What was he going to do to me?
I hurried through the dark to my tool shed, where I knew I had some thick cotton rope left over from stringing the hammock. My heart was beating fast, both from nerves and excitement. I wanted to follow through with this, but I also hoped my brain wouldn’t trip itself up. Indulge Bondage Fantasy with Skylar Nixon wasn’t on the SUDS list, but it was definitely something I’d imagined and never thought I’d have the nerve to try.
It was a risk, but I was getting better about taking those.
After picking up the wine glasses off the patio, I went around to the front door, solely for the purpose of making Skylar wait and wonder a little longer. She was so fucking adorable, and the look on her face when I’d told her to go up and wait for me was priceless.
I fucking loved that she liked to talk dirty, to fantasize out loud, to play a little. I’d never been with anyone like her before, and I’d never felt comfortable enough with anyone else to show that side of myself. Given my struggle with guilt and shame, I was always so worried that they’d think I was sexually aberrant or perverse.
Although I felt a little perverted right now, sneaking in my own front door with coiled rope in my hand, setting the glasses on the table and switching off all the lights. Why did I even have this fantasy, this desire to render her helpless for the purpose of pleasure?
Don’t fucking overthink this, Pryce. Just do it.
I climbed the ladder slowly, drawing out the suspense. When I reached the top, I found her sitting primly on the edge of the bed with her hands in her lap, legs together and feet flat on the floor. She hadn’t turned on the light, and since the night was slightly overcast, the moon didn’t offer much in the way of illumination either. Still, her eyes went right to the rope in my hand, and I heard her breath catch.
But she didn’t ask.
God, she was so fucking perfect. My heart was hammering, and the crotch of my pants was hot and tight. I set the rope on the nightstand and slipped off my jacket, tossing it next to her on the bed.
“Did I tell you how much I like your shoes tonight?” I said, removing my cuff links. After slipping them into my pocket, I cuffed my sleeves, fighting the urge to rip off that black dress, throw her legs in the air, and fuck her into oblivion with my hands wrapped around her ankles.
She shook her head.
“I love them.” Moving closer to her, I switched on the bedside lamp.
“Thank you.” She looked up at me, her eyes wide and trusting, but just a little bit worried.
“Are you nervous, angel?”
She glanced at the rope on the table. “Maybe a little.”
Was she playing or serious? She was an actress, after all. Maybe she knew how hot it was to play the innocent. Either way, her answer made my cock even harder. I tipped her chin up. “Stand up.”
She stood and gazed up at me through her lashes.
“Turn around.”
She presented me with her back, and I moved her hair aside and slowly unzipped her dress. Black lace appeared as the two sides separated, and my breath stopped.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a corset.”
“With straps?”
“Yes. It keeps everything smooth and in place under a fitted dress like this…plus I like nice underwear.” She shimmied the dress down her arms and legs and stepped out of it, laying it on the bed.
My legs felt like they might give out—below the corset, which laced up the back, she wore a matching black thong. I let my eyes wander from her long blonde hair to the cinching of the corset to the perfect ivory curves of her ass down her slender legs to those fuck-me-I’m-adorable heels. Jesus. I don’t care what anyone says, NO MAN is good enough to deserve this.
But since I was here.
I moved up behind her and kissed her back, rubbing my lips softly against her skin. Her perfume was slightly floral, slightly sweet, like orange blossoms, and I inhaled, taking her scent into my head and chest. “You smell good enough to eat,” I said, running my hands down her arms from shoulder to fingers. “But first…” Pausing to grab the coil of rope from the nightstand, I brought her hands behind her back and crossed her wrists. As I wound the rope around them, I spoke to her in a low, soft voice. “You’re so beautiful, angel. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. That kind of beauty has a strange power over men—it makes us feel strong and yet weak. Protective of it and yet defenseless against it.” Her breath was coming faster, her chest rising and falling. I completed the knot and turned her to face me. “Does that make sense?”
She swallowed. “I don’t know.”
I slipped my fingers into her hair and lowered my mouth to hers, tasting her lips with my tongue. It made me hungry. I dropped to my knees in front of her, as all men should. “Open your legs.”
She widened her stance and I kissed my way up each inner thigh, dragging my rough jaw along her smooth skin. “You have to remain standing. That’s my rule.” Then I put my lips on that black lace, fastening my mouth on her pussy, my hands running up the backs of her legs.
She whimpered, her legs trembling. “Oh God, oh God. Your mouth…”
I worked the little scrap of lace aside with my tongue, keeping my hands on her ass. She tasted like honey and oranges and I couldn’t get enough. Burying my face between her legs, I plunged my tongue inside her and then stroked it up her center, finally moving the lace aside with my hand so I could get at her clit.
The second I licked it, her knees buckled a little. I circled her thighs with my arms to hold her up as she moaned and cursed me.
“Enough, please,” she begged. “I can’t stand anymore.”
“Come for me, and I’ll let you lie down,” I whispered.
“I don’t know if I can, standing like this. My legs…” Her tone was pleading, desperate.
“You want to come. I know you do. Come on, angel.” I circled her clit with my tongue, sucked it into my mouth. I did all the things I’d done the other night that had made her gasp and sigh and moan, slipping two fingers in side her and twisting them the way she liked. The knowledge of her body, of her mind, intoxicated me. I know what makes her come.
And I did make her come, her pussy clenching around my fingers, her voice crying out in waves that matched the rhythmic spasms. When her legs finally gave way, I flipped her onto her stomach so her upper body lay across the bed, bound wrists at the small of her back. Her slender arms were pale against the black satin corset. God, her ass is all mine. And fuck, those legs. Those shoes. “Don’t move,” I told her, yanking her wet underwear off. Then I stood and unbuckled my belt, undid my pants.
“Yes,” she panted. “I want it.”
“Yes, what? What exactly do you want, angel?” Oh Jesus, I would probably go to hell for tying up Skylar Nixon and making her beg me to fuck her.
But right now, my soul’s eternal damnation seemed a pretty fair price.
“I want you, Sebastian,” she said breathlessly. “I want you to fuck me. Hard.”
“Hard?” I took my dick in my hand, stroking it as I took in the image of her bent over my bed, hands tied, legs straight, feet apart. I teased her pussy with the tip, smearing wetness from front to back, sliding it in the crack of her ass.
“Yes.” Her eyes were closed, her mouth open.
“Apologize.”
“Huh?” Her eyes popped open.
“Apologize,” I growled, pushing inside her. “For being so beautiful. For making me want you so badly. For breaking me down. For making me so fucking hard for you all the time.” Words slipped from my mouth as I grabbed her hips and thrust slowly in and out. “From the moment I saw you again, I knew you could undo me. I knew I should stay away from you, but I couldn’t. I can’t. The only thing I can do is make you mine.”