Page 86 of Roped

So it comes as a surprise, a shock really, when I hear another rip. It isn’t as loud or even as forceful as that of my panties getting torn. This tear is quieter and smoother, and it’s the sleeves of my dress being ripped. By him while he’s kissing me sweetly. He’s taking my mouth slowly, wetly, hotly. With his tongue licking and fucking and going in and out of me. And the contrast is what gets to me this time, sweet kisses and violent actions, more than him ripping my dress off like a caveman. Once he’s gotten rid of the sleeves, the rest of my dress is easy. It’s only held up because it’s soaked and sticking to my body so still kissing me, he pushes it down, right alongside my strapless bra, and suddenly, I’m naked.

My bare skin is rubbing against his soaked shirt and the sensation makes me shiver. Before I can contend with that, he starts walking again. He takes me farther into the barn that I don’t get to see because I’m busy kissing him and then, he’s bending over and from the looks of it, lowering me onto the bed. The feel of his cool sheets on my naked back also makes me shiver, but his bed is so soft that I sigh happily. Still kissing me, he pushes down my dress the rest of the way until I’m completely and absolutely naked. He settles between my thighs as his mouth moves over my jaw and the side of my neck, kissing, licking, sucking, probably leaving marks like he told me he would. His hands are moving, too, going up and down my sides, squeezing my waist, stroking the sides of my breasts, making me lose my mind. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hug his sides with my thighs, his soaked jeans scraping against my skin.

Which is when I realize something.

My eyes open and I push at his shoulder. “Radisson? I think…”

The rest of my sentence disappears into a loud moan because I feel his teeth over my pulse and his thumb over my nipple, flicking it. God, that felt so good. And it’s so easy to lose sight of what I was going to say, but somehow, I manage to hold on to my wits and push at him again.

He doesn’t even pause. He’s now at my collarbone, his hands grabbing my waist, but of course spanning my entire belly because his hands are so large and sexy.

Again, I twist under him, pushing at his chest. “Radisson, l-listen. Please, I—”

All of a sudden, he captures my hands and pins them on the pillow, on either side of my head, growling. It’s loud and menacing. Just as his face and eyes as he looks down at me. He’s propped up on his hands, hovering over me as his chest goes up and down violently. Panting, he says, “You tryna fuck with me?”

I frown for a second before I realize what he means. What it must look like to him and I shake my head quickly. “Oh gosh, no. I didn’t—”

The clench of his jaw is so tight that I feel the ache in mine before he growls again, “So why the fuck are you interruptin’ me when I’m this close to finally, Jesus fuckin’ Christ finally, tastin’ your tits?”

I blush. “Oh.”

Another clench of his jaw that’s just as hard before he leans down, his chest grazing mine with his large breaths. “You know I want that, don’t you? I wanna suck on your tits. Like I wanna suck on other parts of you. Told you that, remember? Can’t possibly be a mystery to you now, not after everythin’.”

“No, I know. It’s not that. It’s just—”

He squeezes my wrists. “But if it ain’t clear to you, you should know that my mouth fuckin’ waters every time you walk by in one of your itty-bitty dresses, flashin’ your titties at me, makin’ them bounce with every step you take. You should know, Princess, that my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth and my throat dries out. I get so goddamn thirsty and not for water. For drinkin’ from your tits. That a clear enough picture for you?”

I’m a panting, writhing mess under him, so wet and swollen between my legs. So swollen up on my tits too. But he’s not done yet. He has more to say, more wonderful things to blow my mind with.

“But I’ll stop,” he growls, his eyes grave. “I’ll fuckin’ stop. If you want me to. You gotta know that, right? I ain’t like the other men in your life. So if you changed your mind and don’t want me anymore, I’ll do it. For you. But if this is some sick fuckin’ joke you tryna play on me, you gotta know, I’ve got flames lickin’ up my insides the longer I stay away from you. So which is it, darlin’, yes or motherfuckin’ no?”

“Yes,” I say immediately, and he breathes out. “I just want to taste you too.”

He draws back.

I lick my lips. “I want to see you too.”

Finally, he understands what I mean. He’s not the only one waiting for this, I have been too. And I’m dying to taste his hot skin. See his hot skin, every inch of it. I want him to take his clothes off too. But something happens to him at this. For a few seconds I don’t understand what exactly. I’ve never seen that expression on his face. Those eyes flared, his scar raised and taut, his mouth parted.

In a flash, it occurs to me then. This is fear. He’s afraid. But… it makes no sense. Why would he be afraid of this?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“RADISSON?”

At my voice, he jerks away from me. He lets my hands go and gets up and off my body. I jackknife on the bed, come up to my knees, naked and all, as I watch him get ahold of himself and back away from the bed. There’s not a lot of light in his space, something I’m only now realizing when my world has expanded and he isn’t my ground and my sky. But still, I can make out the tensed lines of his body. I can see his fisted hands at his sides, the way his stance is wide as if battle-ready.

His eyes are locked with mine and I ask, “What’s wrong?”

He moves his jaw back and forth, his nostrils flaring, his chest jerking up and down. But other than that, he stays silent.

“Talk to me,” I urge, knowing that’s the hardest part for him and not just because of his long-ago injury.

His eyes flash and his breaths speed up. I want to go over to him, wrap him in my arms, but I stay put. I don’t want to spook him when he already looks so scared.

God, what is it, Radisson?

“Please, baby,” I whisper. “Tell me.”