She would have liked to stay there, licking, sucking, driving him crazy and doing her best to make him come in her mouth. But she wasn’t here for sexual pleasure. Or not only sexual pleasure.
Giving him a blow job, as enjoyable as it might be for both of them, wasn’t going to get her any closer to her goal. And there was no time-or sperm-to waste.
With a last long, slow swirl of her tongue, she released him and rose, shifting so that she hovered just above his upward-pointing erection.
She didn’t have to check her own readiness; she was already wet, almost embarrassingly so. Wrapping her fingers around the base of his erection, she centered the large, plum-shaped head at her opening and slowly lowered herself down his entire length.
He was big, filling her completely, and she bit her lip while her body stretched to accommodate him. It didn’t hurt exactly, but she’d been celibate for so long that there was a modicum of discomfort, a moment when she needed to remind her-self to relax and let him in.
He’d had that effect on her the first couple of times they’d been together, too, she remembered. It had taken a while for her to get used to the sensation of having him inside her, but she’d liked it. He’d hit her in all the right spots, the same as he was doing now.
“You don’t want me to stop, do you?” she asked, her voice shaky and breathless and not much louder than a whisper.
She rose up on her knees, letting him slide partially free. The friction alone sent the air stuttering from her lungs and she nearly whimpered. Gage, she was satisfied to notice, curled his fingers into fists, pulling slightly at the ties that held his wrists.
“Untie me,” he rasped.
Her hair bounced when she shook her head. Gliding back down, her internal muscles squeezing and thrumming around him, she barely managed to say, “I like it this way. And you do, too. I can tell.”
She continued to move on him. Small, almost imperceptible motions that brought her up and down, forward and back, side to side. She could feel him flexing beneath her, bucking in time with her movements.
Given his strength and bulk, Jenna had no doubt that if he really, truly wanted to break free, he could. She’d wrapped the feathery boas around his ankles and wrists several times, making them as strong as she could without cutting of his circulation, but they were still just strips of yarn, and he was six-feet-three-inches, two-hundred-plus-pounds of pure muscle.
He was fighting the urge, though, she could see it in his eyes. Whatever he thought of her little game and the tricks it had taken to get him here, he was more interested in letting her finish what she’d started.
Thank goodness, because at this point, she just might cry herself if he left her.
Pressing her mouth to his, she kissed him, startled when he kissed her back.
What this man could do to her without the use of his hands she suspected other men couldn’t do with a dozen.
When their mouths parted, they were both out of breath, and she was pretty sure she knew what his answer was going to be. She asked anyway, her lips continuing to brush against his.
“Do you want me to stop, Gage? Or do you want me to keep doing what I’m doing? Riding you. Fucking you.”
His cock flexed inside her, showing its approval of both her language and her continued gyrations on his lap.
For the most part, she was a good girl. Not quite Pollyanna, but close. She swore only occasionally in the presence of close acquaintances and was exceptionally careful of her word choices when it came to working with her young students.
But sex with Gage didn’t count. With him, she’d always been a little wild and a lot uninhibited. He liked it when she talked dirty… and she liked it because of the response it evoked in him.
A muscle ticced in his jaw. His molars ground together. He continued to clench and unclench his fists where they were bound above him. When he spoke, his voice was sandpaper rough, but firm, and she knew there would be no turning back.
“Don’t stop,” he grated. His body echoed his sentiments, hips lifting to spur her on.
She smiled and kissed him again, letting her breasts rub seductively along his chest, and purposely gave him a small Kegel exercise that made him groan.
“Good answer,” she murmured before pushing herself up on his chest and into a sitting position.
Knees locked tight on either side of his thighs, she slowly began to angle her hips so that she moved forward and back on his hard length at the same time she rose and fell just slightly.
“And it feels even better,” she told him. Her hands were still flat at his waist, and she used them for leverage as she increased the speed of her movements. Just a bit. Just enough to add to the friction.
Gage licked his lips and swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing like a fishing lure in his throat.
“I forgot how big you are. How you fill me like no one else ever could.”
His pelvis rose up at the same time hers came down and she gasped, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out.
“And how right it feels.”
Her eyes slid closed as sensations continued to swamp her. Oh, how she’d like to believe she was in control. That she could maintain control no matter what.
But she wasn’t a fool, and she couldn’t lie to herself, even if she tried.
With Gage, she was never in control. Not entirely. Not when he touched her, kissed her, moved inside of her.
“I forgot how good this feels. How good you feel.”
He gave a low grunt and thrust his hips upward in a quick, stabbing motion as high as he could go. “Then for Christ’s sake, speed it up,” he growled.
A flare of heat burst low in her belly and spread out to every extremity. She wished he would do that again but was afraid if he did, it would all be over too soon.
He hadn’t been inside her for five full minutes yet, but already she was teetering on the edge. Completion was right there, within reach, and she could get there in a blink if she put her mind to it.
But then it would be done, and she’d really rather make it last. Maybe not all night… after all, she was kind of hoping for an encore later, if he was up to it and the boas held… but something that lasted more than five or ten minutes would be nice. If only to give her a longer memory to carry with her through the rest of her life.
“You don’t want to rush, do you?” Without even trying, she sounded as though she were channeling Marilyn Monroe.
Gage’s voice, however, was anything but soft, anything but yielding. “I want you to finish what you started. Finish what you dragged me in here and tied me up to do.”
A spurt of guilt thumped through her heart and caused it to skip a beat. “Please don’t be angry,” she said. Later he would be furious and demand answers, but until then…
Trailing her hands from his waist, she let them slide along her own thighs, then inside to lightly skim the triangle of dark curls surrounding him, over her belly and up to her breasts. They weren’t large, but they were perky and Gage had always claimed to find them fascinating.
He’d also liked to watch her touch herself, and she did so now, feeling his gaze lock on her like a heat-seeking missile. On her fingers where they cupped the small globes. On her thumbs as they coasted over her hard, raspberry nipples, making them pucker even more.
His chest rose and fell with his sharp, shallow breaths, and he was struggling beneath her now. Not to get free, but to get her to move, to drive deeper, to bring them both to a fast, fiery climax.
Bringing her right hand to her mouth, she licked the pads of her thumb and forefinger, then returned them to the same nipple to roll it between the damp digits. “Tell me what you want,” she ordered, her voice little more than a lacy wisp of breath. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
Knit 5