by Olivia Devon
“Exactly. Now…” she turned and studied him, one finger on her chin. “How do I want to torture you?”
“Rope?” he asked arching an eyebrow.
“Always. But what else? Let me think.” She pursed her lips.
“Well what about me? Don’t I get to torture you too?”
“That depends,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “What do you have in mind?”
“What’s this?” Wyatt leaned over and picked up a pink satin box with the words Blush Shoppe embossed on the top in silver script.
“Oh, those are new,” Jinx said, taking the box from him.
Wyatt smirked at her, took the box back, and opened it. “Nipple clamps,” he said. “I like.”
That sound, the gravel in his voice, the way he purred the words at her, it went straight to her knees.
“Well—”
“Let me,” he said, his gaze hot, burning a trail over her skin.
“Was that a request, or an order?”
“What do you want it to be?”
“Both.”
Wyatt’s lips curled mischievously, like her answer had just given him permission to play the game his way. Jinx matched his gaze and paused. Did she like where this was going?
“Take off your clothes,” Wyatt said.
That tone? That was an order. And wet panties don’t lie.
She definitely liked it.
“Yes sir,” she said. Stepping out of her heels, she slid her fingers under the neckline of the bodysuit and began to slip it off her shoulders.
Wyatt captured her wrist and stopped her.
“Not yes sir. Wyatt. Yes, Wyatt.”
“I thought you didn’t like your name?”
“It’s still mine.”
“Okay—”
“What’s yours,” he asked.
“What?” The question surprised her. “Don’t you know it? I thought you checked me out thoroughly.”
“I did, and I do know it. But that’s not the same as you telling me. Before we do this, I’d like you to tell me.”
“Jun,” she said softly.
“What’s it mean?”
“It has several meanings. One of them is genuine.”
“Yes,” he smiled. “You are that. What’s another?”
“Obey.” Jinx lips curled into a coy smile.
“Ha! A command for others, or for yourself?”
“Depends. What do you want it to be?”
Wyatt studied her for a moment, blond hair flopping over his furrowed brow. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.
“Take. Off. Your. Clothes.”
Jinx licked her lips and locked her gaze with his. “Yes Wyatt,” she said, lust turning her answer into a whisper.
God she was beautiful. That long dark hair contrasting with her creamy skin, glowing golden now in the soft light of her bedroom. She was pinking around the edges, her fingertips, her cheeks, collarbone, all flushed with her desire for him. That knowledge only made his cock harder.
She freed her arms from the costume and held the top up over her breasts, her eyes searching his, the emotion there a heady mix of contradictions.
He didn’t exactly have a plan, had no idea what to do with such a delicious creature. But worry wasn’t on his mind, only need. He’d have fun figuring it out. They’d have fun figuring it out together.
Jinx sucked her bottom lip in, bit one side, then licked the same spot, the plump flesh shiny with saliva.
Wyatt smiled. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
Jinx batted her eyelashes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You know exactly what I mean. You’re trying to provoke me.” Wyatt lifted the nipple clamps out of the box by the chain and swung them in front of her.
Jinx closed the distance between them and stared up at him. She grabbed his crotch, her slender fingers wrapping around the hard, thick length that strained against his fly. “Not trying,” she said. Squeeze. “Succeeding.”
Wyatt hissed and gritted his teeth. “You’ll pay for that kitten.”
Jinx retreated, leaned casually against the wardrobe door, and let the top of her costume fall to her waist.
Sweet holy jiggly globes of—
“Lord have mercy.” Palms flat on the door behind her head, he caged her in. “Fuckin’ A, you’re beautiful.”
Jinx lifted her chin slightly and peered up at him from under thick dark lashes.
“I’m glad you think so,” she said.
Clever girl, she was aiming to turn the tables. Have him obeying her. Ha, ha. Nope.
Wyatt slid a hand down over her shoulder, cupped one heavy breast in his palm, let his thumb glide over the nipple, and grinned when it budded hard under his touch.
“Look at that,” he said, voice full of reverence. “You blush…everywhere.”
Her mouth gaped for a full second before she forced herself to recover. He watched a fresh blush craze up over her breasts and cheeks with deep satisfaction.
“I do not—“
Wyatt dipped his head, tongued a nipple into his mouth and sucked. She stopped talking. Her fingers scraped across his scalp, pulling him tight against her chest with a gasp.
One breast and then the other. God, he could worship these tits all night long. But no, he wanted to see this contraption on her, wanted to see the look in her eyes when he tugged on that sparkly little chain.
“Put ’em on,” he said, dropping the clamps into her hand. “I’d do it, but I’m not certain how they work yet. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“First,” she said, taking his hand. “Never put a nipple clamp on a wet nipple, it can slip off and pinch the tip too hard, causing injury.”
“Wouldn’t want that.” Wyatt dutifully followed orders, his gaze flitting from her breasts to her face as he wiped his saliva off her nipples with his thumbs.
She was working hard to keep it together. A little muscle tensed in her jaw like she was trying to swallow a moan. He rolled the nipples between thumb and forefinger, both at the same time, and smiled when her head fell back against the door with a thud and a tiny whimper escaped her lips.
“Okay, now um…” She took his hand, and placed a clamp between his fingers. “Press down.”
The clamp opened and Jinx guided his hand to her breast, the clamp honing in on her nipple like a hungry little mouth. Grab, release. Look at that, he’d captured a titty.
“Yum.” Wyatt flicked the end of her nipple with the pad of his finger and Jinx squeaked. That muscle tensed again, and her brows knit together.
Damn this was fun.
He did the other on his own, since by the way she was white-knuckling the edge of the wardrobe door, he didn’t figure she was capable of movement. When they were both on he stepped back, scrubbed a hand over his jaw and whistled.
“Fuck that’s pretty.”
Jinx glared at him with murder in her eyes. Wyatt reached up and gave the chain a little tug. Murder turned to pleading.
She’d liked that. Handy information that was, for torture.
She was shivering, and it wasn’t from the cold. Wyatt’s hands on her skin, his mouth on her breasts, the way he’d known instinctively how to tease her, it was almost too much. It was perfect.
Wyatt flattened his palm and stroked over the tips of her breasts, tickling the sensitive nipples, sending shockwaves of lust straight to her center. He caught her neck when she melted against him, snaked a hand down the front of her bodysuit, and slicked a finger through her folds, circling her clit with gentle pressure. His lips found hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as one finger thrust inside her.
“Wyatt,” she moaned as his fingers explored.
He broke the kiss, rested his forehead on her cheek and whispered in her ear.
“Yes, just like that,” he said. “Say it again.”
“Wyatt.” Jinx kissed him, thrust her tongue into his mouth to distract him, and pulled his hand up out of her pants.
“What?—”
“My turn.” She grinned. Smacking a hand on his chest she pushed him until the edge of the bed hit the back of his knees and he toppled down, torso propped up on his elbows.
“So soon?” He laughed. “But I want to tug that chain some more. I want to…” he ran his fingers over his lips, licked them, “…pet the kitten. She likes me. I’m sure of it.”
Jinx rolled her eyes at him and laughed. He really was adorable. Turning, she peeled her bodysuit the rest of the way off and gave him a good look at her backside.
Wyatt whistled.
“Lord woman, it just gets better and better. Come bring that over here.”
“Patience,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.
She felt more in control this way—completely naked. Somehow half naked had made her feel too exposed, vulnerable. It wasn’t how she wanted to feel right now. Right now, Mistress Jinx needed control.
She grabbed a coil of rope from the lower shelf and turned back to Wyatt.
“Obey,” she said slapping the coil of rope against her thigh as she advanced on him.
“Oh shit.”
“I want a redo of this afternoon,” she said.
“You want to elevate my knee?” he asked, scrunching his nose.
“No, I want to truss you up and go for a ride, cowboy.”
Their gazes locked. Wyatt narrowed his eyes. Jinx narrowed hers. Wyatt’s narrowed further, till only tiny slivers of blue were visible. He tapped one finger on his chin and mused.
“Mmmmm. I am…one hundred percent okay with that.” Sitting up, he pulled his shirt off in one swift movement and had his pants down around his ankles before Jinx could tell him to stop.
“Hey I thought you were going commando tonight?” she asked when she saw his boxer briefs.
There was a beat and then Wyatt started pulling them off.
“Wait,” she said, stopping him. “Leave the briefs on. I have plans.”
“Whatever you say.” Wyatt mashed his wrists together and held out his hands. “Ready!” He waggled his eyebrows.
Dammit, he was cute.
“First things first,” she said. “Safe word. Pick one. At any time, for any reason, say your safe word, and I will stop immediately and untie you. I promise, it’s important that—”
“Pacman,” Wyatt said without blinking. “Pacman is my safeword. Now tie me up.”
“Okay but just remember—”
“I trust you,” he said. “Implicitly. I do.”
“That’s nice to hear but the safeword is for—”
“Games. It gives us freedom, let’s us mess around with scenarios, role-play, power games. I’m not completely ignorant, I promise. The safeword means that if I get off on protesting that I don’t want to do something, I can act that out, and you know that I’m actually okay, despite my protests, because I haven’t actually tagged out on you.”
“Yeah. Yeah that’s right.” He definitely knew more than—
“Great.” Wyatt held his wrist up. “Ropes please…Mistress.”
Heaven was Jinx climbing over him naked, a glittery chain hanging from her gently swaying titties as she tied him up. He could die now a happy man. Wait. Scratch that, he’d really like to get to the fucking first.
She only tied his wrists, mumbled something about starting slow, and then looped the rope through her headboard. He tested his strength against the binding, wiggled like a damsel on a train track, and gave her a pained look. She frowned for a second but then smacked his cheek when she realized he was playing.
“Safeword. I’m serious.”
“So am I,” he said. “I promise I’ll say it if I need to. But I won’t need to.”
“Good.” She smiled, flung a leg over his body and straddled his hips. “Because I want to play with you for a while.” Leaning up over his chest she kissed him on the lips, then kissed her way down his chest, over pecs, abs, belly button. Whoa! A little tongue there. That was a surprise.
“Hey what do you like to call it?” He asked staring at the top of her head.
“What?” She sat up, squinting in confusion. “Call what?”
“Ya know.” Wyatt’s gaze flicked low then back up again. “When I’m talking dirty to you, I want to be sure I get it right. Would hate to offend her. Is pussy okay?”
Jinx frowned at him.
“Pussy is fine.”
“So for instance ‘fuck, your pussy tastes great’—that would be acceptable?”
Jinx shifted back, grinding the body part in question against his erection. Wyatt clenched his jaw, feeling the fabric of his briefs dampening with her arousal.
“A little pedestrian,” she said. “But acceptable.”
“How about the c-word?” Wyatt winced, and paused for her response.
“I don’t like it as a title.” She wiggled her bottom and then bore down, dragging her hips over his length, back and forth until he was panting. “But when referring to a body part in the heat of passion? I’ll allow it.”
Wyatt locked his gaze on hers and smiled. “So ‘I can’t wait to get my cock into that sweet wet cunt?’ That would be fine?”
Jinx sighed, blew out a breath and palmed her tits, playing with the nipple clamps as if they were an afterthought. “It’s not poetry. But we all have our talents.”
Wyatt grinned.
“How about…” he frowned for a second, thinking. “If you don’t clamp that tight little hole down on my cock in the next ten seconds, I’m going to get out of these ropes, and claim it myself.”
Wyatt bent his knees and pitched her forward at the same time that he lifted his neck, caught the chain between his teeth and pulled.
“OMG! Pacman!” Jinx shouted and pushed at his chest, laughing so hard her shoulders were shaking. “Pacman, Pacman, Pacman!”
He stopped immediately; letting the chain fall from his mouth, concern clouding his features. “Everything okay?” he said.
“Yeah, sorry.” She brushed her hair out of her face. “Just testing it out I think. I promise I don’t abuse safewords, you just surprised me.”
“Good surprise or bad surprise?” Wyatt arched an eyebrow and studied her face.
She smiled and ran a finger down his torso, then up to his pecs.
“Good,” she said, pinching a nipple, her grin turning wicked. “Shall we resume?”
Wyatt bucked again, and she squealed.
“Should’ve tied my feet woman!” He laughed and lifted his knees, trying to restrain her with his legs, then nuzzled into her neck until she giggled frantically and slapped at his chest.
“That’s it!” Jinx bounded off the bed, went back to the wardrobe, and returned to the bed with two items in hand. She held them up.
Condom in one hand. Scissors in the other.
“Fuck or be castrated?” Wyatt asked. “I choose fuck.”
Jinx put the condom wrapper between her teeth, slapped him once on each cheek, and set to work on his briefs—cutting up one thigh, then the other, and dragging the fabric out from under him so his erection sprang free, hard and long and very eager to play.
“Fuck that’s pretty,” Jinx said, taking the condom out of her mouth.
“Oh I see what you did there. If I’m no poet, why are you plagiarizing my work?”
Jinx leaned over his face, planted a hard kiss on his mouth, pinched his cheeks together, and stuffed the condom package in his mouth.
Wyatt began to protest but Jinx turned around, flung a leg over his chest and straddled his torso. Tossing a wink at him over her shoulder, she gripped his cock at the root, and bent down, ass bobbing in the air as she sucked the length of him into her mouth. Words became an abstract concept.
The condom wrapper flapped against his lips as Wyatt squeezed his eyes shut and tried hard to remember his underwater training.
Because sure as fuck he was gonna drown, cock first, in this fine woman’s mouth and he was gonna catch hell trying to explain that shit to St. Peter. But OH MY GOD, double joi
nted tongue or…what was that? Teeth? Yes, more of the teeth please.
Wyatt lifted his hands, or tried to. Shit, that’s right. He couldn’t move. But…but he wanted to touch her. This wasn’t fair. He had to touch her. Had to give this back, make her feel what he was feeling.
He opened his eyes. Big mistake.
She was bare to him. Exposed, and open, and wet, and puckering at him, like a hungry mouth, begging for kisses. For cock. Or tongue.
He spit the condom out onto the bed.
“Back it up,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “My turn.”
Jinx sucked harder and shook her head.
Pfftt. No? He’d see about that. Wyatt jacked-knifed off the bed, heard her squeal and come off his dick with a wet pop. He smiled when she hugged his legs and grinned back over her shoulder.
“You’re incorrigible.”
He smiled back. “Gimme some, or I’ll come get it.”
Jinx turned all the way around and set her hands on his chest.
“You’ll come get it?” she asked. “You’re tied up. Did you forget?”
“Won’t stop me,” he scoffed. “Hasn’t yet.”
“I saw what you did before. You cut the ropes somehow. You’re totally naked now, Wyatt. I’ve seen every inch. You can’t possibly have a knife on you. No way you can get out of my knots.”
“Wanna bet?”
“No. Just say your safe word, and I’ll let you out.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “I don’t need to. That’s not what this is about.”
She bent and kissed him, a slow deep kiss that had his cock screaming for more attention.
“Then what is it about?” she whispered.
“Fun,” he said, shrugging as best he could with his arms tied over his head. “I’m having a blast right now, and I think it would be fun as hell to bet on me getting out of these ropes.”
“Okay,” she said, her gaze searching his. “If you don’t, I know what I get as reward. I get to continue having my wicked way with you.”
“Definitely.” Wyatt nodded.
“But if you do escape? What’s your prize?”
“Up to you,” he said. “You’ve got to set your own limits.”
“Make a suggestion,” she said. “I can veto it.”
He knew what he wanted, but didn’t want to pressure her by saying it out loud. Instead he lifted his chin and let his gaze flit up to his wrists and the ropes that bound them together.