I stand and strip off my shirt. She watches every movement as her eyes lift to my belt, where it holds her wrists, then to my hands as I open my fly.
“Untie me,” she says.
“Why?”
“So I can touch you.”
I climb onto the bed and push her thighs apart again with my knees. “You can touch me tomorrow.”
She glares. “I might kill you tomorrow.”
“Maybe.” I stroke myself once and line up. “Tonight, you take what I give you.”
Her mouth opens on a curse when I push into her.
She’s slick and tight and still pulsing from her orgasm, and the first thrust takes both of us out at the knees. I brace one hand beside her head and hold onto her hip with the other while I sink all the way in.
“Fuck,” I say into her mouth.
There is nothing controlled about the way I fuck her. It borders on violent from the first stroke, and the bed bangs the wall. Her wrists stay over her head, belt stretched tight, and the sight hits every filthy part of my brain. Strong and raging and tied down by her choice, while she fights me for every inch.
I kiss her open-mouthed and deep while I drive into her, and she turns her head enough to curse in my ear.
I move my hand from her hip to between her thighs and press my thumb to her clit. Her whole body responds.
“There she is,” I praise.
“Don’t get smug,” she pants. “Just fuck me.”
My arm burns. My shoulder pulls. But I do not slow down. She takes everything I give her and demands more with her eyes, her mouth, and the way she lifts into me and refuses to break first.
“Lev,” she says, and this time my name sounds different. Less fury. More need. “I’m close.”
I look at her tied to the headboard with tears still dried at the corners of her eyes, and something in my chest goes hot and vicious.
“Come for me,” I tell her. “Now.”
Her orgasm hits hard enough to make me grunt. She clenches around me and arches under my hand while I keep my thumb on her and drive through it until I lose the rhythm and slam into my own.
I bury my face in her neck and come with my teeth in my lip and my hand locked on her hip hard enough to leave marks by morning.
For a few seconds, neither of us moves much.
Then she turns her face and says against my jaw, “Untie me.”
I lift enough to reach the buckle and free the belt. Her arms drop to the bed, and she winces.
“Sorry,” I mutter, rubbing her wrists.
She looks at me, dazed and annoyed. “Don’t apologize for that one.”
A short laugh leaves me before I can stop it.
I get up, grab a wet cloth from her bathroom, and come back to clean her. She watches me silently the whole time. Her eyes close while I pull the blanket over her.
I lie down behind her and keep my hands to myself until she rolls away from me and curls on her side with her back to my chest.
The message is clear.
Stay, but don’t ask for more.
So that’s what I do.
