Page 78 of Fair Game

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“Go.”

Elise hurries to the bed, and I go to my walk-in closet.

I might not be able to participate in full-body rough sex without fracturing more of my ribs, but I’ll make it intense for her. Elise was so fucking wet when we talked about this before. She’s going to get what she wants.Iget to give her what she wants.

It doesn’t take long to get what I need from a set of drawers in the closet. Slightly longer to get the rush of my emotions under control.

I’m so fucking glad I lived.

I’m so relieved that Elise didn’t kill her father.

And for the first time in fifteen years, all the things I’ve learned about sex and bodies and pleasure are just facts. Just ways to make her feel good and forget an awful nightmare. A way to keep a promise.

Nothing to be disgusted by, or ashamed of. Nothing to hide behind locks and keys and clothes.

Elise is waiting, sweet anticipation in the air, when I return. She doesn’t look at me. Her face is hidden by the fall of her hair. I can tell by the slight tremble in her body that she’s listening with everything she has.

I let her hear me open the drawer on the bedside table and close it again.

At her side of the bed, I run my fingertips down her spine. She’s propped on her elbows. Hovering above the blanket. “Hmm.”

“Is this not what you meant? You said—”

“You could have done better.” Elise opens her mouth to gasp. The perfect opportunity to push a ball of pink lace between her lips. Her own panties. “Bite.”

She does, her eyes wide, breathing quick and light.

I reach under her and find one of her nipples. Circle it, gentle, soft—

And then pinch hard.

Elise mewls into the makeshift gag. I pinch her other nipple, adding a few more seconds of pain, and soothe her with a kiss on her cheek. I brush her hair away from her face. I run my hand over her back, then take her by the neck and push her chest to the bed.

“Christ, Elise. You have the most fuckable ass.”

She doesn’t know what to do with her arms. That’s no trouble. I do.

Elise struggles a little when I pull her wrists behind her back. It’s not much of a fight. She looks more like she’s attempting to fuck the air than anything else.

I trail one of my ties over her pinned wrists.

“In the nightmare…” I’m highly conscious of the fact that Elise’s nightmare reflects real life in more ways than one. I’m also conscious that her mouth is full of pink lace. “Did you have to hold the edge of the desk?”

She closes her eyes, just for a moment, then nods.

“You won’t have to do that tonight.” Elise won’t have to do it ever, if she doesn’t want. “I’ll keep you where I want you.”

The sweet, filthy baker lets herself get heavier against the covers. I snug the tie around her wrists, giving her time to tell me if she hates it. Elise rocks her hips against the edge of the bed.

No, I think she likes it quite a bit.

Then she’s bound and impatient and I’m so hard that I could come all over her flawless ass without any more encouragement.

“Stop wriggling. Feet on the floor.” I jerk her hips into the position I want, her back slightly arched, her chest on the bed. She keeps her legs together. I curl my fingers through her hair and make a fist, leaning down so my face is near hers. “In the nightmare, did you have to keep your legs closed?”

A hot, frantic nod.

“Do you think Iwantyour legs closed, or do you think I want those pretty thighs spread so I can see your needy, wet cunt?”


Tags: Amelia Wilde Erotic