“No. How can you ask me that?” he replied harshly. “I want to have you. Completely. I’ve told you before, that’s what turns me on. Not pain.”
“You’ll keep me safe?”
“Always,” he replied, his gaze growing extra fierce.
“Then, yes.”
He immediately released her and stood next to the bed. She almost turned to watch what he was doing, but realized she could see his reflection in the mirror over the chest of drawers as he crossed the bedroom. He opened what she assumed was a closet door and went inside. When he appeared again, she saw what he carried. Her thighs closed and tightened to alleviate the spike of arousal that went through her. In one hand, he carried a long metal rod; in the other was a bundle of black rope.
Her breathing had grown choppy from arousal by the time he stood next to the bed again, blocking her view in the mirror. Not that she needed the mirror to notice the heavy bulge at the front of his shorts as he leaned the spreader bar on the far side of the bedside table. On top of the table, he set down what appeared to be a package of—she strained to see—antiseptic towelettes? He turned toward her with the rope in hand.
“You can stay just like that, but pull your knees up under you, bottom in the air,” he directed, staring down at her.
Harper took the position, bending her knees beneath her, her breasts pressed against the mattress, her arms stretched above her head, one cheek turned into a pillow . . . ass in the air.
“That’s good,” he muttered thickly. “Wrists together, palms inward.”
He put a knee on the edge of the mattress and leaned down, binding her wrists and forearms with several loops of the black silk rope. His body was just inches away from her face while he restrained her, his cock right in her field of vision. She felt that familiar, forbidden sense of anticipation building in her. From the size and apparent weight of his erection, she wasn’t alone in her sharp arousal.
He lifted his knee off the mattress and stood again, opening a bedside table. She watched him as he withdrew both a bottle of lubricant and a box.
“It’s new,” he said quietly as he tore his thumb through the plastic and opened the box. He withdrew a black dildo. It was slender, about six inches long with a thick base. Its shape was realistically cock-like.
“Do you ever use one of these?” he asked her. Something about the way he held it up for her inspection made her thighs tighten to alleviate a stab of arousal.
“No. I have a vibrator, but . . . no. Not one of those.”
He picked up the lubricant.
It was pure erotic torture, watching him smooth the shiny lube onto the dildo with his fingers while she watched, her arms restrained above her head.
Her ass in the air.
Finally he set down the bottle of lubricant and came onto the mattress behind her. He positioned himself on his knees next to her bottom. His body was on the opposite side of hers—and the mirror. Heat scorched her cheeks when she realized she could see everything clearly in the reflection. He held the lubricated dildo in his left hand and stared down at her, his expression grim.
“Raise your ass some, Harper.”
She bit her lower lip and rose on her haunches, lifting her ass higher in the air. He reached with his right hand, and she realized his fingers were still glossy from the lubricant. With no buildup, he buried his fingers in the crack of her ass and rubbed a fingertip against her asshole.
She jumped.
“I know it probably feels strange, but try not to resist it. It’ll make things harder on you, if you do.” He pressed his fingertip tighter against her. “Push back against me. It’ll go in easier that way.”
She bit her lower lip and applied a firm pressure against his finger. He slid into her ass. She moaned.
“That’s right,” he murmured.
He began to fuck her with his finger. At first, Harper was overwhelmed with a strange combination of shame and arousal. She could see him in the mirror, watching himself as he penetrated her ass firmly with his forefinger, his face rigid. She clenched her eyelids shut. No sooner had she done it, however, than she craved the image of him again. Even in this, she found him compelling. Maybe especially in this. He pumped his hand faster, a snarl shaping his mouth. His opened his hand and gently slapped her curving buttocks every time he penetrated her with his finger.
She groaned. His gaze flickered up. For an electric moment, their gazes met in the mirror. Holding her stare, he opened his hand and pressed it against her ass cheeks, his finger sunk deep inside her.
“I’m glad you’re a virgin,” he said quietly. “Not only because it’s going to feel so fucking good inside you. I’m glad because I’m the one.” He squeezed her buttocks in his hand and pressed again, sending his finger higher inside her. A small smile flickered over his hard mouth. “Does that make me selfish?”
“No,” she gasped. A subtle trembling had started in her body. “Because I’m glad, too.”
He groaned roughly, pressing tighter with his finger, plumping her cheeks in his palm. Then he withdrew, and this time he pressed two fingers against her.
“Press back.”