My eyes widen, my mouth falling open. “Really?” I sit up, a wide grin parting my lips. “Are you sure? Color?”
She laughs, then nods. “Green.”
I’m giddy as I shove aside pillows and slide my hand between the mattress and headboard, where I know all too well where the restraints are hidden. Harlow lies back and lifts her arms without me even having to ask.
“Is this too tight? Or is it okay?” I say as I secure the restraints around Harlow’s wrists.
“It’s good,” she says.
I lean back on my heels and drink in the sight of this gorgeous and confident woman helpless before me. It’s a heady feeling. I much prefer being the one tied up while Harlow has her way with my body, but I have a feeling I’m about to thoroughly enjoy the plans I have for her.
“You’re beautiful, Harlow,” I say. “But oh. One more thing.” I lean forward, my chest hovering over her face, and she lifts her head to suck my nipple into her mouth.
“Hey,” I scold, before pulling out of her reach.
“Oh? You’re the only one who gets to be a brat?” Harlow teases.
“Duh.” I wink before reaching for her hair tie. Harlow frowns, confused, until I tug lightly, asking for permission. Harlow nods, and I carefully remove it. I spread her long, silky black hair out across the pillows and am hypnotized. “Fuck, it’s even better than I imagined.”
“My hair?”
I nod and lick my lips, moving lower down her body. Fingers caress the soft skin of her abdomen. My touch teases down one thigh, then up the other as Harlow partsher legs for me. I smile and lift myself off the mattress and slowly move across her body until I’m straddling her.
“I’ve always wondered what it would look like out of that flawless topknot you always keep it trapped in,” I say. “How it would look draped across the pillows. And, I have to admit, it’s super fucking hot.”
Harlow’s legs are restless, and she shifts her hips in a way that prompts my body forward. I catch myself and move backward, flashing her a scolding expression.
“You better quit being a brat,” I warn.
“Or what?”
“Or …” I run my hands up her stomach until I cup both her breasts. She bites down on her lip while her eyelids flutter shut. I take my time rolling her hardened nipples over my fingers, squeezing and caressing her chest.
“You know, I’ve fantasized about this too,” I say, drinking in the sight of her flushed, soft skin—the way she wriggles under my touch. I rock my hips, and she groans at the feeling of how wet I am against her stomach.
“You always know what my body needs—how to work me up until I’m shaking with want and begging for you to fuck me.” I flip my hair over one shoulder and lean forward to whisper into her ear. “I want to hearyoubeg, Harlow.”
She groans, her eyes squeezing shut. I kiss her. Hot and hungry and full of want. I wrap my fingers around her throat and pull back. Harlow tries to lean forward to recapture my lips, but I tighten my hold on her throat, keeping her in place.
“I thought about all the things I could do. I could … tease you. I could … edge you. I could make this last for hours, but none of that is good enough. None of that is the delicious torture you deserve.”
“Lily,” she whimpers.
“No,” I say and push against her chest until I’m sitting upright. I dance my fingers down her body and up ontomylegs. I slowly trail them up my thighs. My fingers slide to the narrow space between Harlow’s stomach and my center. “I’m going to touch myself. And you can’t do a damn thing but lay there and watch.”
Harlow thrashes against the restraints. “Lily,” she growls.
Warmth pools between my thighs, and I whisper to myself, “I knew that would do it.”
“Lily—fuck.Lily!”
My thighs clench as one hand moves up to pinch and tease my nipple. My other hand is busy, slowly circling my clit. Eyelids fluttering shut, my chest rapidly rises and falls as my orgasm builds inside me. Harlow is bucking under me. The hungry sounds falling from her lips as she attempts to free herself from the restraints are going to make me come.
Night after lonely night in my apartment on the other side of the country, I let my mind wander while my fingers would play between my thighs. Yet there’s not a single fantasy that is better than the reality of Harlow writhing beneath me.
“Lily.”
“Harlow,” I pant.
