Perfect Temptation (Perfect Fit Book 4)

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Perfect Temptation (Perfect Fit Book 4) Page 16

by KB Alan


  Inside her channel, she could barely feel the cold, but the opening was apparently full of nerve endings that were feeling quite confused about whether to push the offending item away, or suck it inside. Confusion turned to overwhelming sensation when his mouth clamped around her clit and sucked.

  The tight bead of her clit shot electricity through her whole body. Her hips tried to rise up, but she was held fast by the tether holding her thighs to the headboard. The clinking of the metal clasps rang in her ears as she tossed her head from side to side. The ice cube had already heated to a tiny size and he dropped it, letting the nearly liquified piece slide down to her butt crack. His mouth lifted from her clit when she was so close and she bit back a wail.

  A new ice cube settled at her opening, and his mouth returned, but now it was cold, and she realized he’d suckled the ice.

  As his mouth cooled her clit, and her flesh warmed his tongue, her body nearly gave into the conflicting sensations and she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to come or not. Had he told her? She couldn’t think, could only beg.

  “May I come, please, Sir? Please, I need— Ah!”

  He worked the cube all around her hot folds, once, twice, before lifting his tongue from her. “You asked so nicely. Come for me, Petal. I want to taste you.”

  She arched back against her bound arms. He thrust his tongue into her pussy and she felt the cold ice at her lips. Sucking at it eagerly, she tasted her own juices from the ice. His cold fingers held it firmly against her mouth while his tongue fucked in and out of her. She exploded into sensation, vaguely aware of the cold drips along her chin or the slow licks and nibbles he gave her cunt.

  Her ears were roaring and her heart racing. The darkness surrounded her, made her lose track of herself, so she focused on him, instead. His shoulders between her legs, his hand resting on her chin, his whiskered cheek against the crease of her thigh.

  “Noah. Noah.”

  She didn’t realize she’d been speaking until his own words penetrated the buzz in her ears. “I’m here, Petal. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

  His actions seemed to bely his words as his body moved away from her. She held back a cry, but his hands were on her head, easing the blindfold away. She blinked against the light. His expression was soft and pleased.

  “I hope you’re feeling okay because I have something I think you can help me with.” He glanced down at his cock. It was hard and jutting toward her, as if eager for her attention. A bead of pre-come glistened at the head and she wanted to taste and touch. He unhooked the clasps holding her thighs, and eased her legs down, then swung over so he was straddling her stomach.

  He rubbed his finger lightly, barely there, over the tiny pink spots in her cleavage from the rose thorns. “So pretty,” he murmured.

  “Yes, Sir,” she agreed.

  Leaning up on his knees, he braced one hand beside her head and thrust his fingers into her hair with the other, holding her head tight and fast in a way he hadn’t done before. She gasped, and he took the opportunity to slide his cock between her lips. She accepted him, encouraged him, unable to move against the pull of her hair, only able to take what he gave her.

  She moaned her appreciation, her gaze fixed on his. The heat in his eyes, the hunger in his face, made her want more, but he slid in only so far. She licked and sucked as much as she could, urging him forward.

  “Get me wet, Petal. Nice and wet so I can slide between your tits.”

  She redoubled her efforts, wanting everything he had to give. She wished she could touch him, but she felt wrapped up in his hold, even as her arms were behind her back. She arched her neck the very tiny bit that she was able to, just to feel his hold on her hair and his collar around her neck.

  He fed her more of himself, and she concentrated on making him feel good, getting him wet, pleasing him. She hummed around his cock and he grunted.

  When he backed out of her mouth, she wanted to whine in protest, but she also wanted to give him what he’d asked for, to see his cock sliding between her breasts. He let go of her head and dribbled lube along her breasts. Her skin was so hot, so ready, that the lube felt cold, though nothing compared to the ice cube from before. He pushed her breasts together and slowly pushed his cock between them.

  His fingers kneaded and pressed against her flesh, his look of concentration intense and erotic. She’d never had anyone fuck her boobs before, wouldn’t have imagined she’d find it pleasurable, but oh yeah, with this man, in this moment, it was amazing.

  She opened her mouth and he let her lick the head, then pulled back.

  “You feel incredible,” he told her, his voice rough. “I want to stay here an hour and just work my way in and out of your lusciousness. But I also want to watch my come splash across your face and chest.”

  “Oh, please, Sir.”

  “You like that?” he asked as picked up his pace. “You want that?”

  “Y-yes, Sir, please.” She’d never wanted any such thing before, but she wanted it now. He brought the head back to her lips, and she sucked as much as she could before he slid back again. He sped up, and she just left her tongue out so that he could slide against it when he wanted. He was panting hard, his knees pressed tight against her sides, his hands manipulating her breasts how he needed them for his pleasure.

  His back straightened and his gaze fixed on hers as he froze, then jetted a stream onto her mouth and chest. She lapped up what she could reach and he let go of her breasts, braced his hands on either side of her head and swooped down to invade her mouth with his kiss.

  Her legs were pulling against the strap holding her to the headboard, her core empty and begging, her hands useless behind her back, but she gave him everything she could with her mouth. Eventually he slowed down, one hand drifting back into her hair. Not the tight hold from earlier, but a gentle anchoring. Finally he released her and sat back on his heels, only a fraction of his weight on her.

  His eyes swept up and down, taking her in. She could only imagine how wild her hair must be, how red and puffy her lips, the remnants of his release on her chin and chest, her breasts slick and mottled from his grip. It was very clear that what he saw pleased the hell out of him.

  “Now. I think that was a nice little transition, don’t you? Warm us both up a bit before we start with the impact play?”

  She’d forgotten all about his intentions for the night. A shiver that she couldn’t define as either need or nerves raced through her. He smiled.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Noah watched the shiver run through Nat and smiled. She was ready. He helped her sit up and unlaced the arm binder, massaging her shoulders for a minute, then pushed all the pillows off the bed.

  “How do your shoulders feel?” he asked.

  “Good, Sir.” She rolled them under his hands.

  “Turn over and lay down on your stomach, put your arms over your head like a Y.”

  He grabbed the bright red bondage tape he’d brought, and safety scissors. Putting the scissor down near her head, he used the tape to wrap her wrists and secure them to the metal part of the headboard.

  “Give them a pull,” he told her.

  She tried, and he nodded, satisfied with the hold and that the tape wasn’t pinching or pulling on her. Then he did the same to her legs, angling them so that her feet stuck through the bars of the footboard and he could tape her ankles to it.

  Her hair had fallen over her face and she was trying to jerk it away, but wasn’t having much success. He grabbed a hair band she’d left on the bedside table and pulled her hair back into a little tail.

  Stepping back, he looked her over. She was watching him closely, lip between her teeth, ass still a little bit red, the orange collar bright against her skin. Fucking gorgeous.

  He kept his gaze connected with hers when he reached into the bag and pulled out a crop. It was a standard crop, simple in its devastation. It had a loop of leather for the end, about three inches that tapered out from the s
haft. Her expression was worried, but not scared. He ran the tip lightly over her instep and she tried to jerk away, then settled. He touched it to the inside of her knee, just barely.

  “Make as much noise as you like,” he told her. “I’m pretty sure everyone is off the pond and safely involved in their own home activities at this point.”

  The one eye he could see went a bit wide at that implication.

  “If you want to come, ask me nicely. You do that very well.”

  She blushed, which was kind of hilarious and kind of adorable.

  “You’ll use your numbers, even if I don’t ask.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He played the tip over her toes, then pressed the rod along her thigh. “Are you ready, Petal? What’s your number?”

  “Yes, Sir. Just nervous. One, Sir.”

  He cracked the tip against his own thigh and she jumped, then let out a nervous laugh. He leaned over and kissed the corner of her mouth. Her lips curved up in response, and he tapped the crop onto the fleshiest part of her leg. Not hard enough to sting. Not yet.

  Her breath shuddered out and her whole body relaxed a tiny bit. She’d been braced for pain. He peppered more smacks like that, up her legs, over her shoulders, very light taps on her ribs and arms. When she’d fully relaxed, he started to make some of the hits a little harder, building up the intensity. Every few minutes he used his hand to run along some part of her skin, feel the warmth for himself and remind her that he was the one giving her the strokes.

  She was squirming now.

  He gave the reddest spot on her butt a good smack and she let out a little cry, but her hips tilted up as much as she was able, asking for more. Her eyes were closed, but not scrunched tight. He used the tip of the crop between her legs, gathering the wetness there. Her eye popped open. She watched his face as he pushed the tip into her opening, then pulled it out and brought it to his lips.

  He sucked her cream from the leather, enjoying the way her gaze went needy and her lips parted.

  “How are you doing, Petal?”

  “Good, Sir. One.”

  “You look amazing. Do you want more?”

  “Yes, please, Sir.”

  He increased the level, making most of the hits hard enough to sting, and a few of them hard enough to make her flinch and gasp and moan. He stayed on the same side of the bed, so that she could see him at all times. After a few more minutes, he leaned in close and touched her face. A light sheen of sweat had her hair sticking to her forehead. She opened her eye slightly, but it was unfocused. Perfect.

  He used the scissors to cut the tape off wrists and ankles. She whimpered.

  “Turn over now, Petal.”

  It took her a second to understand what he was saying, but then she rolled over with his help. “I think you’re enjoying this,” he murmured as he rebound her to the headboard and footboard. “Tell me what you think.”

  She was clearly not in a talkative mood. He grinned at her and she came back to herself a little more with her annoyance. He raised an eyebrow and her face flushed. “I like it, Sir. I was feeling…floaty.”

  The line appeared between her eyebrows and he kissed it away. “Good. Are you ready for more?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You have some interesting targets when you’re turned up like this,” he pointed out, drawing the tip of the crop down her chin and then circling one of her breasts. Her eyes went wide again.

  “Still ready to continue?” he asked.

  She swallowed and he watched her throat work under his collar.

  “Y-yes, Sir. One, Sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  He gave her a stinging slap to her upper thigh, then a light one to her belly. Working in a random pattern, he peppered her legs and the side of her breasts with alternating levels of force. When her eyes had closed again and she was squirming unconsciously, he gave her nipples a firm slap, one immediately after the other. She cried out with the first, extending it with the second, her eyes opening, dazed and unfocused.

  Bending over, he drew one offended nipple between his lips, resting his hand along her pubic bone, pressing the rod of the crop into her so that she would feel it as he soothed first one nipple, then the other. When she was moaning again, hips pressing up, he let go and resumed cropping her.

  With one hand, he soothed her matted hair from her forehead, while the other rained heavy stings across her thighs and stomach, earning a tight cry when he chose high up on her inner thigh. He walked around to the other side of the bed, giving the blows to her arms and breasts while his free hand soothed lightly across her stomach and settled on her pubic bone. He pressed firmly and she pulled at her ankles.

  He eased one finger down, across her clit and into her wet, welcoming heat. He hit her nipples again as she clutched tighter on his finger.

  “Sir, please, Sir.”

  “What would you like?” he asked, as he kept his finger still and gave a light tap to her armpit. She jerked and squealed.

  “I—I don’t know, Sir.”

  “Then you’ll leave it to me to decide?”

  “Please, Sir.”

  She made him smile, his Petal. Her eyes were still closed, her head tossing about, her body straining toward him even as he offered little bites of pain in random spots across her needy body.

  “Open your mouth, Petal.”

  Her eyes slitted open as she followed his order. He placed the crop between her lips.

  “Hold that for me, for a moment. You can still use your numbers.”

  He used his now free hand to pluck and tease her sensitized nipples while he added a second, then a third finger in her pussy. Her keening cry of need made him even harder than he already was. He pushed his thumb into her clit and she came quickly, but her body didn’t ease, didn’t stop straining for him.

  He rolled on a condom, knelt up onto the bed, and slid into her. Pausing inside her, he pressed his body into her warmed, sensitized skin, scratching it with the hair on his chest. Her eyes begged him for more, for him. He kissed her, the crop still between her lips, drawing her tongue into his mouth around the thin rod.

  She whined at the obstruction. Or maybe at the roughness he was bringing to her tender skin. Or maybe trying to get him to move inside her. He broke the kiss and picked up the crop, setting it aside. Then he kissed her for real, deep thrusts with his tongue that mimicked as he began to fuck her. He loved the feel of her, imagined her without the barrier of the condom.

  The idea had him groaning, and her eyes opened, watching his face with avid hunger as he worked over her. She was pulling on the tape, trying to get her arms around him, but could do nothing but take him. He knew she was close to coming again. He gave another thrust, then pulled out completely.

  Her wail of frustration almost had him smiling, but he managed to make his face stern.

  “Did you want to come?”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  “Did you ask?”

  Natalie’s heart stuttered at Noah’s question. Shit. She hadn’t asked, and she’d already come once. Maybe he wouldn’t punish her for the first one, it hadn’t been a real orgasm. Kind of.

  “Please, Sir, I’m so sorry, I need you.”

  “What do you need?”

  “I need you! I want to come, please, Sir.”

  He palmed her breast and flicked her nipple with his thumb. It was sore from being hit earlier, and somehow that soreness, his touch, had her fighting to keep from coming. Why is that so fucking good? It didn’t make sense, nothing made sense right now when she couldn’t think about anything other than getting his thick cock back inside her and letting her come.

  “Please,” she drew the word out on a long moan that lasted several seconds. He studied her, that stern expression giving her no hint as to what he might do. Then his face softened and he leaned down, brushed his lips with hers, spoke so that his breath entered her open and eager mouth.

  “You can come when you stop kissing me,” he invited, an
d lowered his mouth to hers.

  She lifted her head as much as she could to take him in, but that wasn’t necessary. He gave himself to her, letting her pull his tongue into her mouth even as he slid his cock into her channel. She sucked and tasted while he kept a steady rhythm. Her body was on fire, but now she was torn between making the kiss last forever and holding back the electric need that arced through her.

  Tears tickled their way down her temples as she held back, his body rubbing on her clit, the hair on his chest scratching at her, his silky tongue kissing her like he was content to stay there forever. When the electricity built into a lightning bolt of need, she tore her mouth free and came. She screamed when he bit her upper arm, a place he’d bruised with his crop. Her orgasm redoubled and she grayed out.

  When she came back to full awareness, he’d lowered her hands to her sides and wiped her face, chest and pussy with a warm washcloth. He returned to her side and she curled into his body. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

  Her mind was emptier than she ever remembered it being and she had no idea how much time passed before she began to think again. She knew she wasn’t a masochist, or at least, she didn’t think so. She’d honestly thought tonight would be about showing him she could endure something if it made her top happy.

  He smoothed her hair back from her face and remade her ponytail. “Back with me?”

  She found it harder than she could understand to open her mouth and form words. “Yes, Sir.”

  His lips twitched as if he understood she hadn’t lied but hadn’t exactly told the truth, either.

  Pulling in a deep breath, she concentrated on the feel of his skin touching hers, the little aches and pains on her body, the smell of him. “I’m good.”

 

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