Christ, she looks beautiful tied to my bed.
And maybe slightly uncomfortable, but I would expect nothing less from a woman who is used to having her way. Who is used to being in control in every single aspect of her life. Especially this one.
We both know that she still is. All she has to do is utter a single word and I’ll release her. But not having to make these decisions. Allowing me to direct her pleasure by securing her hands will give her something she can’t get any other way.
Freedom.
I grab the hem of my T-shirt and tug it up over my head, tossing it to the floor with the rest of the haphazardly discarded clothes. Her eyes roam over my shoulders, my chest, my arms, taking in all the ink scattered across it.
Her gaze dips to follow my hands as I shove down my jeans and my cock springs free. They widen at the sight of it and the metal balls traveling up the length. “What the hell is that?”
Fighting a grin, I brush my fingers over them. “A Jacob’s ladder.”
All the breath rushes from her lungs as she stares at it.
“Trust me, Hellcat. It’s for your benefit.”
She squirms and presses her thighs together as I grasp my length and stroke it slowly, gliding my fingers across the head to spread the precum there.
Fuck.
It’s been so long, and I’ve wanted this woman since the first time I saw her, even more after getting to know her.
I climb onto the bed and nudge her knees open, fully exposing her to me again. “Are you on birth control?”
“Of course, I am.”
“Have you been tested?”
She gives me an incredulous look. “Of course.”
“So have I.” I lock gazes with her. “So, do I need to grab a condom out of my drawer, or can I feel your hot cunt on my cock and allow you to feel this the way it was intended?”
“Fuck.”
Squeezing her eyes closed, she shifts restlessly, tugging on the binding. She wants it as badly as I do, to truly feel all of me, and what it ultimately comes down to is how much she really does trust me. If what she said a few moments ago was true, or merely bravado and not wanting to back down from a challenge.
Because I do trust her.
Bishop isn’t a bullshitter.
She isn’t a liar.
She isn’t the type of person who would ever go to bed with me and lie about something this important. Her integrity means too much to her. Just like mine used to not that long ago.
Her eyes flutter open and zero in on me stroking my cock. A little groan slips from her throat. “I want to feel you.”
Fuck.
Those words are sweeter than any other ones I can remember ever hearing.
I shift closer to her, dragging the head of my cock through her slick core, and she groans, her hips bowing up in offering. That little brush with her heat is enough to make my length throb in my hand.
All it would take is one little thrust to have the head inside her and one, long, slow glide to allow her to know what being with me really feels like. How good my piercings will make it for her.
But I brace myself over her, feathering my lips across her breasts and along the column of her neck, to her mouth again, kissing her hard and deep, until she begins undulating under me.
She rolls her hips against mine, urging me to enter her, but I hold steady with just the head of my cock pressed where she wants it.
