“Wait!” Sam sat up. “Don’t go!”
That was all Scott needed. In seconds he was on top of her, his hands on her wrists, his hard thighs pressing hers open.
“You want me?” he breathed, the heat of his mouth making her ear tingle.
“Yes.” Sam struggled a little against his hold so that she could feel the strength being used against her. Scott smiled and tightened his fingers—locking them around her wrists like manacles. “You’ve been a bad girl, Samantha.”
He pressed his hips against hers and she moaned as she felt the hot press of his cock. Sam liked different positions, but this had always been her favourite, on her back with a man’s weight bearing down on top of her. It made her feel—
safe
—wanted in a way that the more athletic positions lacked. You were so close in missionary, you could touch and feel almost everything. It was insanely intimate and sexually charged. It had been her unfortunate discovery that most men didn’t share in her enjoyment of the position. They preferred her on top, doing all the work while they lay below and fondled her tits.
“Samantha?” Scott muttered in her ear. “Are you with me?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Trying to ignore the way her hips were aching, asking her to push up against him and feel that most validating of sensations—him hard against her thigh. Then she remembered the way he’d sat crouching at her window, the way he had all those years ago, and the throb of wistfulness that went through her was so strong she needed to say something, to ruin this before she inevitably ruined this. She let her arms relax, smiling patronizingly at him. Scott’s hands tightened around her wrists. “You know, I had sex as soon as I went to university. As soon as I got to London, actually.”
“Congratulations. Took you long enough.”
“It took me no time at all because here’s the thing, I didn’t stay a virgin because no one wanted to fuck me.”
Sam’s heart was pulsing against her chest, only it couldn’t have been, because the ache was between her breasts, where hippies said the fourth chakra lay. The heart chakra. “So why did you stay a virgin?”
There was a moment, a hot silvery moment when Sam was sure he was going to say something they couldn’t come back from. Then Scott bent forward, his mouth inches from hers. “Because I wanted you. I wanted you to be my first.”
Sam’s throat tightened. She’d known that was the case but hearing it out loud, with such sincerity, stung. “Scott…”
“Don’t like hearing that, do you? Well too fucking bad, it’s the truth.”
He kissed her, hard and deep and wet. His hips pushed into hers, warm from the thick material of his tracksuit bottoms. He was hard beneath them and she arched her back to bring them closer together, nipping his lower lip so he knew who had agency here.
Scott’s hands tightened around her wrists. “You want to play it like that, wild girl? You want to play games here, the same way you play games everywhere else? We can do that.”
He pressed himself up on his palms and before Sam could ask what he was doing, he was drawing a long stretch of material from his pocket.
“Are they…?”
“Pulled a pair of tights off the washing line,” he said, grabbing her wrists and winding the stretchy cloth around them. “Hope you don’t mind.”
The nerve endings in Sam’s backside tingled, already getting their hopes up about what might follow. She inhaled, trying to focus on the matter at hand. “Isn’t…isn’t tying me up a bit basic?”
Scott eased her up the bed and wove the stretchy material over and around her wrists, fastening them to the headboard. “We’ll see.”
“Are we seriously doing this, Galahad?” Sam asked, unsure if she was protesting or pleading.
“Yes, we are. This is like last night when you asked me to order for you. Sometimes you don’t know what you want, you just have feelings and you want the pressure to be taken off. I can do that. You’ve been too wild for too long, you need to be brought back into line.”
“By you?” Sam said, trying and failing to sound sarcastic.
“By me,” he agreed grimly. “Didn’t know how to do it when I was a kid, but I know exactly what your game is now.”
“And that is?”
“You always liked me frustrated, didn’t you? Liked the way I used to stare at you when you walked past my house.”
Another electric shock zapped its way between Sam’s legs. “What happens if I say yes?”
He pulled the stocking tight, bending forward to examine the knot. “I already know it’s the truth. Maybe you would, too.”
Scott sat back and pulled his t-shirt over his head. Dear God, he was even more cut than she’d been expecting, lean without an inch of fat anywhere. She could almost see the places where tattoos should go. A big one on his side, another over the heart, something intricate and masculine that showed off all those ridges perfectly. She met his gaze and he grinned. “You tattooing me with your eyes, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” she said, a little embarrassed to have been caught out. “You’d look good with ink.”
“Ink you gave me?”
Fucking pre-heritage freak-out conversation. Why had she told him all that personal love/forever stuff? She raised her shoulders. “Eh?”
Scott cupped her cheek. “I used to think about this all the time. You all safe and warm in bed, me climbing in and giving us what we both wanted under cover of darkness. Did you think of me that way? Back when we were teenagers?”
No. It wasn’t that the possibility didn’t occur to her, it was that she never allowed her brain to fully process it. Probably because she knew if she did, everything regarding her pretty, posh neighbor would become a million times more complicated.
Scott’s jaw tightened. “That’s a no. I suppose that’s nothing I didn’t already know. But you’re thinking about it now, aren’t you? I bet you’ve been thinking about my mouth on you all day. You came so fucking hard, Sam. I remember that perfectly. You were squirming and humping my mouth like you couldn’t get enough of me on you at once.”
His hand slipped down her cheek to caress her neck, her collarbones, the side of her left breast, leaving a warm trail wherever his hand touched.
“Scott…?”
He looked up at her, his eyes burning blackness. “Yes?”
“Can you…” She struggled for the words. “I want us to…”
“More?”
“Yes, please.”
She’d expected Scott to torment her for asking, but he did no such thing. Instead he lifted her t-shirt, shoving it upward so it caught on the stocking around her wrists. He moaned at the sight of her bare tits, covering her right nipple with his mouth and sucking hard. Sam moaned, bucking her hips and straining her wrists. “More? Scott, more? Please?”
“I hate that I was drunk the first time I saw these,” he said, skimming a fingertip over her breasts.
“I didn’t make you drink all those cocktails,” Sam pointed out.
“Maybe not, but you made sure they kept right on coming, didn’t you?” He plucked at her right nipple. “I called that cocktail bar today. Do you know how many shots of liquor there are in those Angel’s Milk martinis?”
“One?”
“Three. Do you know how many we ordered, according to the receipt I found?”
“None?”
“Four.” He bent to her mouth, brushing his cool lips across hers. “Here’s the interesting thing, Samantha. While I was drinking Angel’s Milk, you were drinking virgin daiquiris.”
“Are you sure that wasn’t you? I know you’re a big fan of virgins.”
Scott flashed her a humourless smile. “Okay, Samantha. If that’s how you want it.”
He lifted himself off her, lowering himself down the bed so that he was kneeling between her legs. He slipped her shorts and her panties off in one fluid motion and Sam bucked up, the release of the material on her oversensitive skin making her need to move.
“Uh-uh
,” he said, pushing her hips down with his palms. “I want to look at you.”
It was a line straight out of a cheesy paperback but Scott said it with such authority, the words felt reminted. Sam gazed up at him, drinking in his unyielding expression—the look of a reasonable man pushed to his limits. It was bizarre, the confidence with which he was doing this. She’d known some bad boys in their time and none of them had ever tied her down with such ease. It seemed supremely unfair that her childhood nemesis, the posh boy next door, could be such a good match for her in bed.
“What are you thinking?”
Sam was so surprised, she told the truth. “You’re a natural at this bossy thing, Galahad. More than anyone I’ve been with.”
He rewarded her with a small, genuine smile. “So stop sending boys to do a knight’s job.”
He lowered his mouth between her legs, licking a hot, wet line through her cunt. Sam whimpered, her traitor hips arching her up, trying to prolong the sensation. He backed off a little, his breath ghosting over her aching pussy. “Scott…?”
“No,” he said sharply. “Not this time. You got what you wanted last night. This is for me.”
Sam shuddered as he ran a hand up the inside of her thigh. “What do you want?”
“I want whatever I want, whenever I want it.”
“So…you don’t know what you want?”
Scott bent forward and licked her again, his tongue flickering over her clit until she cried out loud. The instant she did, he pulled away.
“Teasing asshole!”
“That’s about the long and short of it,” Scott agreed. “You should watch your mouth. This is your punishment and if you don’t play by my rules, I’ll leave you in bed, all hot and bothered. Would you like that?”
Sam gritted her teeth, refusing to answer, which made Scott laugh merrily. “I think you might like being deprived of my cock. On some level at least. Just like you enjoy being my pretty little prisoner.”
Sam felt her nipples tighten to the point of pain and was instantly pissed off. “Do you have any idea how fucked up that sounds?”
Scott chuckled, his hand brushing along pubic bone, dipping down to stroke her slit. “Yes, but we’re not talking about real life, are we? We’re talking about the games two adults can play in bed.”
“I don’t like games.” That was true enough. She didn’t like games; she wanted this kind of thing to feel as real as consent could make it.
“That’s a shame.” Scott’s finger caressed the damp place between her lips. “Tying you up makes me feel about ten feet tall and hard as stone.”
Sam chewed her bottom lip, not wanting to show how much the idea turned her on. Scott seemed to know it anyway. He smirked as he eased two cool fingers inside her, making her cry out.
“You got the wrong impression last night,” he said, curling his fingers so she felt wonderfully, impossibly full.
“Wh-what did I get wrong?”
“How I operate, both as a man and a lover. I’ll always take care of what’s mine, but from here on out you’re going to respect me, Samantha. And when I say so, you’re going to serve me.”
“You can’t—”
“It’s what you want.” Scott rocked his hand back and forth, brushing against some incredible place. “You want to play games, Samantha, you want to be dominated. I think that’s why you’re always pushing and pulling against me. You like the thrill of it all, don’t you?”
“No.”
He leaned on the bed and kissed her, sliding his fingers so deep she gave a homely, guttural moan. She was getting close—already she was too close. Her back was arching and sweat was breaking out across her collarbone.
“It’s not a bad thing. I just didn’t realise how much you needed it, but I do now.” His fingers plunged deep, making her want his cock with a fierceness that almost frightened her. “We’re going to play together. Play together rough, you understand?”
She could have said no, she felt that sincerely, but the truth was she didn’t want to. She wasn’t going to buy in to all this bullshit about her wanting the games but she did like being tied up and she liked the heat coming off Scott, the sense that he could and would do anything he wanted with her body. She tugged against her bonds just to feel how constricted she was. “Yes.”
“Good. If you don’t want to do anything, you can say ‘windowsill’ okay?”
“Okay.”
“If you don’t say windowsill, I’m going to assume that you want me to keep going even if you say no or stop, and Samantha?”
“Yes?”
“If I get the impression you’re not enjoying this, or that you’re scheming some little scheme to get revenge on me after I’m done, I’m going to stop everything, okay?”
“Yes, fine,” she said, thinking that he was all talk. What guy could walk away from sex when it was so blatantly on the table? Let alone a guy who, by his own admission, had spent more than a decade wanting her? No man was that knightly, not even Scott.
“I can see you don’t believe me,” Scott said, his tone almost conversational. “That’s going to go badly for you.”
Sam smiled. She thought Scott would withdraw his fingers from her and go back to his second base-torture, but he didn’t. He buried his face between her legs, licking hard and fast as his fingers pumped deep. Last night he’d gone slow, letting her get used to him. This was different. He was rough, rasping his tongue over her folds in a way that said it was for his enjoyment and not her pleasure.
“You smell so good,” he said. “You taste good, too. You’re not going to come though, I can promise you that.”
Sam lay back, determined to let him have his fun, but he was right. She was so aroused it hurt, but whenever she got close he shifted, changing his technique so she couldn’t come. Soon she was chewing her mouth trying not to scream. “Scott?”
He looked up. “Samantha?”
“Can you please…?”
“Please what?”
“Christ, you’re being obnoxious.”
“Do I have to remind you that you drew a vagina on my face?”
Fair enough. She bit down on her lower lip, her teeth settling into the previous indentations, and she swallowed her pride. “Can you please let me come?”
He knelt off the bed and pulled down his jogging pants. “How about you beg me a little for it first?”
Sam gritted her teeth. She could refuse, but she could sense from Scott’s energy that he wasn’t fucking around. He would leave.
She lifted her hips to press against him. “Scott, please give me your cock?”
A smirk. “Say it again.”
Fucking hell… “Scott, please give me your cock?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Sam had to close her eyes to keep from screaming at the arrogant prick. “Yes. Okay, I want your cock! I want it now. Give it to me.”
He glanced up at her, amused triumph in his eyes. “Okay, wild girl. I’ll give it to you.”
Scott moved off the bed and shirked his clinging briefs. His cock sprang free and even from her tricky angle, Sam could see it was a nice one, long and thick without any weird bends or bulges. A few seconds later she was seeing a lot more of it.
Scott knelt beside her face, his erection inches from her mouth.
“Open wide,” he said, his voice harder than she’d ever heard it. Sam could smell the heat of male sweat and as she stared up at Scott’s handsome face, illuminated by the flickering candlelight, her core pulled tight.
I want him so badly. I’ve never wanted anyone this fucking badly.
She was aware of her own irritation, her desire to tell him to fuck off, but the desire to do what he wanted, to pleasure him, was so much more powerful. She parted her lips and he slid into her mouth, hot and smooth. She moaned as she felt him against her tongue, clean and hard. Without prompting, she sucked him deep. After a few seconds, Scott gripped her hair and eased himself out of her mouth. “Steady on, darling,
don’t go too hard, too fast. I’m pleased with you, though. You do that so well.”
A warm glow of pleasure washed over her, followed by the prickle of embarrassment. Who was she to get so turned on by this degrading bullshit? For a moment she considered saying ‘windowsill,’ but the call of her body was too strong. Scott moved down her body again, sliding his tongue between her legs and lapping at her with delicate purpose that said he was trying to get her off. She cried out, needing the pleasure to crescendo, but just as she was close, he pulled away, wiping his mouth. “I think we’re almost ready to go for it, aren’t we?”
“Yes,” Sam said, because she knew ‘oh my god, please just do me already, Galahad’ would just result in more edging.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Scott said. He knelt beside her again, stroking a hand over her hair. “There’s just one thing I need to know first.”
Christ, what fresh hell was this? Unless he wanted her to know he was a spanking fanatic, she was going to chew through her restraints and launch herself at him. “What do you want to know?”
Scott leaned back so that she could see the whole of his face and he could see hers. “I climbed through your window to see you tonight. Our lives and our past is complicated. I want to make love to you, more than anything, but only if you say you trust me to have sex with you right now.”
Sam’s stomach plummeted. Not this again? She opened her mouth to say yes, she trusted him for fuck’s sake, but something turned her words into, “Are you sure you’re not a virgin, Galahad?”
Scott’s eyes were like black holes boring into hers. “I’m not joking, Samantha. I want you to say you trust me. I need to know you trust me before we do this.”
It was so easy. Three little words; ‘I trust you.’ She’d said sillier things than that. She’d told her high school boyfriend she loved him because she wanted to be mature enough for love. She’d told Nicole she wasn’t doing burlesque only for her to see an online flier a week later. She could trust Scott, he was funny and smart, he was nice. She liked him. She didn’t want this to be awkward. But when she opened her mouth, all that came out was, “I want you to fuck me.”
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