by Rie Warren
I turned from her—barely taking in the slight clutter of feminine things draped over one chair in the otherwise tidy room. Everything I wanted was on the bed. Except for . . .
At her dresser, I slid open the top drawer.
Another sinister grin pulled at my lips as I inspected a whole pile of colorful panties. Lace. Thongs. Sheer things that reminded me of the pair I had in my pocket right now.
“What are you looking for?” she asked, her tone carnal.
“Stockings.” Pulling out a handful of soft black stockings, I returned to her.
A tremor worked over her, and I wondered if she thought I really hadn’t been planning on following through with my threat. My threat to tie . . . her . . . up.
“Arms up over your head now, baby.”
Chapter Fourteen
HONORÉ
“ARMS UP OVER YOUR head now, baby.”
At Saint’s dark tone and dominant stance, a shudder wracked my entire body.
He laced my stockings between his fingers, testing the stretchy material.
Oh my lord. He was really going to do it.
Anticipation and a little trepidation made my pussy flush with wetness.
I raised my arms and wrapped my hands around the top posts of the bed.
“Now spread those sexy legs so I can see everything.”
I did as told, and felt wanton for my compliance in this illicit fantasy come to life.
“Don’t move, Honoré.” His green gaze roved all over me, and he made me lay there spread-eagled while he finished undoing his jeans and shoved them off his legs.
When he stood back up, the sight was overwhelming.
He was improbably hard, the piercing glinting, his cockhead swelling, the whole thick shaft slick with precum.
He was impossibly huge, standing naked in my bedroom, a muscular tower of a man half-covered in tattoos.
As he came closer, a fat drop of preejeaculate welled from the widening slit of his cockhead before leaving a streaky trail over the length to the base he encircled with his fist.
A more virile male specimen I’d never seen, and I lay motionless before him except for the quick breaths I couldn’t control.
Rough hands grasped my ankle, and he tied me tightly to the bed post in fast motions.
His eyes roamed between my thighs; my wet pulsing center open to him.
He licked his lips, and more fluttery anticipation swelled inside me.
With my second ankle tied, he moved onto the bed and straddled me.
His weighty cock bounced before slapping up against his hard-ridged abs.
I swallowed.
He grinned.
Crawling higher, Saint swiped the wet tip of his cock against both my nipples. He painted my areolae in precum, looking straight into my eyes as I arched. Helplessly.
No words spoken, he came even closer to my face. His heavy sac brushed my chin then dropped down into my gasping mouth. I licked and swabbed and bathed the fat testicles, swamped in the male musk of his body.
He hadn’t even started on me yet, and I was absolutely on fire for him.
As I lavished his balls, he tied up one wrist then the other, and I could do nothing but mewl when he pulled his saliva-wet sac from my hungry mouth.
“Greedy.” He rolled off me, offering me no more skin-on-skin contact while he kneeled on the bed.
Saint surveyed his handiwork, testing the strength of the stocking bondage, grunting out curse words about how pretty I looked all trussed up for him.
And I was aroused, being tied, being held down.
Being . . . helpless.
When he finally set upon me, I moaned so loudly my voice was unrecognizable. But he didn’t take me to the place I needed. He didn’t take me to release.
He worked me over with wisps of touch.
Barely-there contact.
Brushes of his fingertips.
The ghost of his lips.
He coasted all over every inch of my body, his goatee tickling and his fingers traipsing, but he never once touched my nipples or went near enough to my gushing core.
I lay open and aching, pussy pulsing and nipples puckered tight as he nibbled at my sensitive hipbone or nipped at the delicate skin on the side of my neck.
For several excruciating minutes, he simply coasted his fingertips up one trembling inner thigh and down the other. Over. And over.
His hand with the heavy rings plied my flesh like I played my instruments. Strumming, but never did he so much as touch the achy center of my need. The closest he got was when he licked and bit at the undersides of my tits while his fingers dragged along the inner crease of my thigh . . . right . . . at . . . the . . . crux of my pussy.
My thighs were soaked. The bedding beneath my ass too.
Perspiration had dampened the hair at my temples.
Still he tormented me until I writhed and moaned and moved as much as I was able in an attempt to follow his touch.
“You’re so mean.” Arching as far as I could, I tried to get closer to his fingers dancing up and down from my belly button to the top of my mound.
He just chuckled, his laugh absolutely filthy. “That’s what you get, sexy wench, for teasing me all night.”
I growled at him, gnashing my teeth, twisting in my bonds.
With a final wicked grin, he immediately latched onto one breast.
Shocked by the suddenness of his attack, my back came off the bed.
Oh yes!
The hunger with which he devoured my tits made me scream out loud.
He mauled both breasts, wetly lapping until both orbs shined. He sucked my nipples ’til all blood rushed to the surface, suffusing the sensitive areolae in deep dark pink. His tongue flicked and his goatee tickled, and his mouth dragged inhuman sounds from my throat.
I could do nothing but thrash . . . helpless.
His teeth dragged off my nipples, leaving both puffy and enflamed. His teeth nibbled a center line down my belly. His teeth tugged at the landing strip above my pussy.
My head crashed back when he planted his wide-open mouth against my over-excited slit.
Keening, I came that first instant. Just that first contact of his tongue and his teeth and his lips totally encompassing my entire cunt.
He gorged on the juice flooding from me, growling, uncontrolled, beastly.
With my legs pinned wide, I could do nothing but rock and writhe and wail.
I could do nothing but look down over my bound body to see the top of his hard-edged face and his thick blond hair and his strong broad shoulders twisting as he licked and sucked and ate me out like I was his last meal on earth.
When he started French kissing my saturated hole—mouth sealed over my labia and a fingertip drumming my clit—another climax joined the first. A starburst of sensation, an overload of an orgasm, a staggering quickening of every nerve in my body.
For moments afterward there was nothing but a white rush of sound.
Then Saint’s husky voice as his fingers trailed from my wet depths to my hard nipples. “Liked that, did you?”
He kissed my center and laved at my labia while I shuddered with aftershocks.
“Please. I want to touch you.” Fingers clenching the stockings holding me in place, I begged. “I need to taste you!”
Rising up from between my legs, he was such a heady sight I could almost come again just from looking at him.
A hard lustful expression painted across his face. And a hard pulsing cock throbbed at his groin.
Liquid heat began filling my veins again when he laid directly on top of me. His dick dragged across my tummy, and he lunged down to part my lips with his. His tongue swept demandingly inside my mouth and left me panting for more when he left.
Prowling off me, he kneeled next to me on the bed, thighs spread and thick shaft standing straight up against his abdomen.
I stared at his strong hand stroking his strong cock, which he then fed down into my mouth like he had in the kit
chen.
Only this time I was completely . . . bound.
The burst of his male flavor on my taste buds made my eyes roll back in my head.
His piercing revolved across my tongue, and I glugged against the girth widening my lips because I wanted more.
I wanted all of him, impossible as that was.
He pulled out, and I kept my mouth open.
He laid a hand on my cheek, thrust inside, and pumped against the side of my mouth. That big fat head took up all empty space, and my saliva gummed around him.
He seemed to like that.
He liked making me make him sloppy and wet.
The flashing look in his darkened eyes only turned me on more.
I wanted Saint to use my mouth for his own pleasure.
He must’ve recognized my wanton willingness because he rose up higher and drove down deeper.
The piercing was a lot to take. Damn, his powerful cock was a lot to take.
My throat began opening, and I moaned against the sweet ache of taking him that far inside . . . echoing the sweet ache of wanting him that far inside my empty clutching pussy.
Chugging air through my nose, I arched my neck to open my throat.
He grunted, nostrils flaring, and reached around to grip the nape of my neck in his palm.
“I kind of wanna choke you on my cock, baby,” he muttered, voice as thick as the dick he plunged into my mouth.
Then he pulled back with a guttural, “Motherfuck.”
His fist rolled up over the saliva-shiny rod, and I nudged the inside of his hard-flexed thigh.
“I can do it again, Saint.” My voice was smoky, raspy, used.
“Mmm,” he rumbled.
Then he levered that fat dick down and drove the meaty pierced length against the back of my mouth and into the beginning of my throat.
His fingers tipped my chin higher. He lifted on his haunches. He flexed down from his groin.
I gurgled and sputtered then swabbed all over the shaft as he dragged back out.
His cock absolutely enormous and slippery, he looked ferocious. “Now we’re gonna fuck.”
He groaned when he rolled the condom over his shaft, then he perched over me like some sort of sexual demon, fiery lust making his piercing eyes glassy.
Lowering himself on top of me, he gave no warning as he speared straight into my quivering pussy.
The delicious sensation of being impaled so mightily while I could hardly move set my nerves ablaze.
I arched my pelvis, clenching around that long intrusion in my sweltering insides.
With a heathenish roar, he pulled back and thrust again. He reamed me open, pumping in harsh strokes that made my neck snap back. Even bound tight and fucked hard, I kept my eyes on the man above me, the man who—with every thrust—pushed me past every limit.
Then he withdrew and jerked my hips as high as they’d go with the rest of my body restrained. On his haunches, he was strong enough to get even more leverage.
I screamed as the pierced tip of his cock plowed the path for the rest of his magnificent shaft.
He fucked me aggressively.
He fucked me possessively.
He fucked me animalistically.
Sometimes he gave short stabs of his thick cock so that piercing hit an unreal pleasure center inside, molding my cunt to fit him. To take him. To clutch and swell around him.
At one point, after my voice had gone hoarse with another body-shattering orgasm, I begged, “Please. God! Untie me, Saint. I want to touch you.”
He plowed into me with another deep soul-shuddering thrust. “Want me to untie you? Fine. But you’re still not gonna touch me.”
Pulling out from me, he moved around the bed. Muscles on his body bulged and teemed with sweat, and he quickly unleashed one wrist then both my ankles.
He flipped me over, angling me across the bed on my hands and knees.
His heavy cock nudged against my soaked slit as he ordered, “Ass up. Head down.”
He yanked me into the position he wanted before smacking one heavy palm down on my bottom.
I squealed then screamed louder when he pounded straight down into my upraised pussy from behind.
His hard hands clamped on my hips, and he went so deep I thought he’d reach my heart. My body splayed and spread and arranged for him to use was so unbelievably hot I burst into another orgasm immediately.
He slapped my ass again. “That’s it. Come on this cock, you sweet bitch.”
Saint’s rough language twisted my pleasure higher. I must’ve slathered cream all over his hard-pumping dick.
Then his thumbs dug into the dimples at the base of my spine, hands spreading my butt just before something hot and wet drizzled down over my bottom.
The unfamiliar sensation shocked me, and I shouted, “Saint!”
His hands moved lower as his cock rocked in and out.
Had that been his sweat or . . .
Then again, another drop of liquid trickled from my crevice and down over my virgin rosebud.
Oh my god. He’d spat on my hole!
“What are you—”
His thumb pressed against the forbidden entrance, and I gasped, rearing up.
He forced me back down with a hand against my upper back, and his voice came out in a rugged tone beside my ear. “This tight little asshole’s makin’ me wanna do naughty things to you, baby. So fuckin’ pretty back here.”
Cock buried to the hilt, he grinded the pierced head against the crazy-making spot inside me.
Then the tip of his thumb slipped into me, and I careened out of control.
Another filthy chuckle fell from his lips. “We’ll save that for another time too.”
Ramping up the speed of his thrusts with his finger sliding in and out of my bottom, he took me to a place I’d never been. I yelled, voice hoarse from crying out as he fucked into me over and over again.
Saint bent me to his will.
His inhuman bellow gave voice to the hot swelling and thick spurting of his cock inside of me.
I only wished the condom wasn’t in the way of him plastering my pussy in cum.
I collapsed onto the bed, and he stroked into me several more times until a huge load must’ve dammed the tip of the condom.
His hands hooked around my shoulders from underneath, and he whispered in a gritty tone, “You are one hot fuck, baby.”
He finally rolled off me after the insane sex marathon. I ended up half on top of him, my head on his chest.
We were hot and sweaty. I was thoroughly fucked and lazy.
Our pulses slowed, and his hand swept up and down from my tangled hair to my lower spine.
I moved into his languorous touch like a cat preening for attention, and I felt the low thunder of his chuckle beneath my cheek.
“What did you think of the baby?” I asked, brushing my fingers over the colorful tats on his shoulder.
“Little Miss Haven?” Peering down at me, he smiled in a way that was utterly breathtaking. “What’s not to like?”
“She certainly was precious.”
“Yeah. Grace and Slade sure done good.” Saint shifted us so we lay side by side. “Seems to me us men get the easy end of things compared to you women though.”
“Same thing with the ass sex, Saint.”
He propped up on an elbow, his large palm cupping and squeezing my rear end. “Pretty sure I could make you like it. Just like this.” He flicked at the last article of bondage, the black stocking tied around my wrist.
“By the way, are you going to finish untying me?”
Squinting at me first, he then full-on leered. “Don’t think so. Just makin’ sure you don’t run away from me while we sleep.”
I laughed with him, and we kissed. The sort of hot slow melty kiss that was the perfect way to end a night of tempestuous lovemaking.
I could’ve easily untied myself, but I went with it. I simply rolled over as Saint arranged a light sheet on top of us. Then he spoon
ed me from behind, warming me with the heat of his body and making me feel safer than I could ever remember.
I barely registered it when he flicked off the last remaining light, slumber falling over me like a weightless feather and his breath tickling the nape of my neck.
****
The first thing I felt when the front door banged open then shut was Saint’s palm cradling one of my breasts.
The front door . . . oh shit!
Morning sunlight streamed into my bedroom, and I was on instant high alert. We’d fallen completely asleep, and I didn’t even know what time it was.
I struggled to shove Saint’s leg off mine, and he mumbled before slitting his eyes open.
“Was that the door I heard?” he asked sleepily.
“Yes!” I had both feet off the bed in an instant.
“MJ home?” Rolling out from under the sheet, he started putting his jeans on. “Think I’ll just go out and say g’morning.”
I scrabbled with the stocking binding my wrist to the bed. “Oh god. Don’t do that! Just get me out of this.”
“All right. All right. Wasn’t gonna embarrass you or anything.”
He undid the final restraint, frowning at me.
I hurried into my robe and tied the sash tight.
“Stay put,” I hissed in a low warning tone.
Rushing from the room, I quietly shut the door.
This was worst case scenario—what I never wanted to happen. How could I have been so foolish?
“Caleb, honey, is that you?”
Padding quickly down the hall, I was met by a bundle of boy who wrapped himself around me like a many-tentacled octopus.
I rained kisses all over his face even though my heart jackrabbited in my chest.
Then I stopped breathing altogether when Caleb peeped beyond my shoulder and asked with wide-eyed wonder, “Mommy, who’s that man?”
Chapter Fifteen
SAINT
I’D BEEN ROUSED FROM sleep—and a sexy, seriously hot dream of Honoré—by the woman herself practically throwing my leg off her after the front door crashed open then closed.
