“Oh, please, this is torture! Don’t be so mean,” she gasped.
He growled and came up, shoving his tongue into her mouth until she shuddered. He rammed inside her without preamble. She screamed. He rocked inside her, teeth clamped, breath hissing out of him as he felt his cock drag inside her flesh, scraping her. He pushed up to her G-spot, watched her arms wrench in her binds, her legs strain as she tried to move from the pleasure, but couldn’t.
He pulled out, then dragged his cock so that the tip glided across her clitoris. Her eyes were half closed as she watched him, her mouth parted, her breasts jerking up and down along with her abdomen as she tried to breathe. She was perfect and she was perfectly wet, perfectly tight, and she was his. Mine … He rubbed the head of his shaft in circles against her clitoris until she tossed her head back on a heavy moan. Mine … yeah, baby, that’s right … you’re mine.…
He dragged his cock upward, pushing the tip across her nipples, the liquid semen already leaking and smearing across the tips, making them pucker even more. She cried out and undulated upward to him, her eyes shining on his face. You like that? That’s right you do … these are mine, too.…
He clamped his jaw as he taunted both breasts with his cock, and then … he pushed them together and slid between them, sliding all the way up to taunt her lips.
She opened her mouth wide and stretched her neck out as she tried to lick him. He swiveled back his hips, teasing her, and when she moaned, he pushed the first part of his cock into her mouth.
She sucked him so hard, he barked out in pleasure. Her mouth was claiming his cock, just like he was claiming her, and he could almost hear her in her mind, her telling him it belonged to her.… Of course it’s yours, princess. I’m all yours.
He plowed in deeper, the hot dampness of her mouth making his testicles draw tight with the need to explode, then he started to withdraw, his toes curling when her tongue circled the head and lightly suckled on him. He knew semen was dribbling from his excitement, and he felt her lap at it with a moan at the tip, then she swallowed.
He pulled out, and when she mewed in protest, he pushed back in, giving her a little more. There you go … oh, Christ …
She sucked him deeper, harder, and he let her, closing his eyes, telling her suddenly in a murmur how good it felt, how good her tongue felt.…
When he withdrew, his muscles were tense. He was high already, high on her. He shoved his hips back down between her parted legs. The blood thundered through his veins, his rapid pulse echoing in his ears, quieted only by her moans, and that ball-twisting yell she next made when he thrust into her pussy again.
He dropped over her, his hands sliding up her arms, caressing her, then down her rib cage, his heated whisper in her ear. “Now you will know what true pleasure is, Monica. Roland can’t give it to you. Nobody can but me. No one can replace what you really want. No other man will be me.”
She tossed her face, her face ravaged in ecstasy.
He edged back and braced up on his arms. “You can let go sometimes … only when you’re under me … completely protected by me. Possessed. Penetrated. By me. Being watched. By me. You know I’d do anything for you. Anything.”
She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut on the next thrust, her hips angling to receive him—every throbbing, pulsing inch of him. “That’s what scares me the most.…”
The confession undid him, and he growled, pumping faster, with more desperation, clenching her face between his hands, licking her lips hungrily. “Accept me, Monica. Take me. I want to be yours.” In that last final thrust, he barked out in pleasure, then he quickly pulled out, and started rubbing and spilling all over her pelvis and the outer lips of her pussy, the head of his cock stroking her pearly nub until she broke apart.
He watched her convulsions seize her, the sight filling him with thrilling possessiveness.
He greedily fitted his mouth to hers as her shudders subsided, then set loose her legs first, followed by her arms, and as soon as he freed her, Monica lunged at him. “Give me that,” she said breathlessly, going up to her knees on the bed, her breasts pressed against his diaphragm as she reached up to grab the binding.
“I don’t think so,” he said, laughing, as he raised it above her head.
“Don’t be such a spoilsport. Let me tie you up.” Their bodies rubbed as she again made a try for it, their chests slick and hot, and his cock, only partly softened, immediately shot up.
His voice roughened. “Why would you want to tie me up when I can pleasure you better with my hands free?” He cupped her breast in his hand and explored the rosy peaks with his fingers.
“Because…” Her voice was throaty and soft with arousal as she caressed his hard chest and kissed him, her mouth hot and wet as she thirstily suckled on his tongue. He seized one of her hands and curved it around the base of his cock, his heat burning in her palm, the air crackling around them. “Are you going to kiss me here again?” he asked gutturally.
She nodded, and the thought drove him crazy, made his scrotum tighten and his dick stiffen with need. Monica was on her knees, trembling with need. He’d never do this for another woman; he’d always done the tying. But the thought of her pleasuring him in any way she wanted to pleasure him made him want to groan and roll over like a dog and play dead. He gave her the fastening, then edged back on the headboard, his heart beating like a jackhammer in his chest.
Their bodies were naked and moist from lovemaking, and he watched, enraptured, as her breasts jiggled as she maneuvered to fasten him. His mouth watered with wanting to feed from her nipples, her pussy, and although he forced himself to relax against the headboard, his erection was not relaxed at all. Neither was Monica’s sex, looking as wet as he’d ever seen it. Nor her nipples, looking darker, duskier, after their lovemaking.
“When did you get this?” she asked in a cottony whisper, stroking her fingers over his tattoo.
“One drunken night … when the girl I loved refused to kiss me.”
She looped his tied wrists up on the hook, and suddenly stopped to stare, her eyes wide and a stormy blue, her cheeks flaming bright red. “Don’t say that word,” she murmured, then her fingers trailed downward. His stomach contracted when she led them along each ab square, her tongue following, licking him. Tasting him. Sending his senses wildly spinning.