Page 29

Chapter Seventeen

Ivy

Silk fabric slid over my thighs as Tomas’ tongue thrust into my mouth, exposing my legs and then the gossamer-thin panties covering my pussy. I thought he might rip them from my body, or just pull them off, but instead he slipped his hand inside them. Somehow, leaving me covered so he could touch me underneath my clothing somehow felt filthier than if he’d stripped it from me.

I whimpered against his lips as his fingers found my softness, dipped between them, and encountered the slick stirrings of my desire. He shifted on the bed, kissing me more deeply, his other hand moving to cover my breast, as his fingers pushed into me. His hand was so big that his palm easily covered my pussy while two thick digits filled me, and when my hips jerked upward, my clit rubbed against the heel of his hand.

I moaned, shuddering, as he squeezed my breast, the silky fabric of the nightgown rubbing against the sensitive bud beneath it. My legs pressed together, trapping his hand, and he curled his fingers inside me, stroking a spot that left me gasping against his lips. He pinched my nipple, using the silk nightgown to rub either side of it, and my hips jerked against his hand again.

His fingers pushed deeper, working me, stroking me, all while the heel of his hand pressed against my clit, over and over again.

The tension wound tightly inside me, and I ached for him… I wanted his huge cock again. Wanted to feel him stretching me open.

The memory of him fucking me in the hotel room filled my head, the same helplessness of being bound to the bed was my current reality, and yet he was entirely focused on me. On my pleasure. Without taking anything for himself.

His fingers thrust harder, deeper, fucking me with them and arousing more of the memories of him inside me, even though it didn’t feel quite the same. He was ruthlessly calculated in how he touched me, as though he’d memorized every spot on my body that brought me pleasure.

The bed creaked as I pulled on my wrists, not because I was trying to escape, but because I wanted to reach for him. To touch him. To dig my fingers into his shoulders as my pleasure peaked. To hold onto him as I cried out against his lips, my hips moving, rubbing myself against his hand, my inner muscles squeezing his fingers over and over again as ecstasy assaulted my senses.

When he lifted his head, I was panting and breathless, my lips swollen from his kiss. My whole body buzzed and hummed as my muscles went lax.

Tomas’ gaze roved over my face and I stared up at him, still panting. His fingers still inside me. I clenched around him.

The slightest hint of a smile curved his lips and then he shifted again, pulling his fingers free. There was the sound of fabric tearing, and it took me a moment to realize that he had ripped the panties. He was moving down the bed, lifting my legs up so he could drape them over his shoulders.

I moaned as I realized his intention, trying to wriggle away, but his grip on my hips was too strong as he lowered his head between my thighs.

“Daddy, please, it’s too much, I—" I squealed as his tongue slid between my soaked pussy lips. “I’m too sensitive!”

It was nothing but the truth, but Tomas’ only response was my legs moving as he shrugged his shoulders and delved in. I cried out, trying to squirm away from his insistent tongue, but with him pinning me in place and my hands bound, there was nowhere for me to go.

My toes curled as he began feasting on my pussy, despite my protests, licking and suckling, sending waves of pleasure through my overwrought system. My head thrashed back and forth as his forearm pinned me down and his other hand reached up to cover the breast that had so far remained untouched.

He squeezed the soft flesh, pinching my nipple, sending a flash of pain through the rising pleasure. It felt so good.

Another climax was coming, faster than the first one, and I moved my hips up and down, shamelessly rubbing my pussy against his mouth as the need to get away from the stimulation was swapped with an ache for another culmination.

This time when I cried out, there was no kiss to muffle the sound, and I moaned and sobbed freely as the rapture took me to new heights. When I went limp this time, I felt utterly exhausted. Panting for breath. Wrung out. I wouldn’t have had the muscles to try and attempt an escape even if I wasn’t tied to the bed.

But Tomas wasn’t done with me.

His hand moved away from my breast as he lifted his head.

I looked down my body at him, over the silky mounds of my breasts, my nipples still stiffly pushing against the fabric, and the pool of white silk around my hips. Our gazes met and he licked his lips. His dark eyes blazed.

He wanted me.

I whimpered. I could not possibly take another orgasm.

But then I felt his fingers at my pussy again. He pushed them inside me.

I moaned, closing my eyes and letting my head drop back, aware that there was nothing I could do to stop him if he was so determined.

Then my eyes flew open again as his fingers slid from my pussy and pushed against the smaller, crinkled hole beneath it. No one had ever touched me there.

“Stop!” I tried to squirm away, which was as useless an attempt as it had been before. “What are you doing?!”

The lack of answer should not have surprised me.