He didn’t say much after that, and neither did I, at least not until he added a finger, and I immediately begged him for another. Cory laughed against me, taking his time with the first finger, drawing it all the way out of me before sliding it back in. True to his word, he’d eaten my ass so thoroughly before even bothering with his fingers he hadn’t needed lube. When it was time for another finger, he used it anyway, the cool squirt of wetness a sharp contrast to the heat of his mouth. Two fingers, and then three, and I had already broken out in a sweat, thrashing beneath him while wanting more and less at the same time.
“Make room for me,” he whispered, reaching for my hands and guiding them to my thighs. I spread myself open for him, held my legs apart, and stared down my heaving chest at the determined look on his face as he tried to get a fourth finger into me.
“It’s a lot,” I groaned, almost an apology.
“But you’ll bear it for me, won’t you?”
It might as well have been a statement, a key to unlocking the final bands of tension that had wrapped around my body. We’d been at this for so long I’d lost track of time, reduced to nothing more than precum and need as his pinky forced its way into my body, up to the widest stretch of his knuckles. I cried out, clamping down so hard onto his hand he cursed under his breath and eased out almost all the way.
“Do you want this, Reese?”
I was crying, I realized. Snotty. Spitty.
“Yes, Sir, but…”
Cory glanced up at me and put his mouth back between my legs, tongue fucking my gape until the muscles relaxed back to normal and it hurt to have his tongue inside of me again.
“But what?” he asked, dragging his teeth over my rim.
It was embarrassing, the thing I needed in order to have the thing I wanted.
“Help me,” I whispered.
“Help you how, darling?” He stroked his sticky hands up and down the length of my thighs, from the backs of my knees to my balls, always touching, always moving. Like a fast-spreading fire.
“My body, it…” I groaned, covering my face with my hands.
“Reese.”
“Tie me up,” I blurted. “Tie me up so I can’t fight it.”
The look that crossed Cory’s face was positively primal. He cocked his head to the side and exhaled so low it sounded like a growl. I’d never seen him so possessed.
“Are you certain?”
“Please,” I begged, screwing my eyes closed. “I want this so much. I want it, Cory. I fucking want it.”
He palmed my asshole, and I flexed the muscle so he could feel me try to open for him, so he understood how serious I was.
“Don’t move,” he warned, climbing off the bed and disappearing into the closet.
The two of us had a different life before the other. Play used to look a lot different for me and for him, and I knew between the two of us we needed to have something that would work to get me over the finish line. I expected cuffs, but Cory came back with rope and made quick work of binding my right wrist to my right ankle, left to left.
“Is this okay?” he asked, running his fingers over the places where the rope met my skin.
“It’s perfect.”
It was so perfect, I could have cried…
I already was crying.
I was sobbing, and he licked the tears from my face, smeared them across my mouth with his tongue, then he tied my limbs to hidden bolts in the headboard. It was like the worst kind of yoga position, spread out and vulnerable.
Exposed.
Cory set a pair of safety scissors onto the pillow beside my face.
“Say the word and it’s done, Reese.”
