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DESIRE - Gabby & Daniel (Fettered Book 3)

Page 7

by Lilia Moon


  Which, dammit, I’m trying not to think like that tonight. He wants to be here. He wants to see me naked. Which is a problem, because all my clothes are still on.

  I strip, shaking my head at the sexy new underwear I spent an hour picking out. Doesn’t matter—I like how it made me feel. It hits the top of my discarded clothes and I pick up the whole pile and toss it in the closet. If it works for teenage girls, it can work for a slightly nervous grandmother.

  Okay, make that more than slightly.

  I climb back onto my bed, shivering from something that isn’t cold and isn’t fear and isn’t stopping, especially when I hear footsteps in my living room. No way it’s been three minutes.

  I lay down, blushing like crazy and trying to remember all his instructions. Hands over my head. The wrought-iron flowers of my headboard might never be the same again. I put my head up on one of my pillows so that I can keep an eye on the doorway, and find a couple of good handholds.

  Legs spread. My ankles cross over each other, not at all on board with this plan. I scrunch up my face—he already saw me and all my parts naked two nights ago. And he came back. I huff out an annoyed, confused breath. This should be feeling easier, not harder.

  I manage to get my ankles about four inches apart when suddenly the footsteps are right in my doorway. My gaze snaps up to amused brown eyes and I wonder how much of my ridiculous struggle he saw.

  I’m not a mouse. I move my feet a little further apart.

  “That’s closer, sweetheart—but it’s so dark in here I can’t see a thing. Do you have more candles?”

  “Yes.” I close my eyes, totally mortified. “My hands were shaking.”

  His hand cups my chin. “And you hoped I might let you get away with hiding in the dark.”

  He sees everything. My ankles snap together, and the temper my daughters know to watch out for rears its head. “I’m nervous and shy and I told you that, and you’re not helping.”

  “Yes I am.” His eyes are gentle and stern at the same time. “I’m just not helping in the way that you’re used to. Relax, Gabby. You don’t have any choice in what happens next unless you use your safeword. It’s all up to me.”

  There’s no way that should sound reassuring—and yet it does.

  He kisses the top of my forehead. “I rarely give second chances, but you have one now. Have your legs spread beautifully for me by the time I’m done with the candles. Let me look at you and savor what I get to play with tonight.”

  I somehow find my voice. “I would like to look at you, too. Please.”

  He watches me for a moment. “Normally I decide that. But perhaps it would be instructive for you to see just how annoying the current lighting is.”

  He steps into the shadows behind the single candle I lit. I can hear buttons sliding open, see the outlines of a man’s chest as his shirt drops to the floor.

  And that’s about all I can see. I make a noise that sounds like a two year old about to have a temper tantrum.

  He steps over to the bed, crouches down, and kisses my cheek. “The next time I tell you to light all the candles, know that I want to see at least as badly as you do right now.”

  I nod, because he’s somehow made his point in a way that a bucket of words never could have.

  He walks around the room, lighting every candle I have, even the emergency ones on the top of my dresser. I stop worrying about what he can see and start enjoying my own view. His chest is nicely muscled, with a light dusting of crinkly dark hair that calls to my fingers to touch. When he turns, I catch his back in profile—and what looks like the edges of lines. “You have a tattoo?”

  He looks up from using one taper to light another. “I do. If you’re good I’ll let you lick it later.”

  There will be licking. A flood of heat pulses down my whole body.

  He sets down the last candle. “Legs, Gabby. Now.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Daniel

  I walk over to the sexy, flustered woman who’s finally managed to part her knees enough for me to maybe see her pussy, and want, badly, to dive between her legs and reward her bravery in the best way I know how.

  But that can’t happen, because I’m an idiot Dom who keeps getting ahead of himself. I sit down on the bed and content myself with running a hand down the curve of her hip. I haven’t talked with her much about what I plan to do tonight, and without a contract or even a decent limits discussion, I need to. “So, sweetheart, just like last time, I’m going to give you some broad-brush outlines of what I might do to you tonight, and you’re going to let me know if anything on my list is out of bounds for you.”

  She’s paying so much attention to every word. “Okay.”

  It’s taking way more self-control than it should to keep from sliding my fingers into her pussy. I can smell her arousal, and tonight I’m going to taste, and my Dom is shaking at his window bars to get out.

  Which is not good, because I don’t lick without permission. I get my attention back on her deeply honest eyes. They’ll tell me the truth, even if she can’t. “I want to use my mouth on you tonight. Anywhere I please.”

  Nothing but quivering desire. “Okay. Yes.”

  “I’d like to restrain your legs, pretty thoroughly.” I look up at the good grip she has on her headboard. “I’ll leave your hands free.” I look back at her eyes. “And I’d like to get naked and slide into you and feel your pussy wrap around my cock when you come.”

  Lots more nerves now, but still that liquid desire. And then confusion. “How will you tie me up?”

  Deflection, but I can give her this much. “I have a bag full of everything I need. Including condoms.”

  She swallows.

  I imagine sliding into her wet heat. “Words, sweetheart.”

  “Yes, please. All of that.”

  My Dom smashes through the cage bars like Hulk Hogan. “What’s your safeword?”

  Her eyes get big and a little scared. “Red. Or yellow.”

  I could ease her into this, get her riled up again first, but I want her to see the next parts while she’s fully coherent. To let her mind fully contemplate the demands I’m about to make.

  I reach down for the toy bag I’ve put near the edge of the bed. “I’m going to take my hands off you for a minute while I get this set up, but I’ll be right back.”

  I take one more look at her before I grab the balled rope and roll it under her bed. It has a big D-ring on each end. I clip a long, wide, silk band to one end and leave it lying on the bed beside Gabby’s hip.

  She’s watching carefully, and there are plenty of nerves.

  She’s a smart cookie if that’s the restraint she’s most worried about. I clip two more ropes to the sturdiest part of her headboard and run them over the top, and then I pick up the two leg cuffs and go sit down beside her again.

  Her anxiety’s climbing, but so is her arousal. Even her nipples are starting to tighten. I don’t let her see my satisfied grin.

  I feather my fingers down the inner thigh closest to me. “If anything about the restraints feels tight or uncomfortable at any time, or you’re getting a cramp, tell me.”

  She nods, my serious and studious little sub.

  This is going to be so much fun. I lift her knee up and out and attach the leg cuff, keeping a close watch on her face. They’re the widest, softest, most unthreatening cuffs I own, but they’re also her first step into more serious kink.

  She watches my hands, mesmerized. Not so much as a tremor.

  Good enough. I clip the first cuff into the ropes, but don’t tighten them yet. I switch sides and get the other cuff on. I’m moving fast, because I want her immobilized before she realizes how wide open she’s going to be to me. I slide the wide silk band over her lower belly and snug it down. Seatbelt tight, no more. Then I pull the nifty cords that tighten up the leg system, pulling her knees up and out.

  I can see the moment she realizes what I’m doing. Her legs kick hard against the restraints
as she tries to close them. I lay my hand down right over her pussy. “Easy, sweetheart. I want you wide open for me, for my pleasure and yours.”

  That makes her cheeks flame, but her eyes lose the edge of panic.

  Good. “You can’t move. Can’t hide from me, can’t move your hips away from whatever I’m doing.” I grin at her. “Or toward it.”

  That makes her relax, in a single helpless laugh.

  “For the next hour or so, you’re mine. I do anything I want. Only your safeword stops me.” Several other things will too, but I don’t want her relying on my experience. She has the ultimate power here, and I need her to be holding it.

  Her eyes are still pretty wild, but the desire is building, fast.

  Good. Time to give her a real taste of what she’s signed up for.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Gabby

  His eyes have changed.

  I barely have time to think that, and then he’s sliding his legs off the end of my bed and cupping his hands under my bottom. My very immobile bottom.

  And he’s staring at my pussy like it’s his next meal.

  I tug against the leg restraints, but it’s clearly a lost cause. He has me totally trussed up—I can’t move my hips more than an inch, and his hands are making clear that even that much is against the rules.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  I watch, mortified, as his hand reaches out to touch. I’m so wet.

  He traces a finger through my folds and then sticks it into his mouth and sucks, and his eyes get hotter. “You taste amazing, sweetheart. I’m going to spend a good long time down here. You have my permission to come whenever you want to.”

  Permission? My brain tries to freak out that he just said that to a grown woman—and then his tongue licks all the way up my wetness and my ability to think dissolves into complete mush. He licks a second time, and I can feel my hips trying to rock up into his mouth. I can’t possibly take an hour of this. I’ll die.

  His tongue dips into my folds, exploring hills and valleys, and then suddenly there are two of them, but that’s not possible. I try to lift up my head but all I see is dark hair and his laughing eyes.

  His thumbs start kneading into the crease at the top of my inner thighs, and then down toward my seat bones. He makes a satisfied, rumbling sound every time he hits a place that makes me squirm.

  His tongue is circling my pussy, diving inside me, and then heading out a different direction. Random. Crazy-making.

  His thumbs dig in to one of the magic sensitive spots he’s found as his tongue lashes over my clit. Hard. I hear sound bouncing off the walls and realize it’s me.

  A hand slides up my side and rolls my nipple at the same time as his tongue strokes my clit again. My hands fly to my breast. “Too much. I can’t.”

  “Hands. Up.” The words are sharp cracks, and my hands are flying back up over my head before I even make a conscious choice. “Good. Now leave them there. Take what I give you.” His tongue lashes my clit again, three times fast. “All of it.”

  I’m going to die.

  I’m going to die tied to a bed with my pussy hanging out for everyone to see. I can feel my panic rising. I’m not someone who does this.

  “Easy, Gabby.” He’s at my side in an instant, stroking my arms, soothing, and I don’t even know how he got there. He leans in and feathers kisses over my cheek, down the line of my chin, circling to my mouth. “It’s amazing to have you spread open like this for me. To see you, to taste you, to hold you while you let go.”

  His hand runs down my side and back between my legs. “I’m going to lick you until you come for me now.”

  I’m splitting open, the shape of the Gabby I know cracking just at his words.

  His tongue lands back on my pussy, circling softly. Big circles with no apparent agenda. No rush. A finger slides into me, slow and languorous, but the circling of his tongue doesn’t shift any closer to my clit.

  I don’t know where I am, but I know I’m falling, drowning in whatever it is he’s asking of me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Daniel

  She shifts gears so beautifully.

  And I could lick her pussy for the rest of forever. I keep things slow for a bit, letting her sink deeper, stop fighting the restraints. Letting her start to believe this is going to be gentle.

  Then I move my tongue to the left side of her clit hood and start to deepen the pressure. Switch sides. This close, I can smell her growing arousal even before I feel the newly slick surfaces under my tongue.

  I slick up a finger and slide it down to rim her asshole, sucking lightly on her clit as I do it. The sound she makes is lost and needy and beautiful.

  I keep gently playing with her ass and suck harder on her clit. She’s getting much more sensitive, starting to try to move away from my tongue. Not a chance. I slide both hands under her ass to eliminate that last inch of wiggle room and I let my tongue totally loose on her clit. Hard, fast licks, driving her up relentlessly.

  She whimpers, even screams a little.

  I grin and push my thumbs into the muscles right outside her asshole, and assault her clit again.

  She goes over, drenching my waiting tongue and wailing her pleasure into the night.

  I keep licking, massaging her with my thumbs, squeezing out every last aftershock.

  And then I push two fingers inside her pussy and head my tongue straight back to her clit.

  Her cry is part squawk, part complaint, all need. I play with her g-spot just long enough to get her ready to gush, and then I stop. Take my hands entirely off her. Stand at the foot of the bed, strip off my pants, roll on a condom, and wait.

  It takes a gratifyingly long time for her eyes to open, and even longer for sense to come back into them.

  I slide up between her legs, careful to keep my weight off the ropes. “I want to be inside you now, Gabby. What color is your traffic light?”

  I see the shock register when she realizes I’m giving her a choice, even while she’s tied up and totally at my mercy. “Green. Please. Green.”

  I reach up and tug gently on one of her arms. “You can let go now, sweetheart. Touch me as much as you like.”

  Her hands dive into my hair, and I close the distance to her beautiful, waiting, whimpering mouth. It’s a hard, desperate kiss, from a man who knows exactly what he’s going to do next. “I’m going to ride you deep and hard and you’re going to scream for me.”

  Her eyes widen, but every single muscle in the rest of her body is trying to get to my cock. I position myself at her entrance and wait until her eyes meet mine. And then I bury myself inside her in one hard stroke.

  Which means I get the insanely beautiful gift of watching her eyes shatter as she comes.

  I hold perfectly still, drinking in the look on her face, the ripples of her body under mine, the glorious spurt of wet heat around my cock.

  I look over at the restraint ropes regretfully. Time to set her free. She’s given herself a workout testing them, and it would take some pretty nifty acrobatics to get her off again in this position. Which I’m not at all opposed to, but she probably wants to be able to walk tomorrow.

  I pull on the releases, and she’s too far gone to notice—her legs don’t move at all. I groan, because she’s killing me with how deeply she gives, and use my arms to lever her knees a little higher.

  Then I move, pulling almost all the way out and plunging back in. This isn’t going to take long, and I want her with me. I shift the angle of my hips as I keep thrusting, and grin as she jolts. The woman has a very handy g-spot. I make sure I have my angle right, and then I let my relentless need loose, driving us both up a frenzied hill into madness.

  She comes screaming, her hands gripping my shoulders hard enough to leave bruises.

  I slam into her one more time and let her glorious surrender take me over too.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Gabby

  In romance novels, the heroine
s all wake up and have glorious morning sex.

  When I wake up, with clear daylight behind my curtains and Daniel curled up against me, I have a terrible need to pee. So not fair.

  I manage to sneak out from under his arm and off the bed without waking him up. At least one of my mom skills is still useful.

  I visit the bathroom long enough to take care of business and gape at my tousled reflection in the mirror. I’m the walking definition of ravished. Wild hair, big eyes, swollen lips, and those aren’t even the parts of me he played with very much.

  Wow.

  I stare a little longer, not sure whether I should have a shower, start breakfast, or climb back into bed and see what happens when a certain sleepyhead wakes up. And then I open my bathroom door and discover a naked man lounging against my hallway wall.

  He smiles at me, and it’s sleepy and dopey and strangely adorable. “Good morning, gorgeous.”

  I have no idea where to look. “Hi. Want some breakfast?”

  He steps in and collects me in his arms. “Sure. I’m cooking. Can your neighbors see in your kitchen windows?”

  Not unless they’ve snuck into my back yard, but the rest of where this is headed sounds crazy. “No, but—”

  He puts a finger over my mouth and kisses the top of my head. “Show me where your frying pans live.”

  Clearly sex kills brain cells. I stare at him, trying to keep up. “You’re really going to cook?”

  He grins, and his cheek dimple looks even deeper this morning. “I make a mean soufflé.”

  Not in a frying pan, he doesn’t, but whatever. I lead him into the kitchen, amused and quite sure I’ve gone crazy. I bend over to dig out the round pan I use for soufflés, and suddenly his hands are on my bottom. “I was going to let us eat first, but then you went and did that.”

  I shoot up to standing and nearly bang my head against the counter. “Stop. Daniel. I need a shower first.”

  He nuzzles into my neck. “You don’t. Bend over again. Hold on to the counter this time.”

 

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