“Easy,” she said. “We haven’t gotten to the kinky part yet.”
What?
A bead pressed against his never-before-penetrated asshole, and with a little manipulation and persistence, she used two fingertips to work it inside him.
It was official. Dawn O’Reilly was far kinkier than he had ever aspired to be.
“Wait.” He gasped brokenly as she pushed a second bead inside him.
“One more,” she whispered, rubbing the third bead around his hole.
God, he wanted it.
“Okay,” he said.
When she popped it into his ass, his entire body jolted and began to quiver uncontrollably. He could feel the beads inside him, foreign and invasive. Dawn pressed a hand against the underside of his cock, which tightened the rope to rub against the seam of his balls and simultaneously tug at the beads in his ass. One almost popped free—almost—but she shifted his cock down and his body tugged it right back inside.
“Fuck me,” he swore as pleasure sensors he never knew existed ignited. He was pretty sure he was coming, but the binding wrapped around his overstimulated cock wouldn’t allow him to erupt.
“I’m not sure this next part will work,” she said, “but I’m going to try.”
There was more? How could there possibly be more?
Gasping and caught in an endless orgasm, Kellen tried to puzzle through Dawn’s drenching his encased cock with lube. Then she straddled him, taking a moment to find places for her legs among his bound appendages and the ropes. With a hand between their bodies, she took his now slippery, still-tied cock into her hand and pressed it into her hot pussy. If he hadn’t been coming before, he was definitely coming now. Due to the ropes, she was forced to lean forward until their bellies touched as she rode him. That position happened to stretch taut the rope tying his cock to his ass. Each motion of her body threatened to pop a bead free, but it held and held and held. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Was it possible to die from pleasure?
“Oh. Oh yes,” Dawn cried, riding him faster, harder. “This feels amazing.”
He’d have agreed if he could remember how to speak.
He wasn’t even sure what she was doing any longer. He could only concentrate on physical sensation. Most of it was pleasure, but some pain, a bit of friction and tugging and release and being held back from that same release. And God he was hot and shaking and had the shivers and goosebumps. Every muscle in his body was tight. His mind was free of all thought. And . . . fuck, he was surely dying.
He wasn’t sure when she finished, but suddenly she wasn’t on top of him any longer. The beads in his ass were yanked free, each releasing a burst of ecstasy. Kellen cried out as he came again, or had he ever stopped coming? The tightness around his cock loosened, and then a firm hand circled his bare cock and tugged and tugged and tugged, pulling every drop of cum from his body. Finally, relief. Blessed release. And it had never felt so good in his life.
He didn’t even realize words were erupting from his mouth until the hand went still and Dawn said, “Owen?” She slapped him hard on his belly. “Did you really just call his name?”
What?
Chapter Eight
While Dawn had been orchestrating one of the most exhilarating and liberating sexual experiences of her rather sheltered life, her partner had been fantasizing about another person. A man! Now wasn’t that just perfect? She should have known things were going too well between her and Kellen. She was pretty sure he was on the right track with moving past Sara, but instead of focusing his newly freed devotion on Dawn, he’d instead diverted it to Owen.
“I didn’t really call Owen’s name, did I?” Kellen said in a voice so low and quiet, she scarcely heard him over the roar of the blood rushing through her head.
“Yeah. Several times.” She repeated his words, now likely scored into her memory for the rest of her life. “Oh yes, Owen. Make me come. Owen. Owen!”
He burst out laughing, and she wasn’t sure if it was a nervous reaction or if he actually thought it was funny to call his best friend’s name while she’d been stroking his cock. Hell, she’d been concerned that his angry-looking dick wouldn’t survive the force of his ejaculation, and he hadn’t even been thinking about the person actually responsible for that orgasm.
“That’s just perfect,” he muttered when his laughter died down.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” she said, sinking down beside him on the bed. She considered running off and leaving him to waste away tied up on her bed, but she liked this guy. Really liked him. And if he was secretly having an affair with a man, she’d be devastated. She silently prayed that there was another reason behind his slipup. In the throes of ecstasy she’d once called her lover by her long-time crush’s name, not because she’d actually wanted to be with Pierre but because she’d been fantasizing about him while her bore-in-the-sack boyfriend was making love to her.
Oh shit.
“Are you and Owen lovers?”
“Of course not,” he said.
“Of course not? That’s your response?”
He released a forlorn sigh. “Untie me, and I’ll explain.”
“Explain and then I’ll untie you.” She figured if she untied him, he’d rush off and she’d never get a decent answer out of him.
“I think I’m mixed up because I’ve only ever been tied up by one person. And it happened to be a man.”
“Owen tied you up?” He’d already told her about Toshi, the man who’d taught him Shibari, but then that would mean two different men had tied him, so that didn’t make sense. But he’d clearly been thinking of Owen, not Toshi.
“No. Owen’s never tied me, but I have tied him.”
“Did you take advantage of him when he was defenseless?”
“No.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Maybe. I don’t know. I just touched him. But we’ve been jacking each other off for years, so it doesn’t mean anything.”
Of course that meant something. Was he really that dumb or just in denial?
Dawn’s tongue felt thick in her mouth. She couldn’t even close her jaw. “What?”
“After Sara died, I needed relief, and sometimes Owen helped me out with a little handy. It was only fair that I helped him out too, right?”
Dawn’s head was shaking, but she wasn’t doing it consciously. She was so shocked by what he was saying—shocked that he didn’t see the deeper issue—that her body was on autopilot. And her thoughts were in hyperdrive.
“That’s not something friends do,” she said.
“I know that. I’ve always struggled mentally with the physical part of our relationship, but it feels so good. It’s the only real form of sexual release I’ve had until just recently.” His fingers twitched, and had he been untied, she was certain he’d be reaching for her. “Please don’t let this come between us. I’m not sure I can take another heartbreak.”
“I’m not letting anything come between us,” she said, her disbelief rapidly turning to rage. Was he really trying to place blame on her for the sudden and unexpected differences between them? She would not put up with that sort of bullshit. “You’re the one fantasizing about your best friend while you’re coming.”
“Your grip was so solid, so firm, I guess I lost track of who was touching me.”
“You are not putting any blame on me for this, Kellen Jamison. I won’t let you.”
He sighed but didn’t drop his gaze. His eyes bored into hers until she had no choice but to believe him. To trust him.
“I don’t blame you, sunshine. And I don’t want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you.”
“But if you want him, that will hurt me, if not now, then at some point in the future.”
“I don’t want him.”
She could see the sincerity in his dark eyes. His honesty and frankness were two of his most appealing traits. But some part of her couldn’t believe him. She didn’t doubt that Kellen believed that he didn’t want Owen, but greater convictions than sexual
fantasies had been built upon false theories.
“Then what is it?” She rubbed a hand up her chilled arm. “I still don’t understand.”
He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting to the ceiling. “It’s being tied. It makes me crave the touch of a man.” His intense gaze met hers again, and his passion for life, for her, blazed fiercely in his eyes. “Do you think I want to feel that way when the most gorgeous woman in existence is giving me more pleasure than I can handle? You are amazing, Dawn. Everything about you is amazing. And I’m sorry. For everything I’ve ever done that has hurt you, I’m sorry.”
He was sorry? What good did that do? Frustrated and more hurt than she cared to admit, she climbed from the bed and slipped her free-flowing sundress over her head. She then cut the ropes off his right wrist with the scissors and left him there to free himself. She wasn’t disgusted by his fantasies; she thought they were downright sexy. But if Kellen was actually in love with Owen and simply didn’t realize it, she didn’t stand a chance at holding Kellen’s attention. The two men had a long history of friendship and support. Hell, they basically shared a life. Being on the road together for their careers, spending all their at-home free time together, being cared for by the same family made them more like a couple than most couples in her book. The only parts of couplehood they didn’t share were sex and romantic love. Or so she’d thought. They had apparently shared some sex—maybe not full out dick-in-ass gay sex, but still . . . It seemed likely that their next step was romantic love.
Not knowing how she’d even gotten outside, Dawn stirred up sand as she scrambled over the dunes to the beach. Maybe she should just drown herself; then she wouldn’t have to sort through the jumble of her thoughts and emotions.
Why did the most alluring man she’d ever met have to be so fucking complicated? She kicked at the sand in her path, hoping her feet knew where to take her, because her head and her heart were obviously leading her in the wrong direction.
“Dawn!” Kellen’s voice carried across the dunes. “Please. I really need to talk about this.”
He needed to talk about this? Just like he needed help getting over Sara. Just like he needed to tie her up in order to fuck her. Yeah? Well, what about what she needed?
“Don’t follow me!” she yelled, not knowing if he were even attempting to do so. She couldn’t see where she was going through the unwanted tears blurring her vision. She didn’t realize how close she was to the water until a warm wave washed over her bare feet.
Something squished beneath her toes, and stinging pain wrapped around her ankle and shot up her leg. She cried out and tumbled onto the beach, ripping the offensive jellyfish tentacle from her smarting flesh and tossing the vile creature back into the water. Tears of anguish mingled with those of emotional turmoil, and she wrapped her arms around her shin, wanting to coddle her wound but afraid to actually touch it.
Kellen’s bare feet appeared in her line of sight. Yeah, she was so infatuated with the man that she recognized his goddamned feet.
He squatted in front of her and captured her upper arms between his hands, but she refused to look at him.
“Are you okay? Did it sting you?”
“Yeah, it stung me.” Stupid jellyfish. But the squishy creature’s tentacles stung a lot less than playing second fiddle to Owen for Kellen’s affection. Make that third fiddle. Freaking Sara had claimed first chair.
“Hold still,” he said. “I’ll pee on it.”
She blinked up at him. “What?”
“It’ll take the sting out. I read it online.”
“You are not pissing on my leg!”
“I’m just trying to help you.”
His gorgeous brown eyes were filled with concern, but his expression didn’t weaken her resolve.
“By peeing on me? Are you crazy?”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and within seconds they were laughing. It felt so much better to laugh with him—even if it was at her expense—than to cry over him.
“I think that’s an old wives’ tale anyway,” he said. “Do you have any vinegar at your house?”
“I might. I’m not sure.”
“Baking soda, then?”
She smiled. “You’re asking me, the stress baker, if I have baking soda?”
“Good point. Can you stand?”
“It’s a jellyfish sting,” she said, still feeling testy, “not a broken ankle.”
She pushed him aside and got to her feet, taking what she intended to be a confident step. The pain in her skin where the tentacle had wrapped around her ankle made her calf muscle seize up, so she stumbled despite her valiant effort not to look like a total wimp.
“I’ll carry you.”
“I don’t need you to carry me,” she insisted, limping several paces before she stepped on a very sharp seashell. “Ow!”
“Don’t you get that this isn’t about what you need, but rather what I want?”
She turned to look at him, not sure if he was referring to her proclivity for injury or if there was a deeper meaning behind his words.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, settling his hands on his hips and looking—with the sun kissing his bronze skin and the waves churning behind him—very much like the god of the ocean she’d taken him for at their first meeting
“Like what?”
“Like I can’t take the criticism I have coming.”
Had she been looking at him like that?
“I do get how selfish I’ve been acting, concentrating on what I want at the expense of your needs.”
It was a rare man who would recognize such behavior in himself. In her mind, that made him worth the hassle and heartache she experienced along the way. “You have a reason to be selfish. This is hard for you.”
“Dawn, stop making excuses for me. I make enough of them for myself.” He rubbed a hand over his face and murmured under his breath, “I’ve told her to run from me how many times? And the first time she does, I immediately chase after her.”
“Are you talking to yourself?”
His eyes flicked upward to meet hers. “Did I say that aloud?”
She nodded, a little smile curving her lips. “I’m glad you chased after me.”
“Would you have stopped running? If the jellyfish hadn’t stung you?”
Her ankle throbbed at the mention of her injury. Only a few of the jellyfish’s tentacles had wrapped around her ankle. It could have been far worse.
“Did you command that creature of the deep to attack me, Neptune, so that I’d stop?”
“I’d never command one of my charges to harm you, sunshine,” he said, running a knuckle down the bridge of her nose and gently flicking its tip. “Let’s get you home so I can concentrate on fixing your hurts.”
She smiled weakly, knowing her little physical ailments didn’t cut nearly as deep as his emotional wounds. But with the right care, she believed they could heal each other.
Chapter Nine
Kellen could not believe that he’d called Owen’s name while he’d been coming. It was one thing to fantasize while you were getting off, quite another to blurt out your fantasy to your partner. He’d hurt Dawn. He knew he had. He could see it in the way her pretty hazel eyes never quite met his as he consulted the Internet with his phone for the proper treatment of a jellyfish sting. Several red stripes marred her trim ankle. If she hadn’t already tossed that gross sea creature back into the ocean, he would have pulverized it for causing her pain. Just as he was mentally pulverizing himself for the same reason.
He flushed the reddened area of her sting with salt water—which he could have done on the beach had he known what he was doing—and then used the edge of her driver’s license to scrape out stingers the jellyfish had left behind. The harsh lines on her skin were becoming welts, and though she only occasionally sucked breath through her teeth as he worked at his internet-directed first aid, they had to hurt far more than she was letting on.
“I didn’t know you wore g
lasses,” he said, grinning at how cute she looked in them in her driver’s license photo.
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