I lay there spread-eagle on our bed, covered in rose petals, completely naked and helpless.
Cole stood beside the bed, looking at me.
“I could look at you like this forever.”
“Or,” I pulled at the restraints, “you could touch me.”
“I plan to.” He stripped off his boxers.
His cock sprang free. Hard and ready.
My mouth watered.
He knelt on the bed between my spread legs. His breath warmed my inner thigh.
“Please.”
His tongue flattened against me.
Licked up my center in one long stroke.
I arched and nearly came off the bed. The restraints held.
“Fuck. Cole. I—”
He did it again. Slower this time.
Then his tongue found my clit.
Circled it.
Sucked it.
I pulled at the silk, desperate for something to hold on to.
He slid two fingers inside me. Curled them just right.
The pressure built. Fast. Overwhelming.
“I’m going to…”
He stopped.
Pulled away completely.
“What? Why?”
He kissed my inner thigh. “Not yet.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
He was right. I didn’t.
His fingers slid back inside me. His mouth returned to my clit.
He brought me right to the edge.
