“Shh,” he whispered gruffly at the same time he used one hand to explore the back of her right thigh. He ran the fingertips of his other hand between her buttocks in a brushing caress that hardly calmed her. He tickled and stroked the sensitive skin behind her knee and repeated the quick, elusive caress down the crack between her buttocks. She tightened her ass muscles and ground her pussy against the mattress.
“Okay, okay,” he said soothingly.
She felt the mattress shift around her and thought he must have come down on his hands and knees over her. She saw him reach above her. Joy jerked her chin up, desperate for information about what he was doing. The way she was restrained, her head was a foot below the bedside table. She went still when she saw what he grabbed. It was a bottle of lubricant.
She opened her mouth to protest. It wasn’t as if she was completely unfamiliar with anal play, but she’d never experienced it before while she was lying in a prone position, restrained and utterly, completely vulnerable. Her words stalled in her throat when she heard the click of the flip top on the lubricant bottle. Her vagina clenched tight in arousal.
“Everett,” she said. “I don’t think—”
“Don’t think,” he said starkly. “Just feel.”
“But—”
“It’s just sex, Joy,” he said. “Isn’t that what you told me on the dock?”
She panted through lips that felt swollen from sustained arousal. He didn’t wait for her answer, but pressed one of the now lubricated vibrators to her anus, where it buzzed warmly.
“Push back against it,” he said quietly.
Joy did, gasping when the silicone sheath penetrated her. She just stared blankly at the opened door to the bedroom, seeing nothing, just feeling the erotic vibrations pulse in her anus, enlivening nerves she didn’t even know she possessed. He’d removed the vibrator from his finger, she realized, and was pushing the little device about an inch into her anus.
“How’s that feel?” he asked, his voice sounding subdued an
d rough.
“I . . . I . . . good,” she admitted, unable to say anything but the truth, she was so overwhelmed.
“Good,” he grunted. “You have an amazing ass,” he said at the same time he cupped one of her cheeks, his fingertips sliding toward her sex.
“Oh, no,” she exclaimed loudly when he slid one of the vibrators into her spread pussy.
“Oh, yeah,” he refuted thickly at the same moment that he pressed one of his vibrating fingertips against her clit. Joy knew it was just pleasantly warm, but to her it felt like being touched by a red-hot poker. For a few seconds, she just keened desperately while nerves sizzled in her anus, sex and clitoris, sending jolts of sensation up her spine. She couldn’t stop the tsunami of sensation when it rolled over her. She fisted the straps that restrained her, her fingernails biting into her palms, and detonated.
Her lungs heaved for air in the aftermath. She wasn’t sure when Everett had removed those instruments of agonizing pleasure, but as she struggled for air, she became aware of him touching her with naked fingers. He stroked her from hip to waist, his large, open hand seeming to shout a message of how much power he held over her, a scream inside her head that if he did hold the reins over her frantically pounding heart, it was Joy’s own fault for giving him that power . . .
. . . her own fault for being helpless to halt her surrender to his touch.
“You’re so beautiful,” she heard him murmur as his open hand caressed the side of her body and she quivered like a live wire. “You shine so brightly in my eyes.”
She clamped her eyes shut and felt a burn behind the lids.
“Say it’s just sex now, Joy.”
Anger flickered into the swirl of her satiation.
Was it anger? Or was it fear?
“Your silence is a dare. Don’t dare me,” he said, his voice deceptively soft.
She clenched her eyes shut tighter. Her anguish had lowered to her throat, tightening it. It was like a hand squeezed it, halting the brewing volcano of emotion in her chest. She felt as if his touch were putting her in direct contact with life—with joy and laughter and light and passion unlike anything she’d ever known or dreamt.
She hated him for making her feel this much.
She turned her face into the mattress, hiding her anguished longing.
The mattress shifted beneath her as Everett moved. She held her breath, hearing the subtle sounds of him disrobing—the rustle of fabric, the metallic sound of the buttons on his fly being tugged through the holes. The mattress sank again as he came back onto the bed.
“I’m going to fuck you here,” he said, gently palming her ass, his fingertips just beneath the cheeks, the heel of his palm just below her tailbone. She held her breath, waiting for his next gruffly spoken words like her life depended on them. “I know how raw that is. I know how intimate it is—at least it will be for me, Joy. I want you to know that. If you don’t want it, just say the word right now.”