He puts his hand on my nape and kisses me hard. Then he goes to his bag, rummages in it for a couple of seconds, and pulls out the pink furry handcuffs, a condom, and a bottle of lube. Electricity runs through me. Kian puts everything on the bed, returns to me, and tugs my towel so it drops to the floor in a pool of white, fluffy fabric. He unties his and lets it fall beside mine.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather ride my cock?” he asks. “You’d have more control that way.”
I shake my head. I’ve made up my mind. “I trust you.”
“You have no idea how much that means to me.”
“Show me,” I whisper.
“I’ll try.”
He takes my hand and leads me to the bed. “Make yourself comfortable.”
I lie on my back, head on a pillow. I grab a spare cushion, put it under my hips, and spread my legs with my knees raised. “Is this okay?”
“Perfect.” He kneels beside me and opens the handcuffs.
“You’ve got the key, right?”
“I’ve got a paperclip.”
My heart pounds.
Kian laughs. “Relax. I had to twist Rufus’s arm, but he gave me the key. And I checked it to make sure he hadn’t given me the wrong one.”
I release my breath and raise my eyebrows. “How many pairs of handcuffs does Rufus have?”
“No clue. But I wouldn’t have put it past him to give me the wrong key, so we ended up cuffed together again.”
“Nor would I.”
Kian dangles the cuffs in front of my eyes. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
He cuffs my left wrist, raises my arm, and hooks the chain around one of the bed slats. Then he takes my right wrist and lifts it towards my left. He pauses, looking me in the eye. I return his stare. Hopefully, he doesn’t see any hint of doubt in my eyes. He smiles and snaps the cuff around my wrist.
My pulse spikes, and my breath catches in my throat. Then Kian kisses me, and the shreds of doubt and fear remaining in my heart drift away like dandelion seeds on the breeze. With them go bitter memories. I don’t try to cling to them, as I have in the past. I let them go so I can concentrate on the moment. On being here right now with a man who brings me joy. A man who I trust with everything.
“Are you good?” He nuzzles my nose.
“Yes. Better than good. Everything’s perfect.”
He smiles, and my heart swoons at the sight of his dimples. I watch him as he kisses his way down my body, his lips warm and tender against my skin. Part of me wants to hold him or run my fingers through his hair. Yet I’m happily surrendering. There’s something freeing about having my wrists bound. Freeing and hot as hell.
When Kian reaches my groin, he picks up the lube bottle, and as he did the first night I asked him to finger me—the night he told me he loved me—he sucks my cock as he warms up my arse. His touch is gentle and slow. So fucking gentle as he uses one finger, then two, and then a third. As much as I want to close my eyes and enjoy the delightful sensations, I keep them open, my gaze locked with his. Every second that passes, my heart swells more until I’m sure it’s going to pop like a balloon.
“I want you,” I whisper. “I want you inside me.”
He releases my cock from his mouth. His lips are damp with saliva and pre-cum, and damn, he looks so fucking sexy. He kneels upright, giving me an amazing view of his cock, and opens the condom wrapper, gloves his dick, and covers it in plenty of lube.
I chuckle. “You can never use too much lube.”
“Never.”
He kneels between my knees and strokes my thighs. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good. I need you, Kian. Inside me. Please. I love you.”
