“How about if I give you a lesson in binding right now?”
She shook her head, but he’d already clamped his hands on her ass and lifted her onto the countertop.
A startled eep escaped her, followed by, “You can’t just—”
“I can, I will, and I did. Don’t argue, or I’ll gag you.”
He reached for the cotton dish towel the same time his other hand latched on to her throat below her jawline. “Stay just like this. Palms flat, wrists together behind you.”
Amery threw her shoulders back and glared at him—but she obeyed him.
“Lose that surly look and get with the program. You brought it on yourself.” Ronin took advantage of her rigid pink nipple peeking out from her robe and sucked it hard while his hands worked. This basic hojojutsu tie was child’s play; he didn’t need to watch as he bound her wrists.
But Little Miss Feisty tested the binding anyway.
He placed her heels on the edge of the counter. She was stable, but it wasn’t a comfortable pose she could relax into.
“Hold still.” Ronin tugged on the ends of her robe tie and pushed her knee out as he wrapped the silk around her ankle. Then he did the same thing on the other side. With the belt anchored in the small of her back. When he looked up at his smart-mouthed lover, her jaw hung open.
“You tied me up that fast?”
“Baby, I am a professional. Technically this is called a crab tie, and your hands should be attached to the ankle binding, but I improvised.”
No defiant look entered her eyes. Just heat.
“Now, if you attempt to move your feet, you’ll just pull yourself forward. Wouldn’t want you to fall off the counter. Not with what I’ve got planned for you.” He permitted a smile. He peeled back the edges of her robe and feasted his eyes on her. Then he flattened his palms on her chest and slowly slid them down her torso. “I love this flush on your skin. Heat and dew. Wonder where else you’re dewy?”
Keeping his gaze fastened to hers, he dragged his thumb up and down her slit. “You wet because you love blowing me? Or because I showed you I can tie you up anytime I want?”
“Both.”
“Good answer.” Ronin brought his thumb to his mouth, sucking her juices. “Tangy. A little salty. Delicious.” He snagged her drink and curbed his smile when her eyes widened. “Didn’t you just say sweet goes well with salty?”
“What are you doing?”
“Adding a little more cream.” He held the glass below her chin and tipped it over her chest.
Amery expelled a loud gasp when the cold drink hit her skin.
The white liquid ran down her body pretty fast but not in the path he wanted. So he poured more.
She gasped louder when the cold drink flowed over her mound and her pussy.
It was tempting to fish an ice cube out of the glass and torture her nipples until they were icy and then suck the sting away with his hot mouth, but he needed to taste her like this.
Ronin tilted the glass one more time. But this time he chased the white line with his mouth. Sucking the tiny bit that’d pooled in the hollow of her throat, straight down between her breasts, over her quivering abdomen. Sucking the sticky cream from her small patch of pubic hair, getting a full taste of her musk sweetened by the drink.
He tongued her clit ruthlessly until the inside of her thighs trembled. Then he spread her pussy lips with his thumbs and buried his mouth in her.
Amery’s soft cries barely registered; he was so lost in sucking every bit of sweetness from her cunt. The more he licked and flicked his tongue over her every soft, sensitive fold and her tight opening, the more cream poured from her.
When she arched hard against his mouth, he pushed open the hood hiding her clit with his teeth and suckled that swollen nub until her entire sex pulsed and she screamed.
And it was the scream and panting moans that had him growling against her throbbing tissues. His cock throbbed in response.
As soon as her orgasm ended, he said, “Baby, look at me.”
She tilted her chin down and opened her eyes.
Ronin pressed his mouth to hers, sharing the taste of her passion and her drink.
Amery licked the inside of his lips. Sucked his tongue. Turning him fucking inside out with the need to have her—be in her, be on her—again and again.
After he broke the lip-lock, he murmured, “You’re so fucking sexy. I can’t get enough of you. Hold on.”
He ditched his pants and turned her so she was completely on the counter. Then he climbed up between her thighs and balanced on his haunches, ignoring the throb in his knee. He scooped her ass cheeks into his hands, keeping her body angled, raising her up just high enough so he could lean forward and lodge his cock into her.
At the first thrust, he watched her, expecting she’d ask if he was in any pain, given their position. But all he saw was dark desire in her eyes. Her tits bounced with every hard plunge.
The quiet between them added to the eroticism. Sometimes silence spoke louder than any play-by-play. They were so in tune—breathing, heart rate, and their movements—that Ronin began a tantric rhythm. Putting only his cock head inside her, then pulling out, then slamming deep and holding himself at full penetration for two seconds. He built that short-long-hold tempo, starting at one stroke and building to nine. By the time they reached the seventh set of nine, they were both covered in sweat and the need for release pulsed in the air.
During the eighth set, Amery made a soft whimper, and Ronin placed his hand on her heart—the anahata chakra.
At that pinnacle moment when they climbed up to the last set of nine, he slid his hand down and stroked her clit.
She shattered.
Being seated inside her to the root, without moving, he felt every contraction of her pussy muscles clear into his balls as she milked his orgasm.
And even in the intense moment with the pulsing and connection consuming him, his head counted to nine.
Nine pulses of her clit beneath his finger.
Nine pulls of her inner muscles.
Nine bursts of heat shooting from his cock.
His head fell back. He seemed to float outside his body, yet he’d never been more grounded.
When his senses returned, he glanced down at her.
She blinked at him with sated, sleepy eyes. “What the hell was that, Master Black?”
Heaven. “Tantric circle of nine.”
Ronin lowered her butt to the counter and broke the connection of their bodies. Then he ran his palms up her torso, gently cupping her breasts. “You’re beautiful.”
“So are you.” She tried to level out her breathing. “Is there any eastern philosophy or discipline you’re unfamiliar with?”
He swept his thumbs over her nipples. “I lived in a monastery for four years. I studied and trained. That’s all there was to do.”
“That tantric thing cannot be learned from reading a book.”
“Do you really want to talk about those lessons now?” A pierc- ing pain shot through his knee, and he ducked his head to hide his wince, focusing on undoing the knots at Amery’s ankles. “Any pain?” he asked as he gently rubbed her anklebones and her calves.
“No, because I can’t feel my arms.”
He slowly pulled her upright by the shoulders and unbound her wrists. “Tell me when it starts to tingle.”
“Now.”
Fuck. He should’ve paid more attention to—
“Ronin, I’m fine.”
He nuzzled her neck, filling his lungs with the scent of her skin as he rubbed circulation back into her arms. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. That was so intense I forgot I even had arms.”
“We were sort of on another plane, weren’t we?”
“You’ve got lots of . . . sex moves that I’ve never heard of, don’t you?”