Her own mischievous smile empowered her again. She reapplied her lipstick, a shade she thought would be better named "hussy red" than "pillar box," checked her profile, and took a deep breath as she left the bathroom.
What a sight. He looked like some fantasy painting by Boris Vallejo, one of her favorite artists. Vallejo depicted men of power and muscle in fantasy scenarios, and Tommy looked that way now, like a mighty warrior bound and imprisoned.
She could have admired him all evening, but she still had an agenda—and a point to prove. She reached over to the bedside cabinet and opened the drawer. Pulling out the CD Clayton had signed for her earlier that week she waved it in front of his face. "This is what I wanted to see Clayton about, an autograph for my friend. None of you actually believed a word I said."
He gave a soft sigh. "I'm sorry. I can see it's the truth, and that it really matters to you."
"Of course it does."
"You have to admit, you did look as if you were up to something dodgy, shooting out of a private dressing room, don't you think? If you'd been in my position, you'd have thought the very same thing."
She wriggled her shoulders. He was right, but she wanted him to believe her now, above all. "It's the assumption that annoys me. If you had believed me in the first place, maybe you wouldn't have abandoned me in a hotel room—"
"I didn't abandon you," he interrupted. "I came back."
He came back. "...and you wouldn't be in this situation."
"This 'situation' isn't so bad." He winked. "If I'd have believed you, and you'd got your autograph, I wouldn't have had a reason to spank you, my dear." He grinned at her, moving his arms and nodding at his tethering. "Now, why don't you untie me, and we can get down to something much more satisfying than arguing about how we met."
"Not so fast, buddy."
"Kelly..." There was a plea there now, and a frown had appeared on his forehead.
"I figured the pain of a sustained erection might be a punishment in a league of its own."
He stared at her, uncomprehending at first. Then his lips tightened. "You're probably right, but aren't you punishing yourself for the sake of punishing me? Don't you want to come again, and again? I can make you, you know I can."
Her sex clenched. She sighed audibly. "Oh, don't worry so." She stroked his cheek, cupping it, and savoring the feel of it in her hand. "I'm not done with you yet."
She walked to the other side of the room where her underwear had landed. Pulling on her panties, she noticed his expression growing concerned.
"Where are you going? You're not going to leave me here are you?" Again he yanked on the tethering, but the PVC bondage tape just stretched and held tight, and it was the bed itself that rattled.
Luckily she'd doubled up the tape. He was a big man to keep tied up with PVC. She couldn't help laughing. He'd begun to look quite panicked. She dawdled back to him. "I have champagne on ice next-door, and I'm going to order us some snacks. I want to keep your strength up."
"My strength is just fine, I've been building up reserves all week just thinking about you, now let me prove it."
His words secretly thrilled her, but she waved her hand around the room. "I spent my holiday fund on buying your time and renting this suite. I'm going to enjoy every moment of it...at my own pace."
His eyes narrowed. "I'll refund the fee, and I'll pay for the suite too, just untie me." He gazed at her longingly. "I want to get my hands on you and satisfy you properly."
She smiled. "All in good time."
As she left the bedroom, she patted the condoms in her robe pocket, and began humming the Mission Impossible theme to herself, happily.
* * * *
From the bed, Tommy could see across the reception area and through the doorway into the sitting room. Watching her sauntering back and forth was not helping his growing sense of frustration. He was seriously considering the possibility that this kind of restraint and endurance test could drive him insane. He'd be a happy man with her sitting on his face all night, as long as he could fuck her afterwards. It was like an unfinished, mouthwatering meal. He'd had his appetizers, and could see the main course on the plate. He was starving but he couldn't get to the damn thing.
She seemed to be taking great delight in wandering back and forth where he could see her, without acknowledging him. Earlier, when she'd strolled out of the bathroom looking like Modesty Blaise, his dick was up like a flagpole in an instant. Now he could hear her speaking on the phone, and it sounded like she was ordering food from room service.
Moments later, she walked across the hallway with an ice bucket and a bottle of champagne. She had a point about the suite. But when she untied him, he was going to screw her into the bed until she begged for mercy.
Before he had time to make any more plans along those lines, he heard a knock at the door and she walked out into reception, pulling a key from her robe pocket as she did, sparing him a smile as she passed.
He rolled his eyes, his ears pricking up as he heard a key in the door and voices. A moment later he saw her walk back into the sitting room. A uniformed member of staff followed with a food trolley, a man.
Shit. When the guy came back, he was almost certain to see him there. He tried to sit up on the bed, and then realized that made him even more noticeable. He could have torn himself free, but that wouldn't be playing the game, would it? He pressed his lips shut in grim determination, flattening himself against the bed as best he could, his eyes narrowed as he watched the doorway.
You've done this on purpose, you vixen.
A minute later the man emerged and skirted the table in the entrance hall, jolting to a halt when he looked into the bedroom.
Tommy tried to shut his eyes, but something in his nature made him peek with one eye. The guy straightened his bow tie, and thankfully, left. Not before smirking to himself, though. The news about the poor sod tied to the bed in Room 323 would soon be all over the hotel.
A couple of minutes later Kelly came back in. she reached over him, as if to undo his ties, but paused to stroke his jaw line. As she did, her fingers brushed the underside of it.
Yet again, she had found his danger zone. He rolled his head from side to side, trapping her fingers against the pillow.
"What is it with you there?"
"It's sensitive."
Her eyes lit. "Oh right—it's an erogenous spot?" She stroked it again, and then her gaze lowered to his groin. "Oh, that is something." She gave a soft chuckle as his erection bounced high in response to her touch.
"Kelly, please. You are driving me mad here." He could smell her perfume, mixed with the underlying aroma of her release, and he was desperate to be inside her. He wanted to let loose and screw her into the bed. If she didn't actually untie him and let him act on it, insanity was a distinct possibility. "Please."
"Oh, I do love to hear a man begging, but you're just going to have to wait." She threw a chastising glance in the direction of his erection.
That disapproving look, whether in fun or not, did strange things to him. He shut his eyes tightly for a moment, to ground himself.
"Look at the state of you. I'm going to have to make you more respectable for our après-sex canapés and champagne."
He snorted. The idea of it, while he was in this state, was surreal.
"I'm going to untie you, but you better be good." She unraveled his tethers, keeping them in her hand. "Sit on the edge of the bed."
He obliged, watching as she pulled his jeans back on, hauling them up to his knees. She nodded her head, indicating he get up.
He stood, watching as she twisted the strands of bondage tape together to make a lead.
"Versatile stuff," he commented.
"I told you last week I could make you my slave." She let the lead drop from her hand, and hauled his jeans up over his arse.
She knew he could escape. She was playing with him. Maybe she wanted him to break free. The idea pleased him. "Right now it feels as if you are my slave—
I've never been dressed by a woman before."
Humor flickered across her face. "You keep pushing the issue, don't you? I bought your time, get used to it. Anyway, I've never dressed a man before, but don't let it go to your head." He could see the laughter in her expression, even though she was trying to hide it.
"I'm playing your game, madam, but I could have you over on your back in a minute." He was hauling back his male urges to do just that, biding his time until he sensed it was what she really wanted.
"I know." She didn't bat an eyelid. "I'm the boss here. I just want to keep you as my slave for a little bit longer."
You can have me for as long as you like. He knew better than to say it aloud, though, but the urge to do so was there.
She reached for his fly, easing his cock inside his jeans with effort. She chuckled. "Getting this back in here reminds me of Clayton. When you came into the dressing room that night, you caught him in a similar situation."
He cringed, pushing the image out of his mind. "Oh, please, I'll never be able to look either of them in the eye again."
"Believe me, I was much more interested in you than the pair of them. I'd spotted you beforehand and admired your body."
Something swelled inside him. "I wish I'd known that last week."
She shrugged and fastened his shirt, slowly lingering over each button as if she was enjoying the task
Mention of Clayton and Jay reminded him of Jennifer Sandringham and the setup. "Wait a minute. It was Jay who gave you my agent's number. How in the hell did you get that out of him?"
"I shanghaied Clayton, kind of. He wasn't too pleased at first, but I convinced him."
She did the last button then lifted his lead, and twisted it to make it strong. "Come with me. Since you were such a good boy back there on the bed,"—she reached to kiss his mouth, fleetingly—"I'll let you have some nibbles and champagne."
She winked and walked off.
He had no other choice but to follow. At first it felt awkward. He felt like a lumbering fool. Then he looked at the elegant lines of her body moving inside that sheer robe of hers as she walked in front of him. Her posture was perfect, her chin lifted high, a slight smile on her face when she glanced back at him. She was amazing.
He had the urge to get down on his hands and knees and beg her for another taste. He wanted to kiss her from her ankles to the crease beneath her buttocks, and then tongue her inside. Let her take charge, he reminded himself. Yes, until later.
In the sitting room, she'd set the food out on the marble coffee table. The champagne was open and poured. She'd put rock music on the stereo and arranged two of the fur rugs on the floor, one white, one black. She urged him towards them.
He dropped down, immediately wondering what her naked body would look like against the black fur.
Before she joined him, she pulled a condom out of her pocket. Turning it in her fingers, she made sure he was watching, and then she put it on the tray with the food, on the far side out of his immediate reach.
He shook his head, smiling. "You're such a tease."
"Consider it a promise. I didn't want you to think I was being too cruel."
"Maybe just cruel enough..?"
Her eyes sparkled.
He looked up at her, watched the shift of her breasts under the gauzy robe.
She noticed and sat down nearby, smiling to herself. "So, you're an uncle?"
"Just, yes. I've got one sister, Carol, and it's her first. Although she claims she wants a half dozen. God help us all. I think she means it."
"You're a family man?" There was wary curiosity in her expression.
"Never really thought about it, but I guess so. Our parents retired to Spain, so I watch out for her. Jim, Carol's husband, he's a great guy, and a real computer genius, but he has no business sense." He winked.
She nodded, but her eyelids were lowered, hiding her reaction from him. It was as if she wanted to know, but didn't.
"So...I take care of that side of things for them. We share a business, a computer business. Mail order and shop. Our parents are flying in soon enough though, to meet their first grandchild."
She had knelt up and was moving dishes about on the coffee table, for no real reason. Had he said too much?
"What about you? Family?"
She shook her head and put a plate of snacks in between them. "I share a flat with two friends. My mother lives on the south coast. She has a guest house there. That's it." She reached for a glass and swigged champagne.
He could tell she didn't want him to pry any further, so he turned his attention to the food. "Looks good." He wasn't hungry at all, but he knew she'd have to feed him and that was going to be something.
She nodded, pleased, and lifted the flute of champagne to his lips. It was chilled and delicious, hitting the back of his throat in a flavor-filled froth. She'd spared no expense, and she said she worked in a gym. Could she really afford this? She said it was her holiday money. She wanted this badly enough, he didn't miss that. But he was going to make Daniel pay her back.
She fed him asparagus spears and caviar on delicate thinly sliced toasts. "Good?" she asked.
"Oh, yes." It was all very luxurious, but he barely noticed. His concentration was on her, her fingers at his mouth, her lips parting when he ate the food from her fingertips. It was erotic, with her so sexily dressed and that look of satisfaction she had about her. Sex made her look different. More relaxed maybe, or mellow.
And there was the fact that he kept getting flashes of her pussy through the transparent material of her panties, when her robe shifted. He could see the soft, dark hair at her groin. It drew his attention to the groove where he was longing to bury himself. She might have dressed him for "après-sex canapés," as she called it, but, as far as he was concerned, she was still dressed to be fucked—gloriously fucked.
The champagne seemed to kick in, and she sprawled out on the fur rug, lying on one side, her legs elegantly aligned, toes pointed, her ankle seeming to invite a kiss.
"You took a risk, setting this up," he said, curious.
The champagne had definitely got to her. Her eyes had a dreamy look about them. "Yes, but if you'd walked out on me, I still had the suite to enjoy." She didn't seem surprised by his comment.
He supposed people remarked on her devil-may-care attitude a lot. "It was a crazy thing to do."
"Like I said before, life is short. I like to have fun." Her gaze ran over him. "Nothing to lose," she murmured.
"And everything to gain?" He chuckled.
She shook her head, not smiling. "Just nothing to lose. That's the way I like it."
The laughter faded on his lips. Why did that make his chest feel heavy? He sensed her creating distance between them again. She was wary, wary of getting close.
"But you came after me."
She stared at him for a long moment before she replied. "For one more night, Tommy, one more night."
"But you came after me," he insisted. She had to want more.
She reached over and silenced him with a kiss, but it was too late. He knew. She was as prickly as a wounded hedgehog, and she'd rolled into a ball so he couldn't pick her up. Don't press her, he warned himself. He felt something hankering inside him, though. Need. He wanted to carry her to the bed now, and every night. He wanted to keep her in his arms. Instead he returned her kiss and when she moved back to lie on her side again, he got to his knees and bent down to kiss her ankle, where it had attracted his attention earlier.
She gave a pleasured sigh, and he knew he was back on track. He stroked the top of her foot with one knuckle, his bound hands useless to do more. Tracing the curve of her calf muscle with his lips, he breathed across her skin. She trembled beneath him. He kissed the side of her knee, and then leaned over and tongued the back of it. Her hands clutched at the rug, her fingers so pale, digging in against the black fur.
Moving up her thighs, he breathed in the aroma of her pussy. It was intoxicating, so seductive to him. W
ith his tethered hands, he traced the camber of her back, where it dipped and then flared at her hips. Her bottom was perfect, soft and firm. He bent his head and ran his tongue over the surface of her panties, gratified when he heard her give a whimper of frustration. She wanted it. So did he.
His dick was practically poking through his jeans, his lower back aching with restraint. He licked her belly, dipping into her navel and shuffling up on his knees to reach beneath her breasts, where her skin was salty. He took the rigid peak of one nipple into his mouth, exploring its knotted surface with his tongue.
She was on her back and undulating against the rug, her body arching. Then her fingers moved to stroke his hair and when he glanced up he saw that she had lifted her head and was looking at him, her expression intense, her lips parted with anticipation.
He turned his face into her fingers and kissed them. "Untie me, please," he whispered. "I need to be inside you."
"Show me how much you want it," she whispered, propping herself up and nodding at his hands where they were bound.
He knelt up, lifted his wrists in front of his chest. Tensing his muscles, he pulled, stretching the tape beyond its capacity, ripping it and breaking free.
"Oh, Tommy." She took a deep intake of breath. She rolled flat onto her back, seeming to melt into the rug, her robe pooling around her. She was breathing heavily.
Pulling the stands of tape free, he grabbed at his shirt buttons, popping several of them in his haste. She watched as he threw off the shirt and leaned over, lifting the condom from the tray. He unzipped his jeans, took his dick in his hand and rolled the condom on, her gaze making him proud.
"I've longed for this," he whispered, as his mouth descended towards hers again. He peeled her panties down her legs and she slipped the robe off her shoulders. He hauled her body to his. She tilted her head back, her eyes heavy with desire, fingers entwined in his hair. She was all woman and he wanted to be inside her. Her lips were eager and moist, parting readily to take his tongue. She caressed his neck, and then slid one hand down to feel the muscles on his chest.
Sex,Lies, and Bondage Tape Page 8