Dean sank his tongue into my mouth for a deep, hungry kiss, my musk rich on his lips. “We won’t even need the bed strap.”
“Bed strap?”
Dean released me and crouched to unzip his bag. He parted the sides, exposing coils of rope that made my groin clench.
“Is that...?” The words lodged themselves in my throat, fright and shock zipping through me in protest. This wasn’t me, was it? Charlie had cuffed me—but tied up would be vulnerable. Exposed.
Dean pulled the rope out of the bag, the sound of the fibers sliding against the metal zipper sparking a fire in me. “It’s all for you. Are you still okay with this?”
My cunt ached and my nipples felt tight and constricted. My assent fell from my lips like glass shattering on the floor, piercing and loud, startling to everyone in earshot.
Or maybe only to me.
Dean’s lips turned up into the most beautiful smile as he drew a long, strapped contraption from the bag and held it up. Evenly spaced buckles ran along its woven length, and he gave it a jostle before setting it aside. “This is a bed strap. I bought it this week.”
“Oh.” I’d never seen one, but its purpose was obvious. For years, longing for whatever had heightened the heavy storm of my heartbeat, I hadn’t come across such a thing because I’d never explored.
Not like Dean and I were about to do.
He scooted against my legs. His eyes stayed on mine as he hugged my thighs. He slid his hands beneath my dress, running his fingers along the underside of my ass. “Let me tell you what I’m going to do. I don’t want anything to make you uncomfortable...” He pressed his face into the V of my thighs and exhaled, a delicious heat rocking my core. “Well, uncomfortable in an unhappy fashion, anyway. That wouldn’t do.”
I threaded my fingers into his hair, its texture soft on my skin. His eyes shone up at me in my silent wait.
“First, I’ll take off this gorgeous dress to reveal every inch of your luscious skin. Next I’m going to lay you back on the bed and tie you tight. Not painfully, but secure...and open.”
My eyes fluttered shut, visions of how this would look, how I would look, making it difficult to stay upright. The throttle of my pulse ensured my nerves and curiosity were both aligned for the same damn thing: pure want.
“After I have you restrained, I’ll play with you for a while. Teasing your breasts, your sweet pussy and maybe—” he slid his hands down the crease of my backside, hot on hidden skin and making me jump, “—even the tight hole of your ass that one day I’d like to fill.”
My eyes popped open, and he nuzzled my groin, inciting a cry from me.
“Would you like that?”
I sucked in a breath and bobbed my head.
“Good. Tonight though, I’ll be deep in your cunt. I want to fuck you until you come again.” He winked. “And maybe again?”
My knees wobbled.
I wanted this, God, I did.
“The goal is to overwhelm you while you submit. Do you understand?”
For some reason, I trusted him. I said, “Yes.”
“Very good.”
Dean pulled my shoes from my feet and slipped his hands under my dress, the chill in the room subdued by the heat of his palms. He gripped the flesh of my calves, then my thighs, squeezing every couple of inches as if testing me. When he reached my hips, he flattened his hands against them.
“I love that you took your panties off at the restaurant. Such a vixen, without me needing to ask.” He righted himself, the fabric of my dress gathering at his elbows when he raised his hands to my waist. “Like you were made to succumb. Like it’s in you.”
Irrepressible need had rooted itself in my core, but Dean lifted his hands higher, passing my bra and moving over my shoulder blades, the urge sinking into every fiber of my being. Dean maneuvered my dress off me, and the fabric whisked to the floor while he kissed me and stripped away my bra.
Naked, I stood in front of him. I whimpered when he nudged me back, his fingers clinging to my stomach once I lay on the bed.
The next few minutes were the most erotically charged of my life. Dean kicked off his shoes and removed his shirt, dropping it aside to reveal the broad stretch of a chest chiseled from years of sailing. He left his slacks in place while he uncoiled various strands of the rope, his thick fingers caressing it. When he straddled me on the bed, he pushed my arms up to the vertical bars of my headboard. My head flooded with blood, the pounding so loud in my ears it deafened me while he wound the rope around my wrist. Dean’s dick lifted in his pants, inches from my face as he checked the strands. He’d left room for the two fingers he slipped between the rope and my skin, smooth and soft compared to the rough texture of the coils.
“How’s that?” He gave the loose ends a tug to demonstrate the pressure. It wasn’t painful, but the bite of the rope aroused me unexpectedly.
I pressed my knees together, my sex swollen and wet. “It’s fine.”
Dean secured my wrist to the iron rungs of the headboard. The strands crossing one another in his knots made the roughest, grittiest sound, and the frame whined every time Dean gave the rope a good tug. When I jerked, he paused, his pelvis taunting and close over my face. “You okay?”
The time it took him to tie me was a slow torture in itself. “Yeah, I’m just really excited.”
“Good.” Dean repeated the motion with my other arm, his expression rapt while his weight shifted the mattress beneath me. Despite the spirals of anticipation seeping through me, I craved the reassurance of his smile.
“I feel like we’re supposed to have a safe word or something,” I joked.
My attempt was successful; Dean’s lips lifted his cheeks as his determined fingers continued with the rope. “How about ‘safe word’?”
“Or ‘banana.’”
He chuckled. “I’ll respect both, and you’re adorable.”
I admired the knots he worked on my wrist, riveted by his movements and the heat of his fingers between each of the coarse loops holding me in place.
“I trust you,” I said. The dig of the rope made it hard to focus, but when Dean bent over me, his crotch was so near my face I couldn’t resist.
I lifted my head and mouthed the bulge at his groin.
He stilled and closed his eyes, a growl pouring from his throat. “You minx,” he said. He surrendered to the heat of my mouth, not stopping me from cupping my lips around him through the fabric.
“I want to taste you.”
Dean ran a finger along my arm, then over my cheek. “You will.” He set back to work, locking my second wrist in place and pretending not to notice the hungry way I mouthed his covered erection. I wanted the fabric gone to taste his skin, but Dean kept right on working, captivating me with his focus. When he finished, he sat back to survey his handiwork.
“Not so bad,” I said. I fisted my hands. The pull of the rope was noticeable yet bearable, and as he grabbed my breasts and rolled my nipples between his fingers, I strained against the rough strands with a choked murmur.
“Oh, I’m not done yet.”
Dean lowered his face to my nipple and took it gently in his teeth while he kneaded my other breast. He clamped his teeth tighter, and I bucked beneath him, the sheets rumpling beneath my back. Dean sat upright.
“See, that’s why I’m tying you all the way down. Already, though, you look amazing.” He ran his hands along my waist before resting his fingers over the ridge that tented his slacks. He rubbed himself, and I moaned.
“No fair!”
“I love how eager you are.” Dean climbed off me to grab another coil, and when he returned, he pushed my legs up until I folded at the knees and my back rounded against the mattress.
The sensation of being moved—no, arranged and positioned, with my hands bound like this—mad
e my blood rise. Dean’s jaw remained taut with seriousness, and yet his eyes glowed with a zealous enthusiasm when he settled between my thighs. My heartbeat clattered in my chest as he tied me with my lower and upper legs pressed together, the coils weaving multiple times around my shin and thigh, binding them tight. Dean finished the other leg much faster than the first. Then he spread my legs apart.
“You’re positively dripping,” he said, staring down at my groin. The wet spot beneath my ass was cold and alluring.
Fuck, this entire experience was alluring.
“Dean.” I didn’t understand the sensation in me. My body shook, and I felt euphoric without him even touching me yet.
Dean’s face brightened. He took a couple of fingers to my cleft, tracing my slippery opening and making me cry out. I started to close my legs but he shoved them apart, the muscles in my thighs quaking against his force. “Your legs stay open,” he said sharply, his fingers making slow, entrancing circles. He slid them up to pinch my clit and sank his thumb inside in rapid thrusts. I rolled my hips up with a groan. “If you want more, you must keep them open. Do you understand?”
I tugged on the ropes in affirmation, the tingling in my pelvis maddening. I was bound and trapped beneath this beautiful man, and so fucking turned on.
Dean didn’t cease the exquisite movements of his thumb and fingers, and his eyes slit as he watched my pussy flex. Heat showered me, threatening to knock every reasonable thought from my head. My vision blurred. Everything about this consumed me.
I’d never felt anything like it.
Dean raised himself on his knees. He eased down the zipper of his slacks, pulling them and his briefs off his hips in a quiet sweep. His cock leaped up to his belly, the crown bulbous and smooth, and all I could think of was my lust for him.
“Please.” I kept my legs wide like he’d instructed, overrun by burgeoning need so heavy even my lungs felt weighted. “Fill me, please...”
Dean took his shaft in his hand, squeezing until the head turned a lighter shade of red. Against the muscles of his stomach it looked like a dream—hard as stone and beckoning me, promising delight.
Dean wrangled his trousers off and took two condoms out of his pocket. He threw one of them onto my nightstand and dropped the other on the comforter, circling my hips with his fingers before dragging them back to my slit. Once he slipped both thumbs inside, I was delirious with pleasure. “Are you on the pill?”
I came to slightly. “Yes, but—”
He shoved his thumbs deeper. “I don’t intend to take off the condom. I’m simply asking to know. Backup is good.”
He came at me then, his tongue dipping in with his thumbs, the pressure of his touch profound as he lapped at me. I struggled to keep from clamping my thighs around his head, concentrating on the burn of the rope in the shifts of my thighs while he brought me to elevated planes of pleasure. My face grew numb, my breath ragged and I was floating in my mind, separating from my body. Dean dragged his tongue lower, his thumbs making hearty thrusts to match his tease of the tender ring of my ass.
I moaned, subjected to his touch and unable to move. His tongue penetrated me and he rubbed his nose against my cunt, his thumbs grazing my inner walls.
My reflex was to thrash, to jump away from this, but he’d pinned me in place. Dean groaned, his tongue bringing the orgasm close, and I felt such driving need I shrieked out his name.
With his eyes glassy and his face drenched, Dean pulled away from me. Feral moans escaped my lips as he found the condom and rolled it over his throbbing length. He crawled over me, his sexy body about to overtake me in this bound-up state.
“Please,” I breathed.
The muscles of his shoulders rippled when he aligned himself with me. He peered into my eyes with such need, such hunger, my heart threatened to beat right out of my chest. Dean ran his silky head along my crevice, wetting himself, feeding his tip inside me.
I clenched around him. “Fuck, more!”
“You’re on fire inside. So hot.” His words were distant, sweet, a gentle ring in my ears. I couldn’t see straight anymore. I was only aware of the quivering of my body and the effort it took to move my hips the tiniest fraction of an inch he’d allow me while he kept himself just beyond my entrance. “So good,” he said.
I rocked again. Dean gathered my bound legs to his chest, the touch of his skin reaching me between the strands of the rope. He reared back, and I was ready, completely out of my mind.
He whispered, “You’re mine.”
Then he plunged inside.
I growled when he filled me, his girth stretching me apart. He stayed there, his hold on my legs allowing him to reach the deepest parts of me.
“Oh, Maya.” The head of his cock hit my G-spot, coaxing a tremendous wave of pleasure from me. I writhed in my ties and tried to grind against him as his weight banged my clit.
Dean repeated like this, pulling halfway out and sinking in until I felt split apart. My brain untethered from my body, spiraling out of control. He groaned my name, the sound hungry and savage, and when he bit my knee I let go.
“Dean!”
My orgasm cascaded through me. It shook my breasts and contracted my walls in violent spasms that milked him as he pushed and retreated. I shuddered, my mind flying out into an ecstatic abyss that made me wail. Dean’s pants morphed into deep grunts when he lost himself in turn.
“Oh, yes!” he growled.
He spilled over me in one last, powerful thrust. Every ridge of my cunt trembled with aftershocks, and Dean loosened his arms, his cheek hitting my forehead. Then we lay there, gasping in the silence of my room for an eternity.
Gradually, the blood pooled back into my face. Dean lifted his head and flexed himself inside me.
I jumped, the movement miniscule against the confines of the rope.
“That was the most incredible experience of my entire life,” he said.
The heat that had circulated in my pelvis for the lengthy stretch of our play moved up my torso. It filled a space within me that expanded with a different kind of awareness, one that terrified me, yet felt so right. “Me, too.”
Dean kissed my neck while I lay there stupefied. Eventually, he elevated himself and started untying my limbs, the smile on his face delicious and hot.
But it was nothing compared to the fire that raged in me.
* * *
I woke at dawn. My limbs were tired from being bound not all that many hours before, though Dean had held me close after he’d untied me, stroking my hair and soothing me. Somehow he’d known I’d hurtled out of my head, and tenderly, lovingly, he’d calmed me back down. He’d massaged my wrists and legs, helping bring the circulation back to proper order and curling himself around me to fall asleep. I didn’t remember passing out, only the warmth of his arms as I fell into a heavy slumber.
At some point in the night we’d broken apart, and now, behind me, Dean exhaled subtle wheezes that couldn’t quite be called snores. I stretched myself out, hoping not to disturb him, then headed into the bathroom to freshen up.
When I reentered the room, I paused. The sun had started its peepshow through my windows and lit Dean’s body in the most delectable of ways. He’d rolled over in my absence, the sheets tangled around his legs to leave his chest and half his pelvis exposed. One strong, muscular arm draped over his abs, the other strewn lazily to the side. He looked content and handsome, a man who’d had his fill and lingered in the final stages of sleeping off his sexed-up high.
Tiptoeing back to the bed, I couldn’t resist the urge to touch him. So far, all our rounds had involved him taking me, him pinioning me—but I had to have my way with him. I climbed between the sheets and peeked down at him, marveling at his semi-erect cock. Perhaps he was dreaming of more ways to take me, but this time I intended to bring him the same pleasure he
’d brought me.
Snuggling low in the sheets and pushing my breasts against his thighs, I took him into my mouth in one smooth motion. His flesh tasted of come as I slid my lips down to the root, then back. Dean muttered incoherently and settled onto his back, giving me more room to tongue the underside of his shaft until he groaned. When I circled my hand tight around him, he stiffened immediately, and I crawled onto my knees to gain more leverage.
“Maya,” he said, his voice the raspy sound of one half asleep.
I moved my mouth faster, greedy to please him, to unravel him like he’d done to me. I cupped his balls with one hand as I ran my mouth along him, sucking with increasing pressure each time I reached his crown and then driving down to swallow him whole.
“Oh, God.” He came alive, lurching at the back of my throat. Already, I was wet—but this was about Dean, about turning him to putty in my hands. “Shit, Maya...”
He put his hands around the sides of my head, clasping but not steering, letting me stroke with my fingers and lips. I took him deeper, loving the banging all the way back in my throat.
“How are you...?” Dean bucked up. The desperate swell of him on my tongue enthralled me. He hitched up his hips and panted above me, and I worked my hand faster along his length. “Oh... Jesus. Yes!”
Dean’s semen spurted into the back of my throat, hot slicks of salty excitement that I swallowed with a grin. He convulsed in my hold, and his fingers twined and tugged at my hair.
“H-holy shit,” he stammered. He tossed back the covers. His eyes were glassy, the blue in them like waves of delight that crested and swelled. I receded, his softening cock sliding from my mouth. “Get up here and kiss me.”
I acceded, enjoying the warmth of his arms when he looped them around me and sealed his mouth over mine. His tongue took leisurely laps at my own. “You denied me that last night,” I said. I smacked my lips in a hard kiss, but Dean caught my lower lip and sucked it into his mouth.
He drew me close, weaving his legs until his feet curved around my ankles and secured me in place. “That’s because last night was all about me taking you over.”
The Assignment Page 12