His hand disappears once again, and I’m fighting the feeling of disappointment, when I hear him murmur, “Mmm, you’re even sweeter than you look.”
My entire body alights with heat, knowing he placed those arousal-covered digits into his mouth to taste me. I suck in a breath when his now slick finger plunges inside me with no preamble, and I feel my pussy grip it in response. He wastes no time going right for that sweet spot inside me, swiveling the pad of his finger and curling it in a way that makes me see stars behind the blindfold. Every touch is enhanced by being unable to see anything behind the cloth, and unfortunately, every touch is nothing but pleasure-filled.
I should be fighting. I should be twisting and turning and clawing my way out of my restraints, but instead, I let out a long moan, my knees spreading wider to give his big hand better access. My hips even begin to move on instinct, grinding against my captor’s knuckles for friction against my clit, and when he adds a second finger, the breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh, and my abs clench, but the cuffs holding my wrists keep me from sitting up much.
There’s nothing I can do. My body has completely turned against me. Even though I know I should hate this, I should be trying to make him stop with all my might, my inner muscles have other ideas. Like spasming around those thick fingers, almost as if they’re trying to suck them deeper into my pussy. And then this man presses his thumb against my clit, massaging it diagonally back and forth like only one man knows sets me off every time, and I come with a mewling squeal, my head thrashing as he continues with his ministrations, making my wetness shoot out in a hot stream that makes obscene noises as he continues to pump in and out of me.
“Fuuuck, goddess. You soaked my hand… your creamy thighs… the whole goddamn table. As much as I wanted to, I can’t play any longer. I need to bury my cock inside you,” he growls, and my body becomes one with the puddle beneath me.
Chapter Five
It’s the use of the nickname he always calls me that lets me know we’re no longer in the scene. And while I’d normally feel a twinge of embarrassment over the fact that I just squirted all over the damn place, I can’t seem to care as my husband removes my blindfold, and I see his devastatingly handsome and fiercely aroused face.
He looks primal in this moment, almost animalistic he’s so turned on, like he wants to devour me, and that makes any ounce of shame leave me. It takes only a moment for him to undo my restraints, and in a move that surprises not only him but myself, I roll off the padded table in our dim playroom and grip his arm. There’s no way I could move Neil on my own; he’s huge, well over six feet and solid muscle. But he lets me tug him where I want—propped against the side of the table where I was lying before, while I make quick work of undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, not stopping as I reach his belt… button… fly. I squat down, a woman possessed, as I unlace his dress shoes, sliding them and his socks off his manly feet. I look up into his laser-blue eyes as I reach up to grip the waistband of his dark jeans and his white boxer briefs beneath them, tugging them both down at once, and watch as he steps out of them.
I stand before my irresistible husband, taking in the rippled muscles of his abdomen, the slabs of granite for pecs, and I all but give a feminine growl as I reach for the collar of his shirt and tug him down to reach my lips. He lets me be bossy in my movements, allows me to take exactly what I want as I crash my mouth against his, kissing my man for the first time since he left for work this morning.
With a press of my palm to the center of his chest, he lies back on the padded table, wrapping his arms around me and taking me with him. My knees split so I can straddle him, pressing into the cushion on either side of his hips, and I break our kiss to sit up and look down into his piercing gaze the color of the ocean in the tropics. “I’m sorry I suck at roleplaying, Viking. No matter how hard I tried to get into character, my body just knows you. Knows your touch, your scent—hell, just your very presence.”
A look of pure love filters into the savage desire still present in his eyes, and my tummy flutters like it always has and most definitely always will. “This was your fantasy, goddess. Your wish was my command. You don’t have to apologize to me,” he says, and I give him a shy smile.