‘Keep your hands still or I’ll tie them.’ True, I am touching him everywhere—anywhere. But it’s hard to resist him and almost impossible not to touch him. And this whole commanding, I’m in charge thing? Hotter than anything I could ever imagine. And, sorry Will, but I’m kind of not in the mood to be told no.
‘Idle hands are the devil’s playground.’ My voice sounds husky and wanton, his abs rippling under my palm as I feed my hand down his body and under his waistband.
‘Right now, you’re my fucking playground.’ He grunts as he pulls my hand out by my wrist, shoving it forcibly above my head. ‘Have you ever been tied, plum? Tied to a bed and forced to orgasm continually? Until you don’t know where you end or where you begin?’
I shake my head, because that sounds...
‘Don’t look too excited. It’s not fun the first time.’
‘Are you threatening me?’
‘Let’s call it a warning. Get your hands on the pillow, above your head.’ The images his words paint are sort of astounding. And a little too much. So I draw my hands up the bed, leaving them passive there. ‘Wrap them around the wood,’ he instructs.
I do as I’m bid, wrapping my fingers around the columns. His following words, as he slides down my body, are just a breath over my skin.
‘You look as good as you taste. So warm and inviting.’ This time, he’s not looking at my face, his gaze glued to the open place between my splayed legs. As though to reinforce the point, he slicks the very point of his tongue between my legs.
I squirm beneath him; my clit is still sensitive from my orgasm, and my pussy swollen from his fingers. I twist the lower half of my body away from his mouth, instinctively trying to pull my legs together.
Hetsks, a reproachful click of tongue and teeth, though his expression looks anything other than pissed.
‘I thought we agreed I was in charge,’ he says all growly, setting my nerve endings alight.
I open my mouth to respond, a whimper hitting the air as he bites the soft skin of my right thigh. The smarting sensation throbs in time with the building pulse between my legs.
‘Stay still.’
A couple of licks and a few deft flicks, and I’m cresting the wave again, my insides tightening, my hands gripped tight against the wood. And he kisses me,God,how he kisses me. Each press of his lips a little more desperate, a little deeper, until his tongue is entering me like a lover’s kiss. I cry out, needing more, digging my heels into the bed as leverage, thrusting myself into his face.
And then Will just... loses it. Loses himself in me. Grunting, he pushes my thighs wide and flat against the bed, spreads me open with his big hands as he begins fucking me with his tongue. We’re loud, so loud, as he works me, the lewd sound of wet flesh, of sucking and grunting, joining the sounds of my pleasure as I cry out.
Spread out on the conference table was good, the threat of being caught giving the experience a forbidden edge. But this, this is something different. Something consuming. My nipples are hard and aching; I want to touch them but don’t want him to stop.
His complete ownership of my body, and the intense motions of flicking tongue and kissing lips. The brush of stubble, and his teeth threatening my clit. His whispered words of how I taste like summer fruit.
Of how he can’t wait to be inside me.
To fuck me. To fill me.
To own me so completely...
I don’t hear anything else—don’t see anything else—as I cease to exist.
‘Just look at you. Fuck, just look at you.’
When I come to, Will’s face is hovering over me. He stands at the side of the bed, unbuttoning his fly as he simultaneously slides the drawer of the nightstand open.
I wonder what he has in there. Toys. The man has toys. And rope, I’ll bet. And lube, not that I currently need any, lying here soaking wet.
‘Hey.’ His soft word brings my attention back to him, guided by the finger he lays against my cheek. ‘You okay there?’ I nod, not sure I still have a voice to answer him, never mind find the words to make sense.
Fuck drunk.I’ve hear the idiom, of course. This is what I must be—fuck drunk. And like a self-respecting drunk, I’ll keep my mouth closed so as not to give my condition away.
He drops a couple of condoms next to the lamp, throwing another on the bed next to my hip, but I don’t really pay attention to the implication of the numbers thing as he slides his jeans from his hips, kicking them across the floor.
Shoulders. Abs. thighs. Will has all of these, but we’d already been introduced. But this beast he holds in his hand, we’ve only had a very brief introduction so far.
In the car.
