Oh,fuck yes.All the blood in my entire body shoots immediately to my cock as visions of having her at my total mercy fill my head. Helpless against me by her own choice, I’ll lick her until she’s screaming my name and won’t stop until she begs me to. “It would be my absolute pleasure,” I agree, reaching for them.
“No,” she says, shying back when I would take them. “I wantyouto wear them.”
Perhaps a by-product of the lack of blood, my brain short-circuits. “Erm…”
“Please?” she says, blinking up at me with an entreating expression. “It would be so hot. You said you wanted me to tell you what I want? Well… um, I want to… sit on your face while you’re restrained.”
As per usual, Madison doesn’t mince words. But her hesitation makes her seem nervous about her request. Perhaps she’s ashamed of this desire. Perhaps it’s hard for her to ask for what she really wants. Perhaps it puts her at ease to be in control the first time—makes it easier for her to come. If that’s the goal, I’m all for helping out.
“Normally I prefer to be the one putting the handcuffs on, but there’s a first time for everything. If this makes you more comfortable.”
She smiles. “It does. Lie back,” she urges, clearing her throat.
Once I’m in place, she snaps the cuff around my wrist, snakes the chain through the spindles in her headboard, and puts on the other. Dutifully, I lay still, feeling the jolt of the metal as the cuff closes.
Her smile is more excited now. More at ease. She straddles my legs and settles herself on top of my lap, and I strain against the handcuffs, dying to reach for her. I want more—more of her weight on me, more of her body on me, more of her taste, more of her scent—but like a muppet, I decided to play along. Since when doIgive up control?
Since Madison Cooper batted those lashes at me, that’s fucking when. I’m utterly helpless against that look—
“That’s better,” she says in a husky voice, wiggling her hips and dragging a stifled moan from deep in my chest. My cock is responding to the sensation of her heat nestled against me, stiffening painfully under her and straining against the fabric holding it prisoner.
Wait, why am I still wearing my trousers? I didn’t even think… we moved so fast… Why didn’t she say anything?
She inhales, making her breasts swell in their lace confines, and when she dips down to murmur in my ear, it’s all I can do not to test the integrity of the chain holding the cuffs together.
“Now that we’re both comfortable…”
In a fluid motion, she sits up, points a gun—where the fuck did she get that?!—at my chest and cocks it. My whole body tenses and goes cold, and my arousal sharpens impossibly as a dark, satisfied look overtakes her expression.
“Why don’t you tell me who you really are,Peter Smith?Or should I say SpyderMan?”
17
Madison
I knew it would be like this when we finally met.
He groans, and it melts into a low chuckle that vibrates through my whole body, starting in my core since I’m currently wide open and sitting on him. My insides clench at the sensation, and the heat between my legs that started when we kissed feels even hotter than before.
“Oh,brava,Madison. I’d applaud you, but my hands are a bit tied at the moment.”
Fuck, I wish I didn’t want to laugh at that.
“How did you figure it out?” he asks. If possible, he sounds even more turned on than he did a minute ago.
I knew it. Iknewit. It’s him. He’s SpyderMan. After all this time. I can’t believe we’refinallyface to face.
My pulse rockets, making my cheeks flush and my whole body tingle with excitement. A sudden swooping drop in my stomach coupled with a hard double-beat of my heart makes my hand shake a little—I hide it by pretending to adjust my grip on the gun.
Okay, be cool, Mads.I cooked this plan up when there was still a decent chance Peter was just some random stalker and I needed to assess the stranger danger. Now that I know he’s the guy I’ve been flirting with online for two years… I’m not really sure where to go from here.
Part of me wants to stow the gun because I know my SpyderMan would never hurt me. But he’s clearly not here to buy me tacos and win me stuffed animals—if he had been, he would have just told me who he was. He’s been playing me since the moment we met in that café. Maybe even before. And if I know him, SpyderMan has some sort of agenda.
I need to take several chill pills and figure out what it is.
He gives his cuffs a tug, and the metallic rattle echoes deep in my core. An image flashes—of our positions being reversed. Of being under him. Restrained. At his mercy. Open, waiting, willing,desperate…
Snap the fuck out of it, Madison.
