by Wicked Ties
Morgan stilled, more relieved than she would have thought possible.
The wet slide of Jack’s tongue brushed across the swell of her breast. His finger trailed a gentle path down the inside, then around, tracing the naughty cutout in her bra, so close to her sensitive areola. She arched in invitation.
He ignored her.
“Your nipples are the palest blushing pink,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning right against one of the tight beads. “They turn a sweet, pale rose when you’re aroused.”
Even as he teased her with the possibility of his mouth over her breast, his finger was on the move again, drawing in a seemingly random pattern across her chest, down her abdomen, then back up. “Your freckles are fascinating to trace, and one day, I’ll spend hours finding each and every one and licking them until you beg me to fuck you. But not now.”
God, his words were like throwing gas on a bonfire. The ache he’d started between her thighs still gripped her in its unyielding clutch, so strong, sweat broke out on her forehead. Her toes curled against the need. And now her breasts were tight, screaming for him to do something—anything—to ease the unforgiving pleasure demanding release inside her.
And she’d barely been here five minutes.
“Tonight, my mission is to see how dark I can make those sweet pink nipples.”
Before Morgan could even ponder what that meant, Jack’s tongue slid over a hard point, once, twice. He primed it with unhurried strokes, sending her heart rate into turmoil. Certain he meant to slowly kill her. Morgan moaned.
Jack sucked the peak without mercy, as if he could inhale her at once. The clasp of his teeth both above and below her nipple anchored her in place for the hot suction of his mouth. Equal parts pleasure and pain exploded sensation through her breasts, darting out in all directions through her body until, like a flash, it burst between her legs.
She gasped. In response, he bit harder, sucked more strongly in seemingly endless draws. Fresh pain bombarded her like icy pinpricks, drawing her nipples tighter. She whimpered.
“Take the pain, cher. Take it for me. You can.”
Disappointing him was not an option for some reason. Nodding, Morgan pressed her lips together.
Jack swept the same nipple back in his mouth, clamping down tightly with his teeth again as he drew on her breast with remorseless suction. The pain shot through her system again. This time, a thick slice of pleasure followed, shocking and scrumptious. The whimper that had escaped her once before became a moan.
Her nipples would be sore tomorrow—and she didn’t care. What he was doing made her body ache yet soar, made her tremble with erotic fear and sexual need all at once.
This was everything she’d ever dreamed in her deep, dark midnight desires.
A moment later, Morgan felt the grip of his fingers tormenting her other nipple in a tight press. He twisted the hard bud, wrenching another moan out of her. A tight pinch coincided with an erotic bite on her other nipple.
She gasped.
“That’s it,” he coaxed, easing away. “Pretty.”
He teased the wet nipple with the soft pad of his thumb. Pleasure, pain, pleasure again. The lines blurred. All she knew was how much she wanted Jack to cover her, fill her, make her come.
Make her his, God help her, for more than tonight.
Lifting her hips, Morgan wriggled them, enticing him, silently pleading.
Laughter rumbled from his chest. “Oh, I’m tempted. But not yet, cher. Not for a long while.”
She sounded a fresh moan of protest—until something sharp with little metal teeth bit into her damp nipple. A gasp tore past her moan and shoved its way past her throat.
“Oh, God!” she breathed against the pain.
“I know. Take a deep breath. I have a feeling you’ll come to appreciate the bite of the clamp . . . sooner rather than later.”
No. It was horrendously painful, bordering on cruel. She took a deep breath. It didn’t help. Another breath.
Jack lowered his mouth to the other nipple, the one his fingers had toyed with previously. A soft suck, a gentle lave. The contrasts between sensations sent her soaring. Pain balanced with pleasure. The ache behind her clit tightened again, so intense. Her vagina clenched, so achingly empty. Morgan arched up. Her hips moved restlessly. What was happening to her?
She had never been so aroused in her life.
The pain biting into her clamped nipple began to ease as she grew accustomed to the sensation. The sting turned to a pressurized numbness. And Jack’s attention to the hard little point in his mouth grew rougher.
“Jack!” she cried out, her fingers digging into the table’s black leather and the padding beneath.
For a split second, his mouth left her breast. He slapped the flat of his fingers across her mound again. Sensation ratchetted through her body. A crescendo of tingles rose in her body like a scream. A pending climax bubbled between her legs, and she raised her hips in offering again.
“That’s not what you call me,” he growled.
“Sir.” She panted. “Sir, please . . .”
“I’ll fuck you, but not until I’m ready. Not until you’re ready. Now be quiet before I turn you over and spank your ass.”
His words dashed her hopes for relief. She sank her teeth deep into her lip, trying to hold in a groan of protest. It was soon forgotten as Jack returned his teeth to her nipple, nipped down, sucked hard, and groaned.
His voice vibrated deep inside her, shooting all the way to her clit. She was on a torture rack of pleasure. Amazing sensations piled one on top of the other, smothering anything that resembled thought or dissent. She ached beyond anything she’d ever dreamed, anything she thought possible. And he had yet to even touch her vagina, much less penetrate it.
Then another clamp bit into her other nipple, digging into skin, dredging up even more response. A fireball of pleasure darted straight from her breasts, down between her legs, adding to the conflagration already burning. If Jack touched her there, even once, she feared she would launch like a rocket, no matter how much he demanded she hold it back. The orgasm was huge, so enormous it would swallow her whole. Morgan fought against it, shaking her head in desperation. Sweat poured off her. She gripped the table tighter.
The ache just kept building and building. When would it crest?
“And now those nipples are a deep, demanding red. Beautiful,” he murmured.
Every breath was between a pant and a moan when Jack uncuffed her wrists and ankles. He helped her rubbery legs to the floor. In passing, she wondered what he had planned, but realized it didn’t matter. He would give her amazing pleasure. And sooner or later, he would detonate this awesome ache roiling inside her.
Willingly, she folded herself into his arms. He dipped her head back and dove into her mouth, devouring. It was a kiss of hunger, a kiss of possession. Morgan responded, meeting him halfway, tangling her tongue with his.
“You challenge my self-control, cher, just by being so fucking beautiful and submissive. No one has ever pushed me so hard, so fast,” he rasped against her throat, then moved up to nip at her lobe. “I can’t wait to get deep inside you and open you up to all new pleasures.”
Restlessly, Morgan shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She could hardly wait for Jack to get deep inside of her, too. She hoped now. Right now.
He spun her around and grabbed the strappy edges of her crotchless panties. The moisture pooling inside her and drenching the delicate fabric gushed out, spreading wetness down the insides of her thighs.
“You’re so juicy, like a sweet ripe peach,” he praised as he bent her over the table.
She whimpered as her clamped nipples made contact with the surface of the table and a fresh jolt of pleasure-pain screamed down her spine, into her drenched channel. She tensed, wanting to fight, wanting to reach her own hand between her legs and give her clit a furious rub until she exploded. Instinct told her such an action would bring down enormous punishment. With anoth
er moan, she managed to refrain.
“Such a good girl. So beautifully submissive, cher. Do you want me to fuck you?”
Morgan didn’t even care what she said anymore as long as Jack made the ache go away. “Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, sir. Please . . .”
With her feet flat on the floor, Jack removed her thong, peeling the damp fabric from her flesh. Then he cuffed one ankle at the corner of the table and licked his way up her thigh. Closer, closer he strayed to the heart of her ache. She burned, yearned, moaned as his mouth neared her pussy.
He only laughed and bent to cuff her other ankle, then laved off the juice coating that thigh—still providing no relief to her weeping vagina. Instead, he stepped away for a moment, his footsteps alerting her to his retreat. Movement, the soft clash of plastic on plastic, the opening of a drawer. God, why wouldn’t he hurry?
“Ah, yes,” he muttered, seemingly satisfied. Then he turned back to her. “You’ve earned a reward.”
Yes! Thrill and need and longing all twined together at his words, wrapping around her clit, spreading a new warmth to her heart. She was absurdly glad that she’d pleased him, and insanely proud of herself for submitting so totally. And she absolutely wanted that reward.
The rustle of clothes came next, brushing against her anticipation. Naked. He had to be naked. She wriggled her ass, praying it would entice him.
“The minute I praise you, you turn naughty.” His mock chastisement came accompanied with a playful swat to her backside.
The laughter in his voice had her gritting her teeth.
“I’m losing my patience, and I’ve already lost my sense of humor,” she bitched, knowing it would piss him off. But she couldn’t stop herself. He’d pushed her too far.
Jack said nothing, merely stepped up behind her and blanketed her backside. An inferno of male muscle and musky skin enveloped her. The strong, thick column of his cock nudged its way between her cheeks. Morgan clawed at the padded table.
Only to have Jack grab her wrists and cuff them again.
Before the echo of the last click finished resounding in the room, the sound of his hearty smack on her ass took its place.
Fire heated her cheek, then seeped down toward her needy pussy. He was going to tease her some more? Damn it, she’d had enough.
“Jack. Sir . . .” she corrected. “I—I can’t take it anymore. Please, fuck me.”
“In my time, in my way,” he growled, then punctuated the statement with another smack to her ass.
Fresh heat bloomed inside her, pushing past her sudden rush of temper.
Suddenly, she felt his fingers probing her ass, wriggling between her cheeks, bringing something cold and liquid with them.
Lube? Oh, God.
Her heartbeat revved up like an Indy 500 winner’s engine. He’d said just this morning that he intended to bury himself in her ass and settle in for a nice long ride. Did he—?
The press of two lubricated fingers inside her ass cut off the rest of the question. The stretching and burning of tight, virgin flesh hit her first. The pressure followed, along with a sense of fullness. And when he manipulated the fingers in and out of her body with a slow drag, then, oh hell, the pleasure completely shut her brain down.
“That’s it.” He gripped her hip with his free hand and encouraged her hips back, down onto his invading fingers.
She moaned.
“You like that?”
Almost without thought, almost against her will, she gasped, “Yes.”
His fingers stilled. “Yes . . . ?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent. Let’s find out just how wet you are.”
Jack lifted his hand from her hip and brought it around Morgan’s body . . . right onto the swollen, hard knot of her clit.
She shouted as tingles tore through her belly with his first touch.
Fingers pumping in her ass, swirling on her clit. Sensation overload threatened. She felt the blood surging between her legs, along with the dangerous ramping up of pleasure. She clamped down, trying to stop, but it was no use. She felt the first flutters of orgasm begin.
So did Jack.
“No coming yet,” he commanded, withdrawing his fingers from her clit, her ass.
“Sir, please. Please!”
“You beg so sweetly, how can I refuse?” he purred in her ear. “But I must . . .”
He retreated a moment, and she mourned the loss of his spiced flesh over hers, his body heat seeping into her skin. A tear, a snap. A condom, she realized. Thank God!
But she had only a moment to celebrate before he pried the cheeks of her ass open and she felt the broad tip of his lubricated cock pressing against her anus.
“Push down and take me inside you. I’ll make you come so hard you’ll scream the walls down.”
Yes. Please, yes!
Morgan tilted her hips back and pushed with her muscles. The fat head of his cock slid in, pressing, burning. The pain. Oh, God . . . It wouldn’t work, wouldn’t fit. Every time he moved, even breathed, the pain rushed over her. In desperation, she clawed at the table again, moaning.
Then he glided past the tight ring of muscle and tunneled his way inside, slowly. So slowly. Morgan gasped as he forged each new inch into her body, deeper, deeper, in a seemingly endless, pleasure pain-filled slide.
When she stood on her tiptoes, certain she couldn’t take a centimeter more of his cock, she felt the gentle slap of his balls against her. He was in to the hilt.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned. “You’re going to rip at my composure every time you breathe.”
Morgan certainly hoped so. That pending orgasm still bubbled just under the surface of her skin, waiting for one more touch to her clit, one long stroke of his cock.
Instead, Jack gripped her hips with insistent fingers, drew in a harsh breath, then another.
“I’m not going to last long,” he croaked. “Neither are you.”
With that, he pulled back, almost to the point of withdrawal, then sank all the way inside the depths of her ass again. The wicked, burning pressure had Morgan pounding a fist on the table. Pleasure and pain. Forbidden and fabulous. Oh, she could lose herself in sensation like this. Close. So damn close . . .
He ripped off the blindfold then. She blinked, trying to get accustomed to the haze of red light overhead. Being able to see again didn’t blunt her sense of touch or smell at all. Instead, she could see a mirror beside the door, and the strain apparent in Jack’s reflection as he held back, all corded muscles in his shoulders, the stress of restraint in his neck. Veins bulged in his forearms as white-knuckled fingers gripped her hips.
“Watch us,” he commanded. “Watch me fuck your tight virgin ass.”
Morgan watched, helpless to do anything else as he pushed in, pulled out, in long, strong glides, filling her with mind-numbing pleasure so hot, so huge, she could barely take it in. She whimpered, transfixed by the sight, by the feel of him inside her.
“One last thing and I’ll let you come, cher.”
Morgan licked dry lips. “Yes. Anything, sir.”
“In the fantasies you told Andrew, did you mention being tied down?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you tell him you wanted to have your nipples clamped?”
“No.”
“Do you like it?” He reached up and gave a gentle tug on the chain between the clamps.
Great swells of pain and ecstasy tumbled through her nipples, spun through her body, swelling her clit again. “Yes.”
“Did you tell him you wanted him to fuck your ass?”
“Yes, sir.”
And Jack did, two more bittersweet, slow, strong thrusts into her, all the way to the hilt. Morgan gasped, moaned. She couldn’t take any more.
“Please, sir!”
“Almost . . .” he promised. “What else did you tell him you wanted?”
No. If she told him that . . . No. What would he think?
“Th-that’s all,” she l
ied.
He smacked her ass and plunged into her with a series of quick, harsh strokes. Morgan cried out. More heat thrown onto the ever-burning fire between her legs. Damn, why couldn’t she come? The climax burning inside her was bigger than anything she’d ever felt. She should have tumbled over long ago.
Had her body already learned to wait for his command?
“Lie to me again and I’ll stroke myself, come at your feet, and leave you to ache all night.”
Morgan swallowed, never doubting he’d do it. “Please don’t make me say it, sir.”
“Last chance,” he grated out, stilling his thrusts completely. “Or I’m leaving.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, grappling helplessly between her body’s needs and her fears. Would he judge her harshly? Would he think she was a depraved whore, too?
“Tell me,” he cajoled.
With a gentle pinch, Jack removed the clamps from her nipples. Blood rushed back into them, swelling them with a burst of need. Yes! Then the sensation rocketed down to her clit.
Just as it hit her there, he reached beneath her again, fingers hovering so close to her aching bundle of nerves, she could feel the heat of his hand. But still, he didn’t touch her clit. Morgan moaned. All she had to do was be honest about one itty-bitty secret and he’d give her the best orgasm of her life.
This was Jack. He understood her fantasies. Clearly, he had some of his own. He’d given her everything her body secretly desired, so far. He would help her deal with this, too. She had to believe he would. Had to have trust . . .
“Two men,” she blurted as she opened her eyes to find Jack’s gaze in the mirror by the door.
Instead, she found Deke standing in the portal, watching them.
Her eyes widened. She bucked under Jack, trying to get away. But cuffed at the wrist and ankle, she wasn’t going anywhere.
Neither was Deke. He stood and stared as Jack tunneled into her ass. The heat of brutal arousal on his face, doubled with the thick spike of cock in his pants, burned into her. Deke’s blue eyes locked with hers, and pristine, pure need burst through her body.
She tore her gaze away, found Jack’s in the mirror to Deke’s right. Her gaze connected with his dark one. Locked in place.
