She bit her lip against the urge to squirm.
“Good. Control the need to move as much as possible. Part of this process is trust, Kate. You need to trust that I won’t hurt you. That I only want to bring you pleasure.”
She did trust him, even on their short acquaintance.
Nodding, she let her gaze drop to his hands as he fingered the pile of cloth.
He picked up the red silk, ran it through his hands, then looped it around her closest wrist.
The material felt cool against her skin but heated fast when he tied it securely around her wrist. Her shoulder bent as he tugged her arm up closer to the bedpost, the sensation of being vulnerable increasing.
Still, she managed to keep her mouth closed even though she wanted to say something, anything, to relieve just a little bit of the tension building in the room.
Although, why she wanted to do that . . .
Just call her contrary.
And a little out of her comfort zone.
But isn’t that what she wanted? To step out of her comfort zone?
Tyler moved to her ankle, pulling a length of peach satin from the pile. This time he gave a little tug as he tied the piece to the post, stretching her body just a little farther.
More air evaporated from the room, and now she knew she wouldn’t be able to take her eyes off of him, even if she tried.
On the other side of the bed, he picked a matching piece of peach satin to tie off her other foot. His fingers lingered on her ankle for a few seconds before he began to drag them up her shin. Light enough to raise goose bumps. Her legs instinctively tried to close, and the fact that she couldn’t increased her desire.
Her sex, still sensitive from earlier, felt almost painfully so now. She needed something to fill it, whether it was his finger or his tongue or his cock.
“Tyler, I need—Oh!”
He did exactly what she wanted, stuffed two fingers inside her sheath. No warning. No hesitation.
“No speaking, Kate.”
He removed his fingers just as quickly, leaving her panting with lust. And when he continued to trail those two fingers up her body, she felt her own moisture, wet against her skin.
She bit her lip, trying to hold in the whimpers. She refused to be reduced to a pile of quivering flesh so soon. She was stronger than this.
He made fast work of her other wrist with the black satin then stood back, as if to admire his handiwork.
She felt tight all over but in no pain from the bindings. Even so, she tugged on them. The air felt cooler than it had, but that was probably her imagination. Or the fact that she felt like she was burning up.
Then he picked up the black lace.
“Now I want you to close your eyes. This will only affect your vision. It won’t block it completely. You can open them when I’m done. Trust me, Kate.”
That was so not the problem right now. She wanted him to hurry. She felt like a bottle of pop he’d shaken for hours, corked and ready to explode.
It should’ve embarrassed her, how fast she snapped her eyes shut.
But she couldn’t be bothered to care because he was tying the knot at the back of her head now.
“You look beautiful. You can open your eyes or you might want to keep them closed for a little while yet and just feel.”
The bed shook and she felt his knees brush her hips just before his hands landed on her breasts.
Cupping them, he plumped the small mounds, pinching the nipples, making her arch off the bed, at least as far as she could. She only had so much leeway with the bindings.
He played with her breasts for several long minutes, as if he were fascinated by them. When he bent and put his mouth on her, she choked out a sigh.
Yes. There.
His lips closed around one hard tip, sucking it into his mouth and flicking at it with his tongue. The sensation lit through her like a steady pulse of electricity. The heat from his mouth then the cool of his breath as he pulled back to blow on her wet skin drove her closer to achieving something she never had before—an orgasm simply from having someone suck on her breasts.
She knew, somewhere deep in the part of her brain that was still capable of thought, that it was almost more mental than physical. Sure, the sensation was necessary, beyond pleasurable. But the mental stimulation from knowing it was Tyler and the deprivation of her sight combined to make her nearly frantic.
Almost as if he could read her mind—more likely, he could read her body language—Tyler spent several long minutes at her breasts, alternating his attention between them. His tongue felt like wet sandpaper, her nipples peaked and throbbing beneath it.
She tried not to writhe too much, didn’t want to dislodge him, but she needed more.
Needed—
Yes.
He bit her, hard enough that she felt it between her legs. Hard enough to give her that orgasm she’d been reaching for.
She moaned as her sex clenched with tiny contractions then nearly jumped out of her skin when Tyler tapped her mound, catching her clit with one finger.
“So beautiful. You’re so fucking beautiful, Kate. I’m gonna make you come again, sweetheart.”
She opened her mouth to tell him to hurry up but before she could get the words out, he tapped her again, harder this time.
And she came with a strangled cry. Short and sharp and still not enough.
Vaguely, she realized he was moving again, his knees now shifting between her legs.
“Lift up.” He tapped her hip and she moved without a thought. A second later, he shoved a pillow beneath her hips.
The feeling of exposure intensified and she could barely hold in a moan.
“Kate. Are you okay?”
She had to take in a breath before she could speak. “I’m fine.”
“Good. Because I’m going to fuck you now. Open your eyes.”
She did, immediately. And blinked at the distortion of her sight by the lace.
Just as Tyler began to work his cock inside her.
As she sought to make out his form above her, her body fought his intrusion, even though she wanted it so desperately.
His cockhead breached her lips, lodging in the narrow channel that desperately tried to pull him deeper. She felt so empty.
But instead of thrusting hard and fast like he had before and as she needed, he worked himself inside centimeter by centimeter.
Her hands twisted until she had her fingers wrapped around the material at her wrists, trying to leverage herself closer, force him deeper.
He retreated immediately. “I didn’t say you could move.” Grabbing her hips, he forced her to hold still. “I promise if you stay still, you’ll get what you want. On my terms. But you will get what you need.”
His words only made her burn hotter, made her pant with the intensity of it. But it also made that doubt surge forward as well. That little hint of fear that she couldn’t quite rid herself of.
She felt like she was being pushed closer to an edge she might never come back from.
“Kate. Are you still okay?”
“Yes.” Or she would be. “I’m fine.”
She felt him pause, but only for a few seconds. Finally, he breached her again, deeper this time but still just as slowly.
Staring up at him through the lace, she could barely make out his features. But it was enough to push her back from that edge.
“Move, damn it. I need you to.”
“I’ll move, sweetheart.” And he did, so slowly, she thought she felt every square inch of his flesh against her own. “But I’m taking my own sweet time. No way will I rush this when I have you right where I want you.”
His voice stroked over her, in concert with his hands that caressed her hips. Relentlessly, he pushed inside, filling her until she felt she couldn’t stretch any more.