Chapter 19
Cori
Grant was everywhere. His body was over mine, completely overwhelming, even more so because I couldn’t move.
“Are you with me?”
I processed the words, and at the same time, I couldn’t fully hear them. My mind was distracted by the scratch of the rope on my wrists and ankles, the further feeling of being pinned down by his weight, the taste of him still on my tongue, and the fact that he’d just told me that he was going to fuck me and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
Something about hearing that—even knowing that he would stop instantly if I asked him to—opened up my mind so I felt like I was falling through space. Floating. Flying, even though I couldn’t move an inch.
This was what I’d wanted. So much better than the fantasy. The safety and comfort of knowing that I wasn’t crazy or wrong to want the feeling of belonging to someone else for a while. I didn’t have to worry about what to do, because there wasn’t anything for me to do but feel and listen.
My whole body shuddered, reacting to the heat and pressure of him even before my mind fully did. I pulled on the ropes, not because I wanted to escape, but because even though it felt strange and wrong, I loved the feeling of knowing that I couldn’t.
“Cori.” Grant’s mouth was at my ear. “I need you to talk to me, sweetheart.”
I was too far out of my head for words. What did words matter when things felt this good? I searched for them, tried to find my voice, and barely caught it long enough to speak. “I’m good.”
He laughed softly, and his mouth brushed across mine. “Glad to hear that. Because you’re fucking gorgeous all spread out for me.”
Heat rolled through my body—made me wet. The way his words hit me in the gut was impossible. They made everything bigger. More intense.
Grant lifted off me, and I opened my eyes to see him rolling on a condom. He was beautiful. I loved the cut angles of his body and the worn places. The scars. He was just Grant, and I didn’t ever want to stop looking at him. But I would definitely let him blindfold me next time.
The idea that he could tease me and I wouldn’t know where he was going to touch next made me shiver in the best way possible.
Fingers brushed under the ropes at my ankles. “That tickles,” I said, a small laugh bubbling up from the misty perfection that was clouding my mind.
“Have to make sure the ropes aren’t hurting you.”
“They could never hurt me,” I said. “They feel too good for that.”
Grant swore before his mouth crashed down on mine. Deep, possessive, and merciless, this kiss was. It wasn’t the gentle easing into being bound. This was taking what he needed and wanted, and I loved that. Because I trusted him to give us what we both needed.
That dream—the vague image of being tied like this—flashed into my head. Nothing compared to the true reality of this.
I felt him at my entrance, easing in, and I moaned into this kiss. Holy shit. It didn’t matter that we’d only been together once before. Having Grant inside me felt like coming home. He filled me up that much tighter because I couldn’t move to help him or shift positions. Every time I remembered that I couldn’t move, a rushing sensation washed over me that was too big to contain. It made me squirm and writhe and wordlessly beg for more of what he was already giving me.
“Fuck,” he said under his breath when he slid home. All the way. His lips were against mine as he spoke. “Do you feel that? You’re all mine. Tied right where I want you and impaled on my cock.”
I couldn’t even form a thought in response. Grant pulled back and slammed home again.
I chanted his name like a prayer every time he thrust until the words no longer had any meaning and were just the sounds I was making because of the pleasure flowing through me in waves.
Higher. They carried me higher and higher still until I was crashing over a peak and tumbling down into an orgasm that was sharp and deep, intensified by the fact that I couldn’t move. I was shuddering on Grant’s cock. Moaning and arching. Nothing I did was a choice. I was my rawest self, stripped away from everything because I didn’t have those choices, and it was perfect.
“Hmm,” he said with a smile. “I think we can do better than that.”
Still inside me, Grant knelt between my thighs and reached for more rope. I felt the strands wrap around my thighs before he slipped out of me and started untying my ankles. “No,” I said quietly. Not yet. I didn’t want it to be over.
The sensual chuckle shivered over my skin and made everything tighten and tingle. My nipples hardened all over again, and my eyes fluttered closed. I couldn’t seem to keep them open.
“I’m not finished with you yet, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. I loved that. So much better than “babe.” There was something tender about it. Hell, there was tenderness in every touch and every question that Grant asked. In the way he made sure that I knew and understood everything before crossing any lines.
Emotion bubbled up in my chest, and I took a long breath. I was still floating in that delicious place, but everything was so close to the surface. I didn’t want to cry—I wasn’t someone who cried during sex—but if I did, they would be good tears right now.
Grant released my ankles and ran his hands over them, rotating them and massaging them briefly before moving. The ropes on my thighs were suddenly tight, and one at a time, he lifted my legs so they were high, open, and wouldn’t come down. “Oh.”
The bed dipped as he knelt in front of me again, palms skimming my inner thighs before stopping just short of where I wanted him. I wiggled, trying to get closer, and couldn’t.
“Much better,” Grant said, locking eyes with me. “You’re just a feast for me now.”
He meant it. His mouth was on me again. Again. Grant was so good at this, and every time he rolled his tongue over me and groaned like I was the best thing he’d ever tasted, I flushed hot with arousal. Which just made him lick deeper. I’d never been with anyone who enjoyed this. But Grant was pressing my already-spread thighs even tighter against the ropes so he could absolutely ravish me with lips and teeth and tongue. Well and truly fuck me with his mouth.
I was shaking against the bonds, so close to coming again that I couldn’t breathe. I whined when he pulled away, so far past words that it was all I had. “This is where, another time, I would tell you that you didn’t have permission to come unless I gave it to you,” he said.
I felt the strain of that already. How it would be nearly impossible to obey, even though I would want to do it. How it would make everything that much more focused, examining every touch and lick and kiss to make sure that it wouldn’t send me over the edge. I would drown in it, happily.
Grant’s mouth sealed over me again, drawing pleasure almost to the peak. “But since we didn’t agree to that this time, you can come as much as you want. Whenever you want,” he whispered against me. “Like when I suck your swollen little clit. Or lick it.” He did. “I think I’ve figured out exactly where you like it.”
He swept his tongue up to one side, where the pleasure always spiraled out of control almost too quickly. That one single spot was where he focused all his attention, thrusting me over the edge before I saw the orgasm coming. I sank into it, falling, shuddering, trusting it. It was slow and rolling, something that felt as if it wasn’t going to end.
That was when he rose up and drove himself deep. Pulled open, tied for him, I was so much fuller, so much tighter. I couldn’t stop the way I cried out as the next wave of pleasure burst over me like a shooting star. He’d driven me higher so that every movement felt like another orgasm, and I was helpless to do anything but feel them.
Another way that I was bound and tied.
Knowing that just made the next wave more powerful. I threw my head back as far as I could, arching against the ropes and letting everything go.
I was lost to the feeling of him driving into me. Pleasure and the tension of ropes biting into my skin. The sound of him groaning as he sought and found his own pleasure, dropping his mouth to my neck and whispering words that I barely registered but that somewhere my mind knew were dirty. Filthy. Everything I wanted and more.
One final firework burst in my core, seconds before Grant’s voice echoed off the walls. He buried himself deep and held there. We both shuddered together, Grant’s forehead on mine. My eyes were open now, and still, I liked this feeling of being surrounded and taken. Cared for in the strangest way.
For a single moment, I felt a wave of uncertainty. Was it really okay that I liked this? That we both did? What did that say about me that I was tiedto Grant’s bed and was the happiest I could remember being in a long time?
He smiled. “How do you feel?”
“Yeah.” That was the only word I had. “Yeah.”
“Hold still.” The words were gentle. “While I get you out of these.”
I missed the feeling of him when he pulled back. That fullness and the warmth of being covered by his body.
He was out of view for a moment before coming back with a washcloth and cleaning me. Even with him just having been inside me, this felt more intimate. My voice came back for that. “I can do that.”
His smile was teasing. “How? You’re still tied up.”
“I—”
“This is part of it too, Cori. You don’t feel it yet, but being tied up is harder on the body than you realize. I’m going to take care of you. That’s part of the commitment I make when I agree to do this.”
“Oh.”
He cleaned me and disappeared again before slowly untying the ropes from around my thighs. Not only that, but stroking and massaging the muscles just like he had for my ankles. He stretched out my legs before straddling my body again to release my wrists. “Careful,” he said, gently releasing them but keeping hold of them.
It was all very intentional and precise as he lowered my arms. My shoulders ached. Not in a bad way, but I could feel it.
“Shoulders?” he asked.
“Yeah. It’s not bad.”
His fingers dug into the muscles there, loosening them before he moved to the side. “One of my favorite parts of rope,” he said, helping me to sit up.
Across my thighs, I saw the impressions the rope had left. An imprint that would fade quickly, but he was right. It was sexy. The same marks were on my wrists. “Wow.”
Slipping a hand behind my neck, he tilted my face up so he could kiss me. Slow and gentle and with no less heat. “Stay here, all right? I’m going to get your phone so you can call Lena, and some water.”
“You could have left me tied up a little longer while you did that,” I said with a laugh.
“You’re right,” I could have. “But I won’t. I would never leave someone unattended like that for longer than it took for me to step into the bathroom.”
Right. That made sense.
Grant pulled on a pair of black sweatpants, leaving his entire gorgeous chest on display before he went downstairs. Goose bumps were still on my skin. I was cold away from him. Quickly, I pulled down the comforter on the bed and snuggled underneath it. He wouldn’t mind, right? My mind was still floaty in a good way, and I felt tired. That was a good thing, too. Tired in the same way you were after you’d done something satisfying.