I nodded mutely, gazing at his beautiful, ruthless face, my heart hammering in my chest, suddenly wanting a fifty shades moment, wanting his threat to be real. Then he kissed me with a confusing tenderness completely at odds with the coldness in his voice and his intense hold on my wrists. “I’ll be right back.”
Oh. My. God! Shit, what was I thinking? I barely knew this guy. Cold trepidation settled in the pit of my stomach now that he wasn't working me over with his evil, seductive charms. What was he going to do? This is why tequila is bad, bad, bad.
He returned quickly, but not quickly enough to prevent real fear from cooling my blood. There must've been something in my eyes, because he paused uncertainly, setting aside the items he’d fetched. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?” I nodded.
Overcome with embarrassment, I burrowed into the sleeping bags wishing I could take back the last several minutes—God, I’m such a loser, could I appear any more desperate—the mattress groaned as he tugged the cloth away. “Talk to me babe. I need words.”
“It’s just that I’ve never done anything like this.” Or most of the things you’ve done to me already. I yanked the bag back over my face, totally discomposed.
He chuckled. “You know, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. This isn’t something I’m normally into; we’re just goofing around.”
I peeked over my cloth shield. “No, it’s now or never. I’ll never be this brave again.” Besides, after this weekend, it was unlikely I’d ever hear from him again, so I might as well go out with a bang.
“Okay, if you’re sure.” I nodded.
He whipped the sleeping bag back, switching identity so fast it was startling. “Why don’t we start by getting rid of that last bit of lace.” Pressing my knees together, bending them up, he divested me of my panties. “Don’t cover yourself again,” he warned, turning grim.
He nicked the edge of a towel with a penknife, and the sound of tearing cloth made my heart pound. “To protect this beautiful skin,” he murmured, stroking my calf—oh, my God. I can’t believe he’s really going to tie me up. Shit, I can’t believe I’m going to let him—he wrapped torn strips of cloth around both my ankles and wrists, securing them with duct tape.
“Not too tight?”
I shook my head.
“Sweetness, I need you to answer me out loud so there’s no misunderstandings.”
“They’re not too tight,” I muttered, grateful the cool light camouflaged the redness dancing in my cheeks.
“Good girl,” he approved, his words, a rich caress. He held up a couple zip ties. “I’m glad I brought extras. I use these to secure the light strings on the canopy.” He loosely chained my right wrist and ankle together then did the same to my left. Cocking his head, he smoothed his palms over my clenched knees, considering. “Almost perfect.”
I watched with fearful fascination as he pulled out a strip of duct tape, folded it then pulled and folded again, and again, pausing occasionally to measure it against the width of the mattress. When he was satisfied, he worked the finished length underneath the mattress, catching me when I almost tumbled off. He fed the ends through the zip ties hanging from the cuffs, pulling my ankles widely apart then tied them off.
I felt both vulnerable and ridiculous as he grinned down at me looking extremely pleased. “Well, now, isn’t this a fine sight.” An unwelcome image of a frog ready for dissection popped into my head. I suppressed a jittery giggle, overcome with an urge to start croaking, just to see the look on his face—anxiety obviously making me stupid.
“Comfy?” He waited patiently as I experimented, testing my restraints. Surprisingly, I was—well, except for having of my vagina on display. My hands were securely manacled and I couldn't close my legs. And, although I could lift my hips off the mattress, arching up from my shoulders, I couldn't get enough leverage to retreat or escape anything he might to do to me.
A falling sensation replaced my breath as he loomed, casting predatory shadows as he eased off his shorts. Kneeling beside me, he toyed with another strip of torn terrycloth, observing me with hooded eyes. “Look at me,” he growled, and my heart surged. Spreading his thighs wide, he smoothed a hand down his body, his long fingers following the dark path, absently combing through a black tangle while his cock jutted thick and heavy below. He dropped his hand lower, fondling himself. “I want you to have a good look at what you’re gonna to get before I take your sight from you.” I dragged my greedy eyes from his cock—there was no other word to describe it—other guys might have penis, or whatever, but he had a cock: Beautiful and peacock proud—God, he’s so beautiful, every harsh inch of him. And huge, so freaking huge—all ripped muscle and leashed aggression—Scary.
“I hope you like big men, sweetness.” My eyes dropped reflexively back to the hand still moving rhythmically between his legs; the blunt knob playing hide and seek as he lazily palmed himself. “Think you can handle all this? I guess we’ll find out soon enough ‘cause you’re gonna get this cock, all of it, and you’re gonna take every fucking inch.” Holy shit, he’s good at this—I'd never been more terrified and turned on in my life.
He stopped fondling himself and rose up on his knees, his cock damply kissing the side of my breast as he tied the strip of cloth behind my head and adjusted it over my eyes until there was only a crack of light at the bottom. The mattress shifted then I felt him at my knees. “God, I could look at you all night.” I was glad I couldn’t see him. He had a perfect view of my sex in all its glory, glistening wetly from a thatch of black curls—shit. Tequila really did make me stupid—just when I was about to chicken out, he settled between my thighs, radiating heat over my cooling skin.
“Now what was I doing earlier when you refused to behave? Ahhh, yes, I remember; I was admiring these beauties.” He tweaked my nipple, startling a gasp from me. “I think it’s time crazy nympho girl came out and play,” he said villainously. He rubbed his nose down my sternum as he breathed kisses between my breasts, his abs flexing against intimate places. Fingertips floated across my flesh delivering feathery frustrating touches. “So beautiful. You want more?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you do.” He chuckled darkly. “You’ll get it, don’t you worry, but first I’m gonna drive you crazy.” His lips followed his hand skimming down my stomach, up my thigh then back to my breasts. “I want you thinking about me going down on you while I suck on your tits. I wonder how many times I can make you come before I fuck you senseless.” Sweet Mary, Mother of God, he’s Satan.
I squirmed against the duct tape holding me firmly in place as he kneaded my breasts, his mouth closing over a nipple. He suckled strongly, pressing and massaging the tip against the roof of his mouth then shifted the assault to the other one, his stubble abrading my skin. A lick… A squeeze… Then a hot, hard suck. His tongue probed and my groin throbbed—oh, God—this was not the perfunctory foreplay I was accustom to. There was nothing polite or indifferent about the hot mouth and bruising fingers savaging me while I twisted in my shackles. “That’s right baby, struggle, try and get away.”
He kissed his way down my body, his shoulders pushing my thighs wider. Then I felt him breathe between my legs. “You thinking about how it’s gonna feel when I put my mouth on you? I bet you’ll melt on my tongue. How do you like it? Long, flat, firm strokes? Or fast little flicks on your clit? Or lazy circles? Answer me babe.” He nipped at my mons. “How do you like to be tasted?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well then, I guess we’ll have to try a little of everything so you can make an informed decision.” Although his words were equitable, his tone had a sinister twist. He disappeared from between my thighs—Nooo, come back—then he was back pressing something soft against me. “Lift up sweetness.” He stuffed a couple pillows under me, crudely serving up my privates. “That’s better. You look so pretty, like a flower.” Something combed through my pubic hair—his fingers. He was petting me, playing with my curls, u
npredictably grazing my swollen clit, winding my anticipation tighter and tighter. It was a sweet torture that had me pulsing even as it stirred fearful wonder—how long would he tease me like this? What if he decided to do this all night?
“I could design a multitude of monuments based on this.”
“Mat?” Was that me moaning like a porn star?
“Yeah baby?” Blunt fingers part my folds, holding me open.
What was I going to ask him? I shook my head as a finger slipped up from the bottom, drawing slick, swirling designs around the edges of my sex while my center roared with angry need, my hips unconsciously rising whenever it strayed near. Then he was gone. God, again? What now?
I waited uneasily, my ears straining for a hint of what he was up to. Frustration and the unsettling sound of tearing cloth made me so edgy; the restraints were the only thing that kept me from flying off the mattress when he returned to wrap more bands around my thighs, shackling them to my ankles, chaining my hips down. “I want you still,” he said, his lupine, rumble threaded with heat as he resumed tormenting me. Stroking and teasing, bringing me back to the edge of orgasm, but no further.
“Are you ready for me to taste you now?” There was malicious glee tinging his voice.
“Please.” Oh, please… please… It was little more than a moan as I begged for more.
“I don’t think so.” He pushed one long digit slowly inside me then pulled it out just as slow. “I’m just not sensing enough urgency from you,” he said, slowly penetrating me over and over, first one, than two fingers driving in and out. “Convince me.”
Sensing urgency? What the hell? “Please, Mat?”
“Please what, sweetness. What do you need?” He twisted his fingers around curving them upward. Oh, god, that’s good.
“Please taste me. Oh God, Mat, please.”
The first brush of his tongue ripped an inarticulate cry from me. “Shit! Shhhh… Angie—Baby, you’re going to wake the entire camp. Do you want me to stop?”
No, no, no… Don’t you dare stop. I shook my head.
“Then be quiet and let me eat in peace.” He chuckled darkly, filled with nefarious intent, his fingers gliding in and out over that magical spot I’d only heard about, until last night. The warm swipe of his tongue made my jaw clench, followed by another, then another, gradually becoming more focused. Finally swirling and flicking my clit. His fingers plunged faster, harder, feeding something inside me—something big—and my heels dug into the mattress as my thighs shook. As I exploded, his tongue sped faster, his palm slapping rhythmically against my core as his fingers plunged, delivering excruciating sensation—too much—oh, God, stop. He didn't and the restraints rendered my attempts to escape ineffectual. Then without warning, another orgasm flowed outward.
The mattress jerked and huffed. “Shhhhh… baby I got you.” I was a quaking mess by the time he finally relented. After a couple sharp tugs, my legs flopped rag-doll limp. I floated numbly as he messaged, them stretching them out then wrapped himself around me. “Talk to me Angie, you all right?”
“I think I broke a tooth.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He chuckled, pulling off my blind fold, “That was crazy. I can’t wait to do that again.” He’s going to kill me. Worst survival skills ever.
That was intense. I had her nestled under my chin as we spooned. She was soft, smelling like sex and shampoo. So completely open, I was filled with wonder. She’d come so hard, she shattered. Yeah, I’m a fucking god.
Her brain came back on line far too soon, tension chasing away her post-coital slackness. “You’re awfully quiet sweetness. Have you lost all respect for me now that you’ve turned me into your love slave?”
“Slave, right. That’s why I’m the one in manacles.” She huffed, raising a banded wrist over her head.
“And you look mighty fetching in them too.” I captured her hand, kissing it before tucking it against her middle, pulling her closer. “Now, you still haven’t answered my question. Are you going to kick me to the curb now that you’ve had your wicked way with me?”
Silence…
“Talk to me,” I growled.
Nothing… Shit, time to bring out the big guns.
Fisting her hair, I pulled her head back, gently clamping my teeth over her vulnerable throat making her breath hitch—that’s right sweetness; I’m not done with you, not by a long shot. You’re mine—I waited until she went slack then smoothed a kiss over my bite.
“Me, kick you to the curb? I think you’ve got that backwards. Guys like you don’t keep girls like me.” She’s worried I’m gonna dump her?
“What the fuck do you mean ‘Guys like me?’” She squirmed, trying to put distance between us—not happening—I threw a restraining leg over her as tears welled up in her eyes.
“I don’t know… It’s just— It’s just that you’re so— You’re like my Mom.” What the hell? “You’re like a black hole, attracting everyone that comes near. People are drawn to you because everything about you is heroic—like Achilles, or Hercules. You’re the man every guy wants to be; the hero every woman fantasizes about—hell, you can’t get a cup of coffee without the waitress showing you her tits.”
“So you fantasize about me?”
“Out of all that, that’s what got your attention?” Disbelief shone from her eyes. Well, at least she’d stopped crying.
“Hey, guy… You can’t go tossing around words like fantasize and tits in the same breath and not expect my brain to head south—By the way, I find the whole comparison to your mother, just wrong.” There was that smile. “And by girls like you, you mean?” And… the smile’s gone—that’s right honey, nice try, but I’m not so easily distracted.
“A freak.” Motherfucker—I wanted to kill every asshole who’d done a number on her self-confidence.
“Yeah, we did get our freak on, didn’t we.” You can blush all you want but there’s a lot more kink in you than you’re willing to admit.
“You know that’s not what I meant.” I quirked an eyebrow, and waited for her to continue. “Fine.”
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “I’m an outlier. My brain falls so far outside the bell curve I might as well be a different species. I communicate poorly; I’m clumsy, socially inept, timid, plain…” Tears trickled out of the corners of her eyes, her voice thickening, winding down to a whisper in a way that just killed me. “And I’ll never be normal.”
“You finished?” She nodded, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. “Let’s see now—I’m not xenophobic, so the species thing? Not a problem (kiss) you seem to be communicating just fine. (kiss) Your clumsiness is endearing, (kiss) it gives me an excuse to touch you. (kiss) You’re not socially inept; you’re scared. (kiss) You’re only timid when you don’t feel safe—trust me; there was nothing timid about the girl who came on my tongue a little while ago. (kiss… kiss… Kiss) You’re beautiful, and I’ll keep saying it until you’re a believer. (kiss) And what’s normal? Normal’s just another word for mediocre. Why would I settled for mediocre when fate hands me exceptional?”
I consumed her salty tears with open-mouthed kisses, touching her tenderly, worshiping her with my hands and mouth, eating gasps and little high-pitched moans; hardening when she lightly raked my head with her nails, and made a few noises of my own.
“I’d really like to make love to you now, if you think you’re up to it.” That’s right, sweetness; feel me. This is the truth; my body doesn’t lie.
“I don’t know; you made some tall promises last night—I believe begging was mentioned.” I’d like to think it was my awesome lovin’ that caused the unsteadiness in her voice, not left over tears. I felt her smile against my shoulder. “I also seem to recall something about fucking me hard.”
“True, and if recollection serves me, you already did a fair amount of begging when I was fucking you with my tongue.” I couldn't help preening. “And yes, I fully intend to fuck you so thoroughly that you’r
e ruined for any other guy. But I just want to love you first.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
She raked her claws down my torso, making me shudder as I stretched above her, fumbling for a condom. “So, it’s like that is it,” I said, looking down at her grinning face, pinning her hands above her head. “Behave little girl, or you’ll find yourself back in shackles.” She looked back guilelessly—oh sweetheart, you’re heading for a world of trouble if you keep that up.
Sitting back, I rolled the latex down my cock watching her eyes darkened. The way she watched me touch myself was so fucking hot. I grabbed her waist sliding her hips into me, and admired the wonder lying before me. Her eyes glittered with lust. Her lips, kiss swollen, tight berry dusky nipples, and finally her thighs, pale next to my darker skin.
I settled over her. I loved tangling my fingers in her curls, watching her face. I ground against her, my cock trapped between us, pressed against my belly. I hooked an arm under her knee opening her up so I could slide the underside of my cock against her growing slickness.
When she was ready, I pushed into her. She was lush and swollen, but her arousal made her tight, and I had to use short shallow thrusts, slowly working myself into her an inch at a time as she gradually stretched to accommodate me. Her sex spasmed as her body fought then embraced my intrusion. She felt so fucking good. When our pelvises finally met, I was dripping with sweat, and all I needed was one thrust, one rake of her nails, one bite and I’d be finished. Please… Please don’t move baby, not yet.
I rested my forehead against hers, dragging in ragged breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control before I came like some adolescent schoolboy—oh, sweetness, what you do to me. “God, Angie, you feel so fucking good. You okay?”
“Yeah.” She shifted her hips restlessly. No… No… Oh, God baby just give me a minute. Please hold still.
The Science of Loving Page 14
