Page 65

She comes staring straight at me. Her mouth falls open and her eyes go wide and glassy, but she doesn't look away once. Her whole body seizes, and a cry breaks loose from deep in her chest.

She rides my hand in short, helpless jerks. Her pussy clamps down on my fingers in hard, rolling waves, so tight I can feel her pulse pounding around them, and slick heat coats my palm. Her bound hands claw at my jeans. Her knees never leave the quilt.

She gasps my name, again and again, like she hates me for every second of it.

When the last spasm fades, she sags forward against my leg, breathing hard. I draw my fingers out of her slowly. She shudders at the slide of them, and she clenches one last time, weakly, like she's trying to keep them.

I stand, take her by the hips, and lift her onto her feet. Her legs are unsteady.

I kick the quilt aside, turn her, and lay her back across the end of the bed. Her hips sit at the edge, and her bare feet rest on the floorboards. Her shirt spreads open on the mattress.

I take the steel bar out of the bag.

"This goes on your ankles. You can't close your legs while it's on."

"Yes."

I kneel on the floor and buckle a strap around each ankle. The bar holds her feet planted wide.

I put a hand on the inside of each knee and press them farther apart, until her thighs are open as far as her hips will let them go.

From down here, I can see all of her. She's flushed dark and swollen from my hand, glistening from one thigh to the other. She's still clenching on nothing, and the backs of her thighs tremble against the edge of the mattress.

I lean in and lick her once, slow, from the bottom of her slit to her clit, with my tongue pressed flat so I get every bit of her. She tastes like salt and heat and everything I just did to her.

She bucks hard. Her heels jerk against the straps, and the bar scrapes across the floorboards and holds her open.

I stand over her. I toe off my boots, strip my shirt over my head, and unbuckle my belt slowly, pulling the leather through the loops while she watches from the bed. Her eyes follow my hands, and her tongue touches her lower lip.

I shove my jeans and briefs down together and kick them away. My cock springs free, thick and hard against my stomach, the head flushed dark and already wet. Her breath catches when she sees it.

I step between her knees and gather her clipped cuffs into my left fist. I press them against her stomach, below her ribs, and pin them there. Her hands are trapped in my grip, and the rest of her is spread open in front of me.

"Nothing between us," I say.

She answers with a nod and an unsteady breath.

I take my cock in my right hand and drag the head up and down through her until it's coated in her. Then I set it at her opening and push in, one long, slow stroke, bare.

She's scalding hot inside, slick and tight, and she grips me inch by inch as I sink into her. It's her skin on mine. I've only ever had her through latex. Now I feel every ripple and flutter of her.

I groan out loud before I can stop it. She hears it, and her eyes go wide.

Standing over her, I watch her stretch around the thick base of me as I bottom out. When I draw back, my cock comes out of her shining wet, and her swollen lips cling to me as I go. Her stomach tightens under my fist each time I hit the end of her, and her breasts shake with every stroke.

Her feet push against my floor and can't get her anywhere. She can't close her legs, and she can't reach for me. She lies spread open on my bed and takes every inch I give her, and she looks up at me while she does.

I let go of her cuffs. "Hands stay right there." They do.

I take the steel bar in both hands, lift it over my head, and settle it behind my neck. Her feet come up off the floor, and her calves lie along my shoulders, so the weight of her legs rides on me, not on the straps. Her hips stay on the edge of the mattress, tipped up to me.

I take her clipped cuffs in my left fist again and press them to her stomach. I spread my right hand across her hip and hold her exactly where I want her.

With her legs up, the next stroke sinks deeper than I've been all night. The head of my cock hits the end of her, and a raw, high sound tears out of her.

"You wrote it down," I tell her. "You signed it. This is what you signed for."

"Knox."