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“Says the girl who just had a screaming orgasm in the kitchen.”

She grinned and let her eyes travel down to his very hard, very obvious erection. “You going to be okay?”

“Keep grinning, smartass,” he teased. “You’ll learn how dangerous it is to goad your dom.”

He left for a few minutes to gather his supplies, and when he came back, she learned the threat hadn’t been an idle one. He made her kneel on the bed, thighs spread, and strapped a small vibrator against her clit to keep her occupied while he worked. He dialed it to the setting that had to be called Slow Ride to Hell because it was low and slow and made her want to die with need after about ten minutes.

Meanwhile, he was wrapping soft ropes around her torso in an intricate looping pattern. He had a wrinkle in his forehead while he worked and a look in his eye that told her this was a meditative act for him. But his erection didn’t flag the entire time—so not just meditative but deeply sexual. And she could understand why. The pressure of the ropes against her body and the way they gently abraded her skin had her seeing the eroticism in it.

With that new sensual experience and the torturous pace of the vibrator she was near out of her mind by the time he cinched the last knot. It was like her body had completely forgotten about the previous orgasm. Like it no longer counted. She needed his touch.

Colby pulled the vibrator away and stepped back to admire his work, giving her a look that almost sent her over the edge. Pure, unabashed lust. “You look amazing, Georgia. I can’t even describe it.” He opened a nearby closet door and angled the mirror inside the door her way. “Look at yourself.”

The reflection stunned her for a second. She could barely comprehend that it was her image looking back at her. Colby had wound the rope into a corset, tightly coiled around her torso and two rings of rope above her breasts, leaving everything else on naked display. Her hips flared in a pleasing heart shape out from under the bottom circle of rope, and her breasts stood proud in the space between the ropes. It was utterly obscene. She loved it.

She touched the ropes over her belly, the intricate looping he’d done to get everything snug but not painful. “This is an art, Colby.”

“You’re the art,” he said, moving to the side of the bed again and palming one of her breasts. “You’re lucky I’m having a lapse in self-control tonight because the sadistic side of me kind of wants to lie back and watch you get to the brink with that vibrator over and over until you’re sweating and begging for me. I could look at you all night.”

He pinched her nipple between his fingertips and she gasped. “I’m already sweating and if you want me to beg, I left my pride somewhere in the kitchen, so not a problem.”

His dimple appeared beneath the shadow of his beard. “I’m not looking to steal your pride, beautiful. Just a little bit of your sanity for a few minutes.”

“Ha. That’s already gone, so if you find it, let me know.”

“Hush,” he said, giving her a quick kiss and reaching between her thighs to stroke her for a few maddening seconds. “Stay on your knees and get to the middle of the bed. I’m not quite done with the rope.”

All snappy comebacks faded from her thoughts as his fingers brought her right to the precipice of orgasm again before he pulled back. She wanted to grab his wrist and force his hand to stay there, but he was already out of her reach. She crawled to the middle of the bed and settled into position, her heartbeat officially relocating to the spot right behind her clit—throbbing, throbbing, throbbing.

Colby took his time wrapping her forearms in rope, leaving her with what looked like the western version of superhero cuffs, and then he drew her down onto her elbows and took the long ends of the rope to secure her to the headboard. She tugged on the restraints and they didn’t give. A little flutter of panic went through her.

“Anything feel too tight?” he asked, checking the bindings at her wrist.

“What if I need to get out quickly? Like if it’s an emergency?”

All of a sudden she was picturing the house catching on fire or the intense need to pee or a spider crawling onto the bed. It was all ridiculous but something about being tied to the bed had pushed her fear button.

“I’ve got you,” he said, rubbing a thumb over her knuckles. “There’s a switchblade in the bedside drawer that will slice right through this rope. You say the word and you’re out in less than thirty seconds.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Hey, look at me,” he said, cupping her chin and tilting her face toward him. His eyes met hers with unwavering sincerity. “Your safety is always going to be my number one priority. Always. No matter what, I’m looking out for you.”

The words were spoken with utter confidence, and that confidence washed over her, filling the spaces where the fear was trying to dig roots. “Thank you.”

She breathed out the rest of the nerves that had tried to crop up and closed her eyes as he moved behind her. She could hear clothes coming off, and she couldn’t resist. She peeked back over her shoulder. Colby had just kicked off his jeans, and he stood there in his full naked glory. Broad and built and big all over. He looked like a beast. Or sculpture. Or every fantasy she’d ever conjured. It almost wasn’t fair.

He smiled when he caught her gawking. “I feel the same way when I look at you, Georgia. All that pretty flesh, those gorgeous curves. I want to put you on the dinner table and eat you bite by bite.”

Yep. That was exactly how she felt. He was fucking edible.

“In fact,” he said, climbing onto the bed behind her, “I don’t think I can resist a taste right now.”

He palmed her ass and angled her hips up, putting a sway in her back and exposing every private part of her for his perusal. She could feel his breath caressing her, his mouth getting closer, and then his hot tongue was on her and she lost what little calm she had left.

Colby was as talented with his mouth as he was with his hands, and soon she was yanking back on the ropes, having a hard time keeping still. He knew exactly how to keep her riding the edge, on the verge of orgasm but not reaching it. She whimpered into the sheets and banged her forehead into the mattress. Please, please, please.

“God, you taste good,” he said, in between driving her out of her mind and making her want to harm him. “And you’re so hot against my tongue. I can feel how close you are.”


Tags: Roni Loren Loving on the Edge Erotic