“I enjoy it when you take your pleasure from my body,” I told him, dragging my fingers down the exposed muscles of his arms until I reached his armpit. Gooseflesh trailed after me, and I pinched him gently at the place his arm folded into his chest. Smith’s chin trembled, and I tightened my fingers until he screwed his eyes closed in pain. “If it would please you to color me in with your tongue, then consider me a canvas. I wouldn’t even be mad if when you finished you dry-humped my leg while you sucked on my cock.”
“Would you come?” he asked, lashes fluttering when I released the thin strip of skin I’d been holding. There were marks from my fingernails there, and I rubbed my thumb over one before sliding my hand to the center of his chest.
“I might. But I also might stay soft in your mouth, heavy and limp on your tongue.”
Smith let out a shaky breath, shifting his stare from the ceiling to my face. His pupils were shot, massive black discs inthe center of his irises making sure I knew just how much he didn’t hate the idea of taking my flaccid dick into his mouth.
“You’re…” I let myself trail off, not even aware of the words that could explain how perfect I found Smith Covington.
Instead of talking more, I moved down the bed and looped leather cuffs around his ankles and folded his body in half. I had two short bars that I clipped between his wrists and his ankles, keeping his knees in his armpits and his asshole on display.
“Is this uncomfortable?” I asked.
He huffed out a laugh and rolled his head from side to side on the pillow. “Not as much as it should be, I don’t think.”
“Tell me if anything goes numb.”
“Yes, Sir,” he answered quickly, teeth snapping when he slammed his mouth closed. “Sorry.”
“You’re okay, baby.” I tugged on his lower lip until he once again relaxed his jaw. “I like the sound of it when you say it.”
He swallowed, and I grasped his nipple, tugging hard as I worked my way back down his body. I had other things at the foot of the bed I planned to use, and Smith was in for a very long night. I poured some lube onto my fingers and thrust one into him without any warning.
“Riggs,” he gasped my name, immediately fighting at the restraint. “I just had dinner, I haven’t?—”
“I don’t care,” I told him, adding a second finger. “Relax, baby. You’re going to shatter my knuckles.”
He grunted, unhappiness palpable, but he didn’t use his safe word, so I didn’t stop. I stretched him open and when I was satisfied he’d had enough, I went to the bathroom to wash my hands. When I returned, the sight of Smith on my bed was one I’d remember forever. His flushed cheeks, straining cock, and his shiny and slick asshole.
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine,” he promised. “Horny.”
I laughed, opening the lube for a second time and drizzling it over the black inflatable plug I planned to use on him. The toy was only about four inches long and not very thick, but it inflated to a girth I could barely wrap my fist around. It would do nicely for what I had planned, so I slowly teased the toy into Smith’s slippery and prepped asshole. The cuffs around his wrists and ankles jostled as he fought against the intrusion, but with the way he was bound up, there was nowhere really for him to go.
He was exactly where I wanted him.
I slid down the bed and dug my fingers into the backs of his thighs, then I spread him out and licked a hot circle around his stretched rim. The taste of lube and rubber and sweat sent a shiver down my spine, and I ate his ass as well as I could with the plug keeping him stuffed. Spit ran down the crack of his ass and soaked my comforter, but I could not care less. The only thing that mattered was taking—and keeping—Smith out of his mind for the rest of the night.
He barely noticed when I attached the first clothespin to him. I eased it onto the crease of skin where his leg met his groin. It wasn’t until I flicked it did he come around to the pressure, and by then I had already added a second. Smith had responded so well the first night to the pinching and the pressure points, but while there was plenty I could do to him with only my hands, it was still…only my hands. I made quick work of two more clips in the same spot on the other side of his body, then I pumped the plug once and waited.
Smith breathed deep through his mouth, the sound wet and soft. I flicked two of the pins against each other, and his breath drawled into a whimper. It was the loud rattle of his restraints when I teased another clothespin against his perineum, a garbled cry when I attached it to the loose skin of his sac instead. I tugged on it, watching the way his balls shifted, how the skin there tightened. His body pulled on the clothespin for me, and Ismiled down at the sight. Smith’s dick twitched, and I gave a few more pumps to the plug inside of him.
“Riggs,” he gasped my name, jerking his wrists away from the headboard and finding nowhere to go.
“I’m here,” I promised, adding clips down the tanned stretch of his inner thigh. For good measure, I pinned each of his nipples, then I bent down and dusted a kiss over his lips. He opened quickly, desperate to chase after me, but I had no interest in the taste of his tongue. I pinched his cheeks between my thumb and fingers, then I spit into his mouth I pinned his lips together and pulled back to study his face. I think any other man would have found it humiliating but not Smith. Not my perfect little pain slut, Smith, who knew so much and so little about himself.
“If you want me to stop, snap your fingers,” I told him. “Show me you can do it.”
Smith’s nostrils flared and he snapped his fingers, then holding my stare, he swallowed my spit. His Adam’s apple bobbed, he corded muscles of his throat tense. I was still folded over his body, my jeans abrading his thighs and nudging the clothespins I’d already put onto his skin. He winced, and I smiled, reaching down and pumping the plug, inflating it thicker inside of him. I slid back down the front of him, taking his whole erection into my mouth and sucking him until he was ready to come.
CHAPTER 27
SMITH
Icame all over Riggs’s tongue, my cum splattering against his chin and cheek as he pulled his mouth away from my cock with a wet pop. My dick was still spurting when he yanked all the clothespins off of me, save for the ones on my nipples and my lips, though I screamed hard enough from the pain I popped the latter off myself. I fought wildly against his bondage, suddenly too constricting and too revealing, but the sight of Riggs hovering above me stopped me in my tracks.
His hair was still loose from our ride earlier, tucked behind his ears and wild at the ends. His eyes were dark and inquisitive, his lips wet when his tongue darted out to lick the taste of me away. He only ate what he could reach, leaving the rest of my orgasm to dry on his chin, his cheek, my own stomach.
