Armando doubted he’d ever be able to go to sleep in this room without thinking about what Gina looked like naked, spread-eagled, tied to his bed and blindfolded. Best thing of all was that she wanted more.
He adjusted his position, straddling her neck. He rubbed his cock against her lips and she opened to him, taking him inside, and deep.
“Careful, Gina.” He was close to exploding. Her tongue rolled over his hardened rod, her lips sucking him, elongating him, making him even more engorged. He moved in and out through her pink lips, increasing the rhythm until he felt his hilt begin to tighten and he withdrew. Her high-pitched whine was a thing of beauty.
“Need you inside me,” she complained.
“In time. You trust me?”
“Of course.�
�
“I need a yes or no.”
“Yes, Armando. I trust you.”
“Good girl, Gina. Now, I’m going to untie you and turn you over.”
“Okay.”
“What do you say?”
“Yes, please turn me over.”
Armando released the silk tie from her wrists but kept her blindfolded. He picked her body up as she wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled to his chest. He helped her to a kneeling position at the bottom of the bed, keeping her arms stretched above her head, and then retying them together. He tucked a pillow under her belly and spread her knees to the sides, raising her butt high off the bed. He slid two fingers down the crack from her anus to her waiting peach.
She was slick and wet, and so ready for him. At the touch of his fingers, she extended her tailbone higher, presenting herself to him.
“Please,” she whined.
His hungry tongue wandered along her cleft, then rooted and planted inside her opening. Her luscious folds were hot, her nub swollen.
He studied the beautiful configuration of her white flesh, and the reddish-pink folds of her sex that glistened as he probed her with several fingers. She bent her elbows and balanced on her forearms, stretching up on tiptoe, legs perfectly straight, in a silent plea for his possession.
Armando decided he couldn’t wait any longer. He stood and placed his cock at her opening from behind. He slid the entire length of him in one slow movement, extending him inside slowly, a fraction of an inch at a time, and then back out. Her deep channel accepted him, squeezing him with her internal muscles. The flesh of her cheeks rippled as he rammed in and out of her faster, harder with each thrust. He touched her perfect skin, squeezed the delicious mounds of her bottom that overflowed in his hands as he lifted and separated her for deeper penetration. She responded by pushing against him and grinding herself over his cock.
He picked up the pace even more after several minutes. Kneeling at the edge of the bed, he pulled her knees up under her and continued to stroke. He lost himself deep inside her, and then all of a sudden he began to spill. Her muscles milked him as she gasped, meeting his thrust and opening herself to him fully.
He collapsed on top of her, his left arm covering hers above her head, entangling her bound fingers with his. They breathed in tandem, in the dark, his chest covering her back. His right arm was tucked beneath her while he alternated between stroking her nub and kneading her breasts, bracing his own weight but holding her close. He knew that he would never get enough of this woman. For the first time in his life, all he wanted to do was pleasure her, keep her in his bed.
Gina almost wept when Armando untied her wrists and removed her blindfold. They were tears of joy. She was wrung out from the sexual satisfaction she felt for the first time in her life. The glow spread throughout her body, all the way to her fingertips and toes. Every place her body touched his was electric. She felt his rhythmic breathing as his warm chest covered her back. The backs of her thighs felt the muscles in his.
He rocked them to the side and they curled up together on the bed. He reached for the coverlet, slipping it over both of them, and instantly she was in the cocoon of his scent, wrapped in his warm arms, safe and alive with passion unlike ever before.
It was surely a dream. Worries niggled at the edges of her thoughts, but she pushed them aside.
Let me have this. Just this. I’ll deal with tomorrow when I have to.
Perhaps unwise, she decided everything she’d ever wanted was resting beside her in the bed.
The next morning, Armando brought her in the breakfast in bed he’d promised the morning before, before their sexual appetites had eliminated their need for food.
He sat on the bed across from her while she looked over everything. He’d made a spinach and cheese omelet, cut up fresh strawberries and added strong black coffee.
“It all looks so yummy. I can’t make up my mind where to start. Can you help me?” It felt good to see his smile in the warm sunlight of morning in his bed.
“I can help you with lots of things, as you well know,” he said as he dipped a strawberry in whipped cream and held it to her lips.
She gobbled it up “Thought we’d exhausted the supply of whipped cream yesterday.”
He dipped another strawberry in the bowl of cream, and lobbed it into his mouth. “I always come prepared.”
“Yes you do. I like how prepared you are. I like how you demand of me the very best part. Even the damaged parts.”
“Together we make quite a team, Gina.”
“I agree.”
“Which leads us to some decisions we have to make,” he said without smiling.
“Decisions?” Doubt began to creep into her otherwise sunny morning.
“Yes. Like how fast you can break your lease, and when you can get some time off from work. I deploy in three months, and I intend to leave a thoroughly married man, if you’ll have me.”
Gina’s heart soared. This unbelievably sunny morning had exploded into a million rays of sunlight, and she realized she was right where she belonged, in his bed, and all was right with the world.
“Nothing would give me more pleasure than to be the woman you come home to, Armando Guzman. I’d consider it an honor to serve the man I love with my whole heart.”
The End
About The Author
Sharon Hamilton is a NYT and USAToday bestselling author most known for her SEAL Brotherhood series.
Her Golden Vampires of Tuscany are not like any vamps you've read before, since they don't have to go to ground and can walk around in the full light of the sun.
Sharon's Guardian Angels struggle with the human charges they are sent to save, often escaping their vanilla world of Heaven for the brief human one. You won't find any of these beings in any Sunday school class.
All of Sharon's books are available on eBooks (most formats), print and Audible.
A lifelong organic gardener, Sharon lives with her husband in the Wine Country of Northern California, where most of her stories take place. When she's not writing, she's getting verra verra dirty in the mud or wandering Farmer's Markets looking for new Heirloom varieties of vegetables and flowers.
Sharon is represented by Jill Marsal at the Marsal Lyon Literary Agency.
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Irrevocable, Irrevocable, Book 1
by
Skye Callahan
Disclaimer:
Material in this work of fiction is of a graphic sexual nature containing elements of non consentual sex and violence and is not intended for audiences under 18 years of age.
IRREVOCABLE is a dark romance intended for adult readers 18+ only. Not intended for those easily offended by dark subject matter.
Chapter One
Stolen
Through the haze of sleep, I felt hands on me. Cold and rough. I thought for a fleeting moment that it might have been Kyle.
Then, I remembered our break up.
It had happened weeks ago, but maybe that part was the dream. My memory was fucked and I couldn’t latch onto a thought long enough to ride it out of the fog.
“Did you make a decision?” Kyle asked.
I rolled over and pulled the comforter up to my neck. I had decided that I didn’t want to make a decision—mostly that I didn’t appreciate him trying to force me into a decision when I had told him time after time that I didn’t want him moving into my apartment even after six months together.
“You can barely afford the place anyway since your sister moved out. I don’t get why it’s such a big deal unless you don’t want to be together.”
I did, and yet, the threat of him leaving seemed like a relief….
Hands groped and pulled—rough against my skin and digging into muscle and bone. Too many hands. The bits of memory faded as I tried to retreat from the onslaugh
t. My back pressed into a hard surface beneath me, and my nostrils filled with the smell of musk and damp stale air.
I had no idea where I was, or how I’d gotten there.
I kicked and gasped, trying to get back to the surface where reality lurked. It shimmered in the distance, just out of reach, like the sun on the surface of the water during a dive.
A hand latched onto my hair and held my head back. My eyelids were finally freed from the sticky muck that held me in semi-consciousness, and I opened them to find myself staring up into unfamiliar eyes.
I only held his gaze for a few seconds—if that—but it seemed like it lasted for hours as my brain fought to categorize the details. Its useless attempt to understand what was going on.
The man clutching my hair had vivid green eyes, but they may as well have been black given the emotionless void they displayed. His hair was shaggy, brown with a mix of grey, the same colors that stood out in his unkempt stubble.
As if he needed any help looking rough.
He exhaled and his breath settled over my face, reeking of booze and cigarettes. The smell made me queasy, but I didn’t have time to dwell on that, as another set of hands tugged at my jeans.
My gaze traveled around the room, taking in the small crowd. At least half a dozen men surrounded the table where they had me spread out like a holiday feast. All dressed differently, from ragged tank tops to well-fitting dark button-down shirts, they all projected an air of unchecked danger. Necks marked with tattoos, hands covered in callouses and scars. Scruffy faces accented their sneers and smirks, as they stood above me staring down with eyes starved of humanity and full of lust.
Apparently, they didn’t expect me to put up a fight, because aside from the hand tangled in my hair, no one seemed concerned with keeping a tight grip on me. Probably because they outnumbered me, and I assumed they would have no problem beating the crap out of me if I struggled.
