Almost mine.
God, I need him to be mine.
This is the kind of pure, overwhelming desire I’ve been missing the last year.
It hurts.
But in the best possible way.
He brings his hands to my waist and peels my torso up. Until it’s pressed against his, my back against his chest, my ass against his crotch, my head against his chin.
He holds me in place with one hand.
Runs the other up and down my side. My hip. My ass. My chest.
This time, his thumb brushes my nipple.
Fuck, that feels good.
I let out a groan.
Another.
Another.
He toys with me like I’m made for him. Then it’s his index finger. Middle. Ring. Pinkie.
He moves to my other breast and does the same.
He shifts his hips so his cock grinds against my ass.
He was right.
I do feel like I’m his.
And I trust him to lead me anywhere.
It’s scary how much I trust him with my body. But I feel too good to care.
He drags his lips over my neck as he toys with my nipples.
He toys and toys and toys.
Fuck, my sex is aching.
“Please,” I breathe.
“You’ll come when I say you come.”
The demanding tone makes my sex clench.
God, he’s so sexy in control.
I want it. All of it.
His rocks his hips against me, his cock against the flesh of my ass.
Those jeans are in the way.
There’s too much in the way.
He teases and teases and teases.
I’m panting when he pulls his arm to his side.
“On the bed,” he growls. “On your back. Now.”
I sit on the bed. My eyes lock with his as I slide up it. Then they lose his as I lower myself onto my back.
“Fuck, Kay.” He plants his body between my legs. Drags his fingertips over my calf, up my inner thigh. “You have no fucking idea how badly I want to taste your cunt.”
My breath catches in my throat.
His fingers dig into my inner thighs. One. Then the other.
He pins my legs to the bed.
Leans down to drag his lips over the inside of my knee.
Up my thigh.
Almost.
Almost.
Almost—
I gasp as his lips brush my clit. Fuck, that’s intense.
My hands reach for something. The sheets.
His hair.
But he grabs my wrist.
Pins my arm to the bed.
Fuck. The pressure of his palm against my wrist—
The way he’s holding me down—
It pushes me to the edge.
He teases me again.
Another soft brush of his lips.
Another tease.
Another.
Another.
Then he’s moving over every inch of me. Feather light. It sets my nerves on fire. It has every part of me awake and alive. Alive in a way I haven’t been in a very, very long time.
I reach for him with my free hand.
He reacts instantly. Grabs my wrist. “Do that again and I’ll have to tie you up.”
Mmm.
Yes.
Please.
I bring both hands to his head. Tug at his hair.
He looks up at me with his eyes on fire. He’s assessing me. Figuring something out.
But what?
I don’t know.
He nods. “Hands over your head.”
Slowly, he shifts off my body. He reaches into the bedside drawer. Pulls something out. A pair of padded black handcuffs.
My breath catches in my throat.
It’s so fucking hot, Brendon holding handcuffs.
He slides them over my wrists then pulls, then slides two fingers under the right cuff. Pulls them tight.
Does the same with the left.
I shift my wrists, testing the restraints. They’re not tight enough to hurt, but they’re tight enough to keep me bound.
I can still move my arms.
But…
He moves to the foot of the bed. Stares down at me. “Those stay over your head. Understand?”
“Or?”
“Or I stop.”
No… anything but that.
I nod. I understand. And, God, I want it too.
I want all of him.
He climbs back onto the bed.
Plants between my legs.
Slowly, he drags his lips up my inner thigh, over my sex, down my other leg to the inside of my knee.
He traces his path. Again. Again.
Again.
He gets harder.
Harder.
Fuck, I’m aching.
I need him.
I need to come.
I need everything.
He nips at my inner thigh. So, so close to where he needs to be.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Fuck—
His tongue flicks against my clit.
It’s soft.
Slow.
My body floods with pleasure as he laps at me.
I let his name fall off my lips.
I buck against his mouth.
More. I need more.
He plants one palm against my hip bone, holding me in place.
And he licks me harder. Faster.
Fuck, that soft, wet tongue—
All that pressure in my sex winds and winds.
Tighter and tighter.
And tighter.
And—
There.
Everything releases.
I see white.
Nothing but bliss.
My sex pulses as pleasure spreads through my torso.
But he…
He’s not stopping.
“Brendon.”
He groans against me.
Like he can’t get enough.
My hips fight his hands.
My thighs too.
But he’s stronger than I am.
I’m stuck in place.
The thought tightens everything inside me. I’m at his mercy. And—
Fuck.
The tension knots.
Again.
Again.
Again.
With the next flick of his tongue, I go over the edge. I groan his name as I come. I shake through my orgasm, soaking up every bit of pleasure.
He drags his lips over my inner thigh.
He plants a kiss on my pelvis. My stomach. My breastbone.