by Lori Foster
Becky watched him watching her. Her fingers seemed far clumsier than his had been, but he didn't
rush her. Instead, still glued to the sight of her breasts, he curled forward, raising his back from the
bed. Using his fist, he reached back and grabbed a handful of his open shirt, then yanked it off over
his head and down his long arms. He balled it up and tossed it over the side of the bed to the floor.
Becky paused in the middle of her stripping.
Wow, he looked good. His shoulders were hard and sleek and muscled, his chest hairy but not too
much so. He looked so ... manly, so edible, beyond mere sexy.
Becky accidentally popped the last button on her sweater, then just stared at him.
"Take it off." George leaned back on his elbows. "The bra too." As he waited for her to comply,
he toed off his shoes and let them fall over the end of the bed. They hit her carpeted floor with
a soft thunk.
There was no embarrassment, not yet, not with the hungry way George watched her. Using the
excuse of putting her sweater and bra on a chair, she crossed the room to the door and shut it.
Shadows enveloped them.
George asked, "Where's the light?"
"We don't need the light." Becky peeled off her sweater and bra and strode back to him.
There were two heartbeats of silence. "Now, sweetheart, how can I see you without a light?"
He spoke so gently, his tone cajoling, that Becky wished she could relent. But she couldn't, so she
teased as she slipped back into the bed with him. "And here I was under the impression you already
knew where everything was." She reached out, felt his chest, and pushed him flat. "Isn't that right?"
"Becky..."
She trailed her hands down his body to the top of his slacks, effectively cutting off his protest. He
drew in a sharp breath and his hands caught hers.
"Let me," she said.
His hands dropped to his sides. "You're pushing me, babe. And I'm already on the edge."
"Good." She loved the idea that she, Becky Harte, could drive a man to the edge.
"Not good. I want you with me."
"I'm right here." She shoved the material over his hips. "Lift up."
He lifted, but said, "No way, Becky. You're eons behind me."
She got his slacks all the way to his ankles and pulled them off with his socks. Taking a deep breath
for courage, she explained, "I've thought about how I want to do this at least a hundred times, George. And that's just since yesterday. Please, just lay back and let me have my fun, okay?"
His hesitation was thick and unnerving. Then with a growl, he dropped back. "Somehow, I just know
I'm going to regret this."
His legs were so long, she wondered briefly if he'd overreach the length of the footcuffs. As she
touched his legs, she felt how his muscles had tensed, his thighs hard as steel. She glanced up at
his face, but all she could really see was the glitter of his eyes. "Relax, George."
"Ain't gonna happen, babe."
She stroked the inside of his thigh. "Try." Becky cleared her throat, then touched his erection through
the soft cotton of his boxers.
They both flinched, then both groaned.
"Damn."
Becky said, "Yeah." She touched him again, explored his length. "You feel even bigger than I remembered."
"A figment of your imagination." He sounded suspiciously anxious to convince her of that.
Before she could chicken out, Becky caught the elastic waistband of his underwear and dragged
them off him. George shifted his legs to help, and again reached for her.
Becky decided it was past time she got him contained before she forgot herself and everything got
ruined.
She fell on top of him, kissed him wildly to divert his attention. He went still for a moment in surprise before his big hands closed over her naked back and hugged the breath right out of her. The feel of
his chest hair against her nipples was incredible. Becky closed her eyes and absorbed the tantalizing stimulation.
"Becky." He started to stroke his way down her back.
"You're still wearing your skirt."
"Mmmm." Becky shifted to kiss his chest, to lick her way up to his shoulder, to his biceps. She loved
his various textures—crisp hair, sleek warm skin, bulging muscles. His arms went slack and she trailed
her fingertips to his wrists, then stretched his arms up over his head. The position had her hovering
over him, her breast near his mouth.
"Lean down a tiny bit, babe."
She did, at the same time he lifted his head. His mouth closed over her nipple hungrily. It was enough
to leave Becky witless with pleasure.
It wasn't easy, but she forced herself to remember the plan. She pushed his right arm higher, fumbled
for the cuff, and closed it around his wrist.
George went still. He released her breast.
Quickly, before he could get cold feet, Becky did the same with his right arm. She pulled the Velcro
tight but his wrists were so thick, there was barely enough length to the cuff to wrap around and hook.
"Uh, Becky ..." He sounded bewildered, and Becky felt him tug experimentally against the restraints.
Thank God they held. Her hands had been shaking so badly, she wasn't sure she'd fastened them right.
She sat back, which meant she literally sat on his abdomen. "Can . .. can you see me, George?"
Again his arms strained. "Damn right I can see you! What the hell are you doing?"
Uh-oh. Becky leaned over him and felt on the nightstand for the blindfold. "Here, let's get this on you."
"No! Damn it, wait a minute ..." He twisted, but Becky easily got the elasticized band hooked across
his eyes. "Becky." There was a wealth of warning in his tone.
Becky bit her lip. She wasn't quite sure what to make of his new attitude. "You promised, George."
"Like hell I did!" He jerked hard, making the bed shake and almost tumbling Becky from her perch
on top of him. "You're the one who wants to be restrained, not me."
Becky gasped. "That's not true! You said you understood, that you'd indulge me. You said we were
in agreement."
"We agreed I'd tie your sexy little ass down. I didn't say jackshit about this being done to me." He
yanked hard again and Becky thought it was a wonder the bedposts didn't crack. "Now unfasten
the damn things."
Her heart beat too fast and her face burned. Becky moved off him so she was no longer astride him.
"Oh no. This is just awful."
"It's going to get a lot more awful if you don't undo these damn things right—now."
He sounded so outraged, Becky wasn't sure it would be wise to let him loose. "George, please calm down." She sounded near tears and hated herself. "It's a misunderstanding, that's all. And I'm sorry.
I'll unfasten you if you promise to just go."
"Go?"
"I don't want to argue about this and I don't want a huge confrontation. I'm embarrassed enough as
it is ..."
He'd stopped struggling halfway through her diatribe. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm not
going anywhere." His voice dropped to a growl. "We're going to make love."
Becky stared through the darkness at him. "Oh no. We can't now."
He practically vibrated with tension, with anger, then burst out, "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck ..."
"George!"
He groaned, he cursed again. Finally, he took a deep breath. "You're saying you won't have sex
with me unless I let you keep me this way?"
Becky bit her lip. He was definitely outraged. She nodded her head, realized
he couldn't see her,
and said, "I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't mean to mislead you."
"No, I mean why do I have to be restrained. Did some asshole hurt you? Are you afraid I'd
hurt you?"
"What? No!" His misconceptions further flustered her.
"It's nothing like that." She leaned over him and cupped his face. "I trust you, George. And I want
you. I want you so much, it's killing me. But it'd have to be this way or ... or not at all."
She felt him breathing, felt the rise and fall of his chest beneath her. Then he spoke, his voice
husky, his words enticing. "Are you wet, Becky?"
Oh, she knew this new tone. He was interested again, rethinking things. Becky touched his mouth
with her fingertips and answered in a barely there whisper. "I don't know."
"Take the rest of your clothes off, okay, sweetheart?"
She was almost afraid to hope. "You've changed your mind? You're going to make love to me
after all?"
"Yeah, I'm going to make love to you." He laughed, a sound of irony and frustration. "Or rather,
you're going to have to make love to me, all things considered."
Becky kissed him very gently. "I'd like that."
His voice deepened even more. "Then finish taking your clothes off."
"Is it okay if I fasten your ankles first?"
He groaned. "Yeah, what the hell. If that's what it takes."
To Becky, he sounded in pain. She twisted around and quickly caught each ankle to a bedpost so that
his long strong legs were held open. Curiosity got her, and she trailed her fingertips up his thighs until
she located his erection. "Is it okay if I do this too?"
"God yes."
His hips lifted with her first tentative touch. She lightly wrapped her fingers around him, amazed
at how big he was, how he filled her hand.
"Harder."
Thrilled with the instruction, Becky used both hands to hold him, and stroked. Now he definitely
sounded in pain, but she wasn't so innocent that she misunderstood. He was painfully aroused, and
he was enormous.
"I'm going to take my panties off, George."
She could hear his labored breathing in the otherwise quiet room. His head turned toward her, but
Becky knew he couldn't see her. The room was dark enough without lights; under the blindfold,
he wouldn't be able to distinguish a single thing, much less her scarred leg.
Still, she left her skirt on. It wouldn't hinder their lovemaking in any way.
"Becky?"
"Yes?"
"If you're going to touch my cock, then I want you to sit on my stomach, with your back to me."
Naked beneath her skirt, shivering at his sexy suggestion, Becky climbed back into the bed.
"How come?"
"I want to feel you, wet and hot, on my belly."
Her muscles all clenched at the provocative way he said that. He was pretty good at this business
of talking dirty. She liked it.
Breathless, she said, "Okay," and again straddled him, this time as per his instructions. Slowly, her
breath held, she lowered herself until she was flush against him, her thighs around his waist. His
skin was hot, slightly hairy. She braced her shaky hands on his hipbones. "Like this?"
"Mmmm. Oh yeah. You are wet, Becky, and so hot. You want me, don't you?"
Somehow, this wasn't how Becky had imagined it, with him still controlling things. "I want you
a lot. I always have."
"That's a good thing since I'm not at all sure how much control I have left."
Becky began touching him, and he muttered in a rush, "None. I don't have any control left."
"Just give me a few minutes." His penis was hard, throbbing with life. The velvety texture amazed
her. She didn't know what she had expected, but this was much more exciting than any fake rubber
penis could ever be.
"Becky..."
She cupped his testicles, now drawn tight, and cradled them gently in her palm. They felt so
different from his penis, she couldn't help but explore them.
George's legs shifted against the bonds. He groaned.
His scent was strong, that of musk and male and sex.
Adding that to the combined influences of his size, his heat, his body, and his understanding, and
Becky felt swollen with need. She'd had no idea that it would be like this, so personal, so hot and
still so tender. She wanted to experience everything and wallow in this opportunity to be with him.
"I love how you smell, George." She bent low to inhale deeply. His abdomen contracted against her mound, he lifted just a bit, pressing closer. She rubbed her nose against him, brushed him with her
cheek.
"Becky," he warned again.
She stroked the head of his erection with her thumb, and felt him flex in her hand. "I still don't
know how this is going to fit inside me."
"Oh God." He trembled, then growled. "That's it. Turn around, Becky."
She looked over her shoulder. "Why?"
"Because I'm going to come." His voice was low with desperation, urgent. "You have to take me
now, babe, or I'm going to embarrass myself."
Becky hesitated only a second before scurrying around on him. He wanted her, needed her, and
she was more than ready herself. "Let me grab the condom."
He gave another pained laugh. "Lord help me."
"It'll be okay," she promised.
"Have you ever put a rubber on a guy before?"
"No. But I read the instructions, and I practiced on a banana."
The bed shook with his startled laugh, and his raging lust. "I think I've just been insulted."
"Not at all. It was a big banana." Because she'd already gone through about half a dozen condoms
from the box during her practice, she ripped the package open like a professional. She was rather
proud of herself. "I also bought the large-sized ones, so at least I know the condom ought to fit."
"You'll fit me too, sweetheart. I promise."
"I need a light so I can see you. Just a sec." She'd thought that out, too, and flipped on a very dim
night light. "Can you see?"
He sighed. "Not a damn thing, but I imagine you're getting an eyeful."
Becky stared at his naked body, spread-eagle and bound. There were thick shadows, but they only enhanced the clench of muscles, the length of bones, the texture of hair.
The throbbing of his cock.
"Oh yes." She laid the condom on his thigh and began running her hands all over him, absorbing
him, relishing him. "George, you are so incredible."
"Becky." Her name emerged as a raw groan. "You're killing me, sweetheart."
"Could I... kiss you?"
He held his breath. "Where?"
"Here." Becky gently pressed her mouth to his erection.
He strained against her and for a startling moment, she thought he might break free. Better not
to try that again.
She moved over his thighs, held him steady, and rolled on the condom. "Does that feel right?"
"Fine. Great. Now ride me. Right now."
Ride him? The things he said were guaranteed to make her melt. Shoving her skirt out of the way,
Becky poised over him. "Tell me if I do this wrong."
She clasped his penis in one hand, braced herself with the other, and lowered onto him. The broad
head nudged against her and she gasped. George trembled, every muscle in his body stark and
delineated. "More."
Becky bit her lip and forced herself to settle down onto him. He was barely inside her, and already
he felt much too
big.
"I don't know about this, George."
His arms were pulled tight against the bonds, his body slightly arched. "You need to . .." He
swallowed hard. "You need to get yourself wetter. Move the head of my dick around, yeah,
like that. Oh God ..."
Becky closed her eyes, liking how that felt.
His teeth clenched. "Now try again, babe."
She did, and this time the head pushed inside her. Becky froze at the discomfort of it. Her muscles clamped down on him, squeezing.