Reluctantly, he pulled away from her delightful mouth and stared down into her eyes. He tucked a finger under her chin and traced her full, lower lip with his thumb. “Would you be overly offended if I said I want to fuck you until dawn?”
She smiled, and he was glad to say goodbye to the emotional knot that had been squeezing his throat. He didn’t want his time with her spoiled with all the baggage that dragged him down. He wanted the same joy her music had given him to accompany their joining, and her looking at him as if he was a charity case wasn’t what he needed or wanted from her. He knew her light would chase away his darkness—maybe only for a single night, but he’d worry about that later.
“Offended?” she said. “I don’t think that’s the right word for what I’m feeling right now.”
“What are you feeling?” He palmed her breast, his fingertips tracing the rope that still crisscrossed her chest.
“Inspired,” she said.
His eyebrows shot up. “You want to write music? Now?”
She shook her head. “I’ll show how inspired I am by you, if you’ll let me.”
“Allow me to untie you and you can show me anything you like.”
Kellen unwound what was left of the ropes from Dawn’s shoulders. He took his time, not because he didn’t feel an urgency to possess her, but because he wanted this to last for as long as possible. As he removed the ropes, he massaged and kissed her pale skin, making sure each freckle was given proper attention.
Her fingertips clung to his shoulders as he slowly made his way down her chest. When his lips rubbed over her nipple, she sighed, and then she moaned when his tongue flicked out to trace the hardened bud. He suckled her, his hand gently kneading her soft flesh. It was as if her breasts had been molded specifically to fill his palms.
“Kellen.”
He loosened more ropes and lavished her other breast with attention. Adoration.
Her hands began to explore his shoulders, roam his chest, thread through his hair. It felt so good to be touched. He fought the urge to hurry in untying her legs so she’d wrap them around him. Imagining her heels pressed into the backs of his thighs, her calves hugging his ass, had him fumbling with the ropes at her waist. He didn’t give her belly half the attention it deserved as he hurriedly untied the knots surrounding her belly button. He made his way lower, lower, until her pussy was too close to resist. He devoured her, teasing her clit with rapid flicks of his tongue until she was moaning and dripping fluids. Damn, she tasted good as he dipped his tongue into her opening and swirled it around again and again to collect every drop of her arousal.
Her hands held the back of his head as he lost himself in her scent, her taste, but her legs were still tied wide open, and he wanted them around him, pulling him into her. He wanted her free when he took her, and his rigid cock was throbbing, demanding entry into her slick warmth.
Crouched between her thighs, he leaned back and peered up at her, waiting for her eyelids to flutter open before he spoke.
“Do you have any condoms?” He had some in his wallet—Owen’s back-up stash of all things—which was out in the glovebox of his rental car, but he’d rather not have to go out there to find them if it wasn’t necessary.
“In my purse,” she said and then she chuckled. “They’ve been in there a while. They might be expired.”
“Where’s your purse?”
“Finish untying me and I’ll get them,” she said.
“But I’m not sure I can wait that long.”
“Then cut the ropes. Not that I’m not enjoying all this attention. It’s just the longer you take, the more inspired I feel.”
He still wasn’t sure what she meant by being inspired, but he knew in order to find out, he was going to have to free her legs. He hesitated only because he knew that once she was free, there was no turning back. He wouldn’t be able to stop even if his conscience was calling him every kind of cheater. A lecher. A weak man without principles.
He found the knife on the floor and carefully used it to cut the ropes from her thighs, then at the knee, and finally each ankle. She stretched her legs out in front of her, and he rubbed her hips to help her regain full mobility.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Better than okay.” She scooted forward and wrapped both arms and legs around him to hold him close. “Perfect.”
She kissed his jaw, his neck. He fought the instinct to deny himself pleasure—he’d been denying it for so long that enjoying it, seeking pleasure, felt foreign. Foreign and wonderful.
“But I think we can improve on perfect,” she whispered.
Her lips trailed over his collarbones, her hands roamed his back, and her legs tightened around his hips, forcing his cock against the heat between her thighs. He needed that condom like yesterday.
“Dawn?”
“Hmm?” she murmured, nibbling a delightful trail around one of his nipples.
“I could really use that condom right about now.”
She looked far too devious for comfort when she lifted her gaze to his. “I’ll go get them. You climb up here on the piano and wait for me.”
“But—” But he’d wanted her on the piano while he stood between her thighs and plunged into her.
“I want to show you how you’ve inspired me.”
And he did want to experience that, even if it meant he had to wait a while longer to possess her.
He helped her down from the piano, unable to keep his eyes off her gorgeous ass as she hurried toward the kitchen. She’d looked amazing all bound in ropes, but she looked even more beautiful without a single adornment impeding his view of her smooth, white skin. He completely forgot to climb up on the piano until she was headed back in his direction with something in her hand.
He put his back to the piano and was about to do a triceps curl to hoist himself up, when she waved one hand.
“Wait,” she said. “I see a problem.”
He glanced around in confusion. She approached him and hooked her fingers in his borrowed boxer shorts.
“You won’t be needing these.”
She tugged his shorts down and jerked back unexpectedly when his cock sprang free in her face. She chuckled. “Whoa, big guy. Are you trying to black my eye?”
“That wasn’t its target, no.”
She laughed and helped him remove his shorts entirely. Then she stood and patted the surface of the piano lid.
“Up here,” she said.
Who was he to argue with her inspiration? He propelled himself upward to sit on the piano, and she nibbled on her lip as she stared at him.
“Open your legs.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. That’s the kind of thing he was supposed to say to her.
“Do I have to tie you?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Not this time, but I’d love to show you a few knots.”
He did as she instructed and watched her—completely intrigued and entranced—as she bent over him. The feel of her tongue tracing the crease between his balls made him jerk upright.
“Dawn?”
“Don’t interrupt,” she said. “It’s your turn to be driven mad by someone’s mouth.”
He groaned in bliss as she suckled his sac.
He watched her kiss and lick and use her lips to massage his most sensitive skin until he couldn’t handle the sight of her giving him so much pleasure. He squeezed his eyes shut and allowed himself to feel the heat and moisture of her mouth, the heaviness of his balls, the unbearable throb pulsing down the length of his cock. He shifted slightly so he could bury both hands in the thick lustrous mass of her hair. He coaxed her head toward his cock, slowly, as if she wouldn’t notice. She nibbled, kissed, and suckled the flesh all around the base of his shaft, but no amount of tugging on her hair convinced her to take his tip into her mouth.
“Dawn,” he pleaded when he couldn’t stand the ache in his groin another moment. She gave his balls a thorough licking and then blew cooling breaths over the damp surface. He w
as trembling so hard he feared he’d collapse.
She paused in her exquisite torture, and he pried his eyes open to look down at her. She smiled reassuringly and reached for one of the candles burning nearby. His eyes widened when she blew out the flame and tipped the candle over his body until wax dribbled onto his belly. His abs contracted involuntarily as she drew a trail in wax from his belly button down, down toward his cock.
“Wait!” he cried. While a little molten heat on his belly was exciting, there were areas that he’d rather she didn’t burn with wax.
“Shh,” she said. “I trusted you completely. You owe me the same courtesy.”
Yeah, but he’d known what he was doing. He’d never have hurt her in any way.
But she hadn’t known that. She had placed her complete trust in him. He cringed, prepared to breathe through the pain as the hot, slow trickle of wax got closer and closer to his cock. Less than an inch shy of his throbbing shaft, she righted the candle and blew a soothing breath over the hardening wax. She started at his belly again and trickled another line of wax parallel to the first, again slowly moving toward his cock. He held his breath as the hot trail burned closer and closer to her target. Surely this time she’d… But no, she started another new trail on his belly. When she ran out of wax, she reached for a second candle. When her lips pursed to blow out the flame, he groaned. Dear lord, she was sensual. She smiled when her fourth trail of wax caused a bead of pre-cum to seep from the opening at the tip of his cock.
“Is this turning you on?” she asked, her voice low.
His answer was a groan of torment. If she didn’t touch his dick soon, he was going to die. The fifth line of hot wax had him sucking air between his teeth and his cock jerking with over excitement. A bead of moisture dripped from the rim of his cock head, and she caught it with her tongue, looking at him with those incredible eyes as she rubbed the small drop of fluid against her upper lip.
“Do you want me?” she asked, reaching for one of two condom packages resting near his hip.
His stomach ached, he was so turned on, but he couldn’t find the mental capacity to even nod. She tore the package open and removed the circle of cream-colored latex. He shuddered as her hand wrapped around his thick, hard-as-granite shaft. She directed his head into her mouth and the pleasure caused his arms to give out. The back of his head thumped against the piano lid, but he didn’t care. All he could focus on was the bliss Dawn’s mouth gifted him.
“Oh God, baby,” he moaned.
He groaned in misery when he fell free of his mouth. She rolled the condom down his length and then stepped away. His eyes flipped open when the piano keys pinged discordantly. She climbed onto the lid of the piano with him and placed a hand on his hip to coax him toward the center of the piano. Lying on his back on her beloved instrument, he felt panic seize his heart. What was he doing?
She straddled his hips, staring into his eyes, her glorious red hair surrounding her shoulders like a shimmering cloak. She held his gaze as she reached between her legs, grasped his cock, and rubbed its tip against her opening.
He squeezed his eyes closed. His stomach was in knots. He could scarcely breathe.
“Look at me, Kellen,” she said gently. “It’ll be okay.”
He opened his eyes, focused on Dawn’s face, her eyes, and a bit of the panic receded. He slipped inside her, and she moved her hand so she could take him inch by glorious inch. When he was buried deep, her eyes drifted closed.
“I feel you, Kellen,” she whispered. “Inside my body. Inside my soul. I feel you.”
“Yes,” he said breathlessly, not sure why his heart was thudding so hard or why his eyes were stinging with threatening tears.
She began to rise and fall over him, churning her hips to increase her stimulation and drive him deeper. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she gave his body unparalleled pleasure. He wasn’t sure if it was because she’d gotten him so excited beforehand, but sex had never felt so good. Maybe his memory was just iffy because it had been so long, but he didn’t think so. Dawn just felt good, felt right. Felt safe and warm, exciting and soothing, all at once.
He lifted his hands to massage her breasts as she made love to him. When she began to croon as her orgasm approached, he shifted the palm of his hand to her lower belly and massaged her soft mound with his thumb.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Almost, Kellen.”
Her motions became exaggerated as she sought orgasm. His thumb slipped into the cleft between her swollen lips and rubbed her clit. Her back arched and she cried out, her thighs trembling and her pussy clenching around him as she shattered.
He struggled into a seated position and ran both hands over her smooth back, bending to kiss her throat, her jaw, her lips. She rubbed her breasts against his chest as her arms went around him to hold him close. She dropped her head to his shoulder and took a deep breath.
“I knew you’d be perfect,” she said. “Inside me. Perfect.”
They clung to each other for a long moment. Kellen’s cock began to protest the stillness between them.
He rolled her onto her back, maintaining the connection between their bodies. Her grip loosened just enough for him to thrust.
Ah God, she felt good. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted to plunge into her tight pussy for hours.
He could hear himself chanting her name, feel the tightening in his balls as orgasm approached, but it was almost as if it was happening to someone else. He pumped his hips harder and faster. Taking her. Taking her. Harder and harder. Scooting her along the piano lid until the back of her head dropped off the far edge. She’d been making love to him, he’d felt her in every particle of his being, but he was fucking her and it was hardly as satisfying. He paused to catch his breath and find his bearings. He looked down to find her watching him. The single candle still burning made her eyes sparkle.
“Are you okay?” she asked, touching his cheek with one hand. “Why did you stop?”
He didn’t think he could speak, so he kissed her gently. Every nerve ending in his body seemed to be on edge. Still kissing her, he cradled the back of her head in one hand and by inching downward and drawing her down to meet him, eased her into a less perilous position on the piano. Once he’d regained a little sense, he said, “Sorry I lost control like that. I’ll take it slower.”
“I don’t mind it rough, if that’s what you like.”
But he didn’t like it fast and rough as much as he liked it slow and tender. He knew he hadn’t been fucking her as hard as possible because it felt good—he’d been hammering himself into Dawn because Sara never allowed him to fuck her hard like that and he was still struggling with the reality of what he was doing. Enjoying Dawn bothered him. Not enough to make him stop, but enough to get in the way of what he truly desired. He was finally making progress, but he was a long way from being free enough to give Dawn the care and affection she deserved. If she hadn’t been so understanding and patient, he’d have probably already left out of guilt.
“What do you like?” he asked.
“Both. But right now I’d like it slow. It gives me more time to think about how good it feels,” she said.
And that, he decided, was what he would concentrate on until he couldn’t hold back for another instant. Making her feel good. For as long as possible.
With a new purpose, and strict concentration, he began to move his hips again, watching her face for signs that he was getting it right. He found a slow, deep, grinding rhythm that made her writhe beneath him and moan in bliss. It took him a few minutes to realize he was making love to her to the rhythm of the ocean waves, the rhythm of her song, and apparently the rhythm of their bodies.
He believed in fate and destiny, knew in his heart that people were drawn to each other for a reason. From the moment he’d heard Dawn struggling to compose that song, he’d felt her pull on him. He was supposed to be with her. Maybe not making love to her on a piano during a power outage, but he knew that there was somethi
ng cosmic about their joining. A reason they’d met. A reason she was so wonderful and accepting and downright irresistible.
Dawn framed his face with both hands and stared deep into his eyes as his pleasure escalated, one thrust, one crest at a time, higher and higher until he felt as if he’d lost contact with the earth and spiraled into the heavens. His muscles tautened as spasms of intense release pulsated deep inside him. He gripped her shoulders to hold her still as he drove himself deep and let go. This was more than a physical release. Years of pain and turmoil seemed to pump out of him with an even greater intensity that his erupting fluids.
His lower lip began to tremble and he knew he was about to completely lose it, so he lowered his body on Dawn’s and buried his face in her neck. He hoped she thought all those ragged breaths bursting from his lungs were due to physical exertion. How terrible would she feel if he did something as mortifying as cry while he spent himself inside her?
He refused to find out. He reburied some of his anguish, shoving it back into a familiar place where he could save it to dwell upon another day. He just couldn’t let go of it all at once. He probably should have taken it a little slower with Dawn—not jumped in the fire with both feet. But it was too late for misgivings now. He was completely engulfed in her flames and had no desire to escape, even if the ties of his past were wrenching him in the opposite direction.
Tie Me (One Night with Sole Regret #5) Page 10