she wanted never had. But that hadn’t stopped her from wanting it.
She had no idea what he would do next. No idea what to expect.
He slid his tie from his shoulders, the stretch of black silk held taut between both of his hands. “You aren’t allowed to come until I say you can,” he said. “And you can’t touch me,” he said, his voice lowering, “until I allow it.”
“But...”
“Shhh,” he said, leaning forward, touching the stretch of black silk to her lips, like he meant to gag her with it. “No talking.” Then he moved the tie, laying it over her eyes. “I like that idea,” he said. “But I need to be able to hear you if you need me to.” He lifted the tie higher, to where her hands were resting above her head. The position had seemed natural to her. And now she understood why.
He slipped the expanse of silk behind her wrists and then wrapped it around one, then the other, before binding them together. She knew that if she told him no, he would stop. So she said nothing. Because she wanted it. Because she liked the element of feeling as though he’d done it without her permission.
He rose up above her. “So beautiful. And mine,” he said. He put his hands on her legs and pushed them even farther apart, his gaze roaming over her. “All mine.” He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to the tender skin on her inner thigh before moving on to more intimate territory.
He began to pleasure her with his mouth again, pushing one finger inside of her, then another, pushing her higher, closer to the edge before stopping, pulling back.
She wanted to tell him to stop. That it was too much. But then he would stop, like he’d promised, and she didn’t want that, either.
She bit her lip, flexed her hips, tried to force herself closer to him.
“No,” he said, sliding his tongue over her clit. “You aren’t in charge here, sweetheart. I am. Stop trying to break the rules.”
He withdrew his fingers from her body and slid them upward, white-hot pleasure spiking through her as he did. “Open,” he said, and she did. “Suck on them for me.”
This was a test. To see if she would obey. And she wouldn’t fail his test. She opened for him and he slipped his fingers between her lips and she could taste her own pleasure on them. Could taste the evidence of what he’d done to her.
She ran her tongue along his fingers as he pushed them in her mouth and out again and she felt him shudder, the muscles in his body tensing.
He reached around behind her head, braced one hand on her neck, grabbed the end of his tie with the other and brought her into a sitting position, with her hands neatly in her lap. Still bound.
“On your knees,” he said, drawing back and getting off of the bed, his hands working at the belt on his slacks.
He placed the belt on the edge of the mattress, his movements just as controlled and methodical now as they’d been when he undid his cuffs and tie.
He moved to unbutton his shirt, working silently as he released the buttons, exposing a wedge of tan skin. He shrugged the shirt from his broad shoulders, muscles shifting with the motion.
She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. Off of each sharply defined line. How each movement sent off a ripple effect through his torso. He straightened and her eyes locked on to the dark hair that covered his chest and ran in a line down the center of his perfectly defined abs. Just enough to remind her that he was a man, not enough to conceal up all those gorgeous muscles.
She wanted to touch him. But she was still tied.
“I said on your knees,” he repeated.
She repositioned herself, her hands in front of her, her heels beneath her butt, her knees denting the mattress.
He put his hand behind her head and started releasing her hair from its pins. It fell around her in a dark, silken wave, moving over her shoulders, covering her breasts.
“I’ve been having fantasies about your hair,” he said, his expression tense. Hard. Like a man carved from stone. Like a man trying, so very hard, to hold everything—his emotions, his desires—at bay.
She watched as his hands went to the closure on his slacks. Her throat went dry and she swallowed hard, finding breathing difficult.
She’d never seen a naked man in person before. And here she was, about to be confronted with her first, her hands tied.
You could tell him to stop....
No. She didn’t want that.
He shrugged his underwear and pants down, exposing himself to her for the first time. She’d had a fair idea, judging from the bulge, that he was not a small man. But that was a bit of an understatement.
He wrapped his hand around his shaft and she watched, mesmerized, as he stroked himself once. Twice. Closing his eyes as he did, muttering something. A curse, a prayer. She wasn’t sure.
He kept one hand on his erection, and cupped her cheek with the other, before moving it to her hair, sifting the strands through his fingers.
He pushed her hair back, gathering it in his fist and twisting it around his hand, his hold firm. He didn’t pull; he simply held her. Captive. At his mercy.
Pleasure and excitement shivered along her spine as she waited to see what he would do next. What he would demand next.
She bit her lip, her eyes on his arousal.
“You want that?” he asked.
She nodded slowly, waiting for his order.
He moved closer to her and she tried to lean in but he held her fast, pain tingling around her scalp as he held her hair tight, keeping her in place.
“I didn’t say you could do that yet,” he said.
He tugged her hair again, forcing her head back. She looked up at him, their eyes locking. “Please,” she said, breaking his rule.
She was hungry. For him. For every experience he could give. Everything she’d missed.
She parted her lips and waited for him to come to her. He moved closer and she touched the tip of his shaft with her tongue, her eyes on his face. She could see the tension there, could see how much he wanted it. That he was denying them both for some reason.
She opened wider and took more of him in. He held her tight, guiding her, setting the pace. She watched him, watched to see if he was getting the same pleasure from this that she’d gotten when he’d done it for her.
And it was her turn to deny him. To push him to the edge. To feel him shake, even while he held her in his iron grip.
He pushed his hips toward her and guided her head down and she took him in deep, her tongue moving along the hard ridge of him.
He swore and pulled her back. “Not yet. Not like that,” he said.
He released his hold on her hair and stepped back, sweat making his chest and shoulders glisten. She just wanted to stare
