He groans as I spread my legs for him, my heels digging into the comforter. He swears as his eyes lock onto my pussy like a missile. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Princess.”
I smirk, and when he catches my expression, he laughs. “Don’t get cocky. This will wipe that grin right off your face.”
Before I can ask, he retrieves another length of rope from his bag, longer this time. “Bend your knees,” he instructs.
I obey, bending one knee, exposing myself even more to his hungry stare. His eyes flicker from my pussy to the rope as he knots it around my calf, then around my thigh, binding them together without hurting me. There’s slight tension in my thigh muscles, but it’s not as much of a stretch as some yoga positions I’ve been in before. Knots dot along my thigh and calf like a ladder, a thick web design keeping my leg in place.
Tristan follows suit with my other leg, binding my calves to my thighs and keeping my legs spread wide for him. My hips lift in this position, so he gets a full display of my pussy and my ass like this.
I tug on the bindings around my wrists and legs. There’s no give left. I’m truly at a killer’s mercy now.
And yet, he’s looking at me like I’m some masterpiece to be cherished. The way he’s admiring me in his artwork makes me feel beautiful and seen in a way no man has ever seen me before.
I’m exposed and open to him, yet I feel safe.
“You’re stunning, Daph,” he says with a faint whisper in his voice. “I’ve dreamed of you like this for a long time.” His hand coasts along my calf, up over my knee, and down my thigh. Shivers ripple across my skin from his faint touch, and awareness hums through me as he skims his hand closer to my pussy.
“Tristan,” I beg. “Please. I want you.”
Those beautiful, mismatched eyes spark with hunger, and his lip lifts in another crooked smirk. “Not tonight, Princess.”
What? What does he mean? If not tonight, then why do this? Why tie me up?
Before I can ask, pleasure flickers from my clit as he skates the rough pad of his fingers across the sensitive spot.
I closemy eyes, letting my body relax into the sensations as Tristan’s fingers glide lower, teasing the entrance of my pussy and swiping up my arousal before moving back to my clit.
“Oh, you want it bad, don’t you?” He teases as he circles my clit with his fingers.
“God, yes,” I moan as his finger flicks across my clit, sending a rush of heat to my core.
Tristan slips two fingers into my pussy, already slick with my arousal. My body eases into the pressure as his fingers flex toward the ceiling.
“Eyes on me, Princess,” he growls.
My eyes blink open, and Tristan’s crouched down between my spread legs, his lips inches from my pussy.
He blows warm air across my damp lips. God, his teasing is going to drive me mad. I need friction. Movement. More.
I wiggle my hips, trying to entice him closer. “Tristan, please.”
He leans lower, and he’s so close to my clit now I can’t see his lips. Only his eyes and the top of his head, his bangs tickling the skin on my mound. “Please, what? Use your words, Daphne.”
“Use your mouth,” I beg. “I need that tongue, Tris—oh!”
Tristan’s tongue flicks across my clit as his fingers begin to pump in and out of me in a delicious fucking motion.
My God, the man’s a gift. As he sucks and licks and rolls his tongue over my clit, his fingers work my pussy into a dripping frenzy. Need builds in my lower belly, and my muscles go taut against the ropes. Rope bites into my skin, and not being able to escape the pleasure pushes me to the edge.
Already, I’m close, but I need more. I need him.
“Tristan,” I gasp as he sucks on my clit. “God, I’m so close.”
Tristan chuckles into my pussy, making it vibrate. “I’m not God, Princess.”
He pulls his fingers from me as he leans back, his lips and chin glistening.
My orgasm quickly fades. “What?” My mind’s swirling, and I can’t think of any other words.
