She shook her head, too stunned to be ashamed.
“You want me to stop?” he asked.
Honesty warred with modesty. Modesty lost. “No,” she whispered.
“That’s my pretty girl,” he said again, and then his tongue circled her slowly, teasing the edges, making her toes curl into the blanket. The unfamiliar feeling sent strange, shivery waves through her, radiating outward in a way that somehow made the dull ache between her thighs even sharper.
He moved his face lower until his tongue reached her clit. She instinctively repositioned her legs, spreading her thighs so he could get in close. Gage’s tongue lapped at her clit, then drew small, torturous patterns that made her moan into the mattress. “Say you want more,” he said, voice roughening.
“I… want more,” she gasped.
He stilled. “Not good enough,” he said, louder. “Beg for it.”
She bit the pillow, pride warring with need. “Please,” she managed, the word muffled. “Please, Gage. I want more.”
He made a satisfied sound. Then he obliged. His tongue continued circling her sensitive nub as his finger slowly traced her back entrance, still wet from his tongue. His fingers pressed more insistently now, tracing and circling. He began to gently suck on her clit, while at the same time finally pressing past the tight resistance of her back entrance. The intrusion wasstrange and intense and impossibly intimate. For a second, discomfort flared. Then it turned into something else—hot, shocking pleasure that made her vision blur and her fingers clench uselessly against the rope.
She moaned, louder this time, hips bucking without her consent. The sensation of both her front and back being worked at once had her eyes rolling back in her head. He held her steady as his free hand slid up to cup one breast, thumb rolling the nipple through the thin fabric of her dress.
Her body felt like it was on fire. No one had ever dared to touch her like this. It felt like she was with three men at once, but it was only Gage. Every stroke of his tongue, every teasing retreat and plunging return of his finger, every hard pinch of her nipple, rewrote the map of her own body. “Listen to you,” he said loudly between licks, his voice vibrating against her. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she choked out. “I—Gage, please.”
He moved his tongue back and forth. Moving to her slit briefly, letting her feel his breath against her soaked entrance, then returned to the place that made her toes curl and her vision go white. “Do you want more?” he asked again, as he gave her nipple a hard flick.
“Yes,” she cried. “Yes, oh, please—”
“Keep being good for me. You dirty girl,” he said, cruel and almost tender all at once.
“Please,” she begged. “Please, Gage, I need you. Inside me. Please. I’m so close, I—”
Suddenly he pulled away. She almost sobbed at the loss.
Cool air rushed in where his tongue had been. The gap felt raw.
She heard him spit into his hand, heard the slick sound of him stroking himself. Then his weight shifted, and she felt thebroad, hot head of him nudge against her entrance. He didn’t tease now.
He pushed forward in one long, punishing stroke, sinking into her until his hips hit the backs of her thighs. The fullness was almost unbearable, made more intense by the lingering buzz of his tongue’s work. She cried out, the sound high and desperate. He groaned, low and deep. “Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re… you’re gripping me like you were made for this.” He withdrew partway and slammed back in, hard. The pillow muffled her scream.
He set a brutal rhythm, each thrust driving her higher and higher. Her body, already strung tight, responded helplessly, clenching around him, pleasure coiling low and tight.
“Ahh, I love how you take me. Your ass looks so good from this angle. With me pounding deep into your pussy.”
Then, just when she thought she couldn’t take more, his hand moved from her hips back down to her backside, a single rough fingertip finding the place he’d just been with his mouth. He pressed there gently, not quite entering, just adding that extra edge of sensation that made her see stars. Her mind dissolved. She had never felt anything like this. Every nerve seemed to be firing at once. The pressure built and built, like a wave drawing back.
“You’re doing so good. You’re my good fucking girl,” his voice growing louder. “You’re mine,” he boomed.
His words pushed her closer to the edge than she'd ever been. “I’m—” she gasped, words tumbling over themselves. “Gage, please, I’m going to explode, please don’t stop!” She managed to twist her head enough to look back at him, hair sticking to her cheeks, eyes wide and wild. He saw her, truly saw her in that moment—disheveled, bound, flushed, on the brink of something she’d never reached before.
And then he made his choice. He pulled out. The sudden emptiness was like being dropped from a great height. “Wait,” she cried, voice cracking. “No—no, please, I—”
He was already fisting himself, hand moving in quick, harsh strokes. He stepped to the front of her so that when his release came, hot and sudden, it spilled across her forehead, her eyes, and her ruby lips in warm ropes. “Guahhhh” he roared as he came. She flinched, eyes squeezing shut as the warmth splattered her skin. His breath came in harsh pants. For a moment, he braced one hand on the headboard above her, head hanging, hair falling into his face.
Then he stepped back. The only sound in the cottage was her ragged breathing and the faint drip of his release sliding down her cheek onto the mattress. He stared at her wrists, where the rope had left faint pink tracks, and then at her face covered in his release. A sudden, violent flash of clarity crossed his features—not the satisfaction of a conqueror, but the wide-eyed look of a man who had looked into a mirror and didn't recognize the beast staring back.
His hands shook as he reached for the knots. He fumbled with the rope at her wrists, his movements frantic. “Gage?” she whispered, confused by the sudden change in temperature.
“I have to go,” he rasped, the words catching in his throat. He yanked the last knot free. He didn't look at her. He couldn't. He practically scrambled off the bed, hauling his trousers up and buckling his belt with trembling fingers.
