He wraps his arm around my waist and helps me to my feet.
His body stays pressed against mine.
His cock stays pressed against my ass.
He holds me there for a long moment, then he takes a half-step backward.
He presses his palm into my lower back and leads me through the living space, into the clean, minimal bedroom.
King bed. Clean white sheets. Oak dresser. Matching desk covered in notebooks.
Is he staying here? Or did he come early, to set up the room, prepare, feel at ease?
Visions form in my mind. Max, curled in the armchair, notebook in hand, thoughts focused on a project.
What does he do all day?
What does he draw when he's alone?
What does he want?
My thoughts scatter as he releases me. I pull them back. To the room. The gorgeous view of the Manhattan skyline. The clean white bed.
Max, at the dresser, pulling a condom from a drawer.
He slides the foil packet into his pocket. He does away with his jacket.
The tie.
The watch.
Slowly, he rolls his sleeves to his elbows.
Fuck, his forearms are sexy. How can forearms be this sexy?
How can I be so enamored with his bare forearms when I'm buck naked?
He meets me at the edge of the bed. "No circulation issues?"
"None."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
He nods. "Makeshift materials are fun, especially for roleplay, but they're not safe. If you want something that really restricts you, you need bondage rope."
"And this?"
"It's only tight enough you'll feel it." He presses his lips to my shoulder. "Put your hands behind your back."
I do.
He presses my wrists together. Gathers the tie. Cinches a snug knot. "Feel this?"
I nod.
"Move your hands."
I wiggle my fingers.
"Not tight enough to truly restrict movement. Now this—" he pulls the knot tighter. So tight it cuts into my skin. "This isn't safe. If I leave this too long, I could cause permanent damage."
"How do you know?"
"Practice." He loosens the knot. "Two fingers is a good rule of thumb." He slips two fingers under the tie. "If I can't get two fingers under a binding, it's too tight. You won't be able to test yourself. You'll have to trust whoever you're with."
And he doesn't trust my future partners.
He's protective of me.
Which is strange. We agreed to one night, one time.
But then I like the way it feels too. I want Max protecting me. Even if it's only tonight.
"Get used to the feel." He tugs at the knot until the tie digs into my skin. "I hope you'll always have a partner who looks after you, but I can't count on that." Unless I come back and tie you up again.
It's there, in his voice, but neither of us mentions it.
"This feels okay?" He tugs again.
I dig my nails into my palms. "Yes."
"Good." He places his body behind mine again. Presses his lips to my neck again.
Soft.
Slow.
Tender even.
He slides his hand around my waist, holds my body against his as he kisses a line down my neck, over my shoulder.
Then back up.
The scrape of his teeth.
Harder.
Harder.
Hard enough I feel it.
Hard enough it hurts.
Then he moves me. Not to the bed.
To the wall.
He pins me against the cream wallpaper.
Slowly, at first.
Then fast.
Hard.
I turn my head, but still, my temple digs into the wall.
Fuck.
It hurts in a way that feels so fucking good.
My thoughts disappear as he tugs at my hair. "You're pliable."
I don't know what to say, so I nod.
"It's driving me out of my fucking mind." He brings his hand between my legs. Slips two fingers inside me. "You're perfect, Opal."
Fuck. That's intense.
He pushes his fingers deeper.
Deeper.
Adds a third.
My eyes flutter closed.
He drives his fingers into me again and again, spreading me wider, pushing deeper.
When he pulls back, I'm empty. Achy. Impossibly in need of satisfaction, only he can provide.
He rocks his hips against me, so I feel his hardness against my ass.
One tease, then his hands are on his slacks. The belt. The button. The zipper.
Max knots his hand in my hair. He holds me in place as he tears the foil wrapper, rolls the condom over his cock.
Then he brings one hand to my hip, and he pulls my body over his.
His cock strains against me.
The sharp tug of rubber.
The light hint of sensation.
Only enough to make every molecule of my body scream more.
Again.
Again.
All at once, he pushes into me.
Fuck.
My eyes close.
My fingers dig into my palms.
My toes curl into my heels.
He pulls back and does it again.
A little faster.
A little faster.
There.
A groan falls from my lips. I reach for something, but the tie catches my wrists. I need more. I need to do something to release the pressure building inside me.
My groan gets louder.
My nails dig harder.
His name falls off my lips.
Max wraps his other arm around my torso. He pulls my body into his, holding me close as he drives into me again and again.
Pushing me closer.
Closer.
So fucking close.