by Gina Kincade
His skin is against mine. His spicy-clean masculine scent more noticeable now that he’s shirtless. These things are driving me insane. I didn’t know lust could feel like this. I’m barely in control. I’m just raw urges that make me hum and moan and clutch at Ian like I might never let him go.
But I want more. I want him to feel like I do this very second.
“Ian,” I whisper. “Can you find the rope now?”
He sets me back on the floor carefully, his breath coming in fast. He lifts his head, looking down at me.
“Yeah.”
But he doesn’t move. For a second I’m worried he might back out, that he doesn’t want to be tied up, that he doesn’t want me to take control. Then he gives me a lopsided smile, kisses my lips quickly, then rummages around in a kitchen drawer.
“I think I have some twine in here.” He holds up a spool full of thin brown rope that I’m pretty sure he can break through. But it will have to do. I might spring for handcuffs later.
When he hands me the twine, I notice his hands are shaking. His pupils are so dilated his eyes look glossy and black. He’s looking at me with that predatory gaze that I’m growing accustomed to, like he wants me, he wants me so much. And only me. He’s utterly intoxicating.
“Let’s get you out of your jeans.”
“Oh yeah.” He smiles wider.
He begins to pull the button through the hole, but I stay his hands with one of mine.
“Let me.” I place the twine on the table and finish unbuttoning him. My wrist bumps against his erection. Only part of his erection. God, the man is huge. I can see that his head is all the way over to his hip. He’s just so fucking big.
As much as I worry about his size, something inside me sizzles. I loved watching him this morning. I loved it when he closed his eyes and I imagined touching him the way he was. I loved watching him become unhinged, and I want to do that to him. I want to make him come.
I unzip him and carefully push both his boxer briefs and jeans over his erection.
“My boots. Forgot about my boots.” His voice is seriously strained. God, I love it.
I take a step back and he hops on one foot on the kitchen linoleum to unlace and kick off a boot, then the other, and slides out of his jeans and underwear too.
“Let me look at you, please.” And let me touch you and kiss you. But I don’t ask that last part. I don’t know why. Probably because it’s hard to put words in my mouth.
He’s so big. So powerfully built. So gorgeous. I splay my hands across his chest, feeling the subtle imprint of his dragon tattoo and another that reads simply, “Strength and Honor.” Yes, he’s strong. And honorable. He’s letting me touch him, look at him. Only a few flickers of his muscles twitching as I slide a finger along his sternum. He’s letting me do this. Other men wouldn’t. They’d take control. I know.
I haven’t dated a lot, but every time it would come to the physical aspect of a relationship, I felt overwhelmed and overpowered. Not a good combo considering my background. I just couldn’t handle feeling like that. One guy said I had to learn how to let go of control. Would he say that if I forced him to “let go”? Doubt it.
But not Ian. He’s so much bigger than any other man I’ve known. So much more intimidating. So much more seriousness in his brown gaze. But he’s the one who will let me do this. He’s the one.
God, I didn’t just think that. I need to be more careful. Safeguard my heart.
Just focus on touching him. Everywhere. I run my hands along his tight, bunching shoulders, down his sculpted arms, interlacing my fingers between his. I step closer and look up at him, his erection touching my belly.
“I want to do amazing things to your body.”
He loosens a big breath, his huge chest moving.
“I want you to feel so much pleasure.”
He nods. I think words might be hard to come by for him too.
“You’re going to have to tell me what you like and don’t like.”
He nods again.
I run my hands down his stomach, amazed at the ridges of his rectus abdominis. Eight bumps that make those gorgeous bricks of his abs. One of my fingers lingers on the soft dark hair under his bellybutton. Slowly, I lower my fingertip, while he closes his eyes. When I touch the very base of him, he growls. My nipples contract. Hard. I wrap my fingers around him and he widens his stance, his hands making fists.
“You’re going to have to tell me what to do too, I’m afraid, since I’ve never done this before.”
His lids open, looking down at me, nodding.
I slide my hand up his Bone Ranger, but thinking of that silly, very male name for his penis makes me laugh.
He captures my hand, holding me still. “Giggling when you have a man’s dick in your hand isn’t good for his ego.”
“Oh god. I’m sorry.” I look down at him and realize he’s not quite as hard. He’s right. It’s really not good for his ego. “I was thinking about your name for…him, Bone Ranger. That’s what I was laughing at. You can’t possibly think I’d laugh at you.”
“I’m naked, trying like fuck not to grab you, feeling…fucking vulnerable and you laughed.”
I step a little closer. “Ian, you’re so huge. I promise I wasn’t laughing at you, just that name.”
“Maybe you’re laughing because I am huge. I don’t know. And, yes, I do know now why you were laughing, but at the time—”
“I’m so sorry.” I step even closer, letting his erection touch the skin of my belly. “I can make it up to you.”
He smiles, his erection in my palm getting harder. “Tell me what you want to do to me.”
“I want to touch every inch of you, especially your…Bone—”
“Don’t call it that, baby.”
“What do you want me to call it then?”
“It’s my cock. You’re holding my cock.”
I step even closer, gripping him a little tighter and sliding down his shaft. “I want to stroke your cock.”
He’s getting even harder, groaning too. “Yeah, baby.”
“I want to lick it.”
“Fuck, yeah.”
“I want to put it in my mouth.”
He lets go of my hand, kissing the top of my head. “You want to tie me up still?”
What’s odd, I realize, is how he stopped me, how he put his hands on me, and I was okay with it. Could I have his hands loose while I perform oral sex? A trickle of fear tingles at the base of my skull.
“Yes, I want you tied up.”
He smiles again while he steps away, pushing his wrists together in front of him.
“I liked the idea of tying you to a chair.”
He swallows. I can actually hear him. But he nods and moves one of the kitchen chairs so nothing is in its way and sits on it, stretching his arms behind him.
God, the man is good to me, letting me do this.
He is, however, getting a blow job out the deal, so I shouldn’t get too far ahead of myself, thinking him some angel.
I tie him to a spoke within the back of the chair and gauge my handiwork. Thanks to Hon, I know a few knots, but I’m pretty sure even with the rolling hitch I just tied, Ian can break himself free. He could probably pull the spoke from the chair for that matter.
But he’s not. His head is turned so he can see me.
I glance down his big back. His spine is so fluid and beautiful. I’ve often thought the curvature of a backbone is one of the most exquisite things on earth. Ryder is thin enough to see a few of his vertebrae poking through, becoming visible under his skin at his neck, but most of his back is consumed with flaring muscles. Down at his bum, he has the cutest indentions. And then there is his ass, all hard edges.
I walk around him, noticing his splayed knees. The way men sit always fascinates me, their knees are wide, their stance so male. Ian is so male. He’s so hard that his…cock is standing taller and taller.
“Can you take off your jeans, baby?”
I nod
and try to do as he asks in a sexy way. When my pants are kicked off, I kneel before him.
“You want to give me tips?”
He swallows, the bobbing of his laryngeal prominence, his Adam’s apple, distracting me. This is also very male. Everything about Ian that would usually make me at least apprehensive in another man is just…I don’t feel any apprehension right now. No fear. No worry. Nothing. I don’t even feel embarrassed that I have to ask how to perform oral sex. He doesn’t make me feel…inexperienced, even though I am. He makes me feel like he’s enjoying everything. That I can do no wrong, even if I have no clue what I’m doing. It’s like he’s on this adventure with me, not on the sidelines because he’s more experienced than I am. He’s with me.
God, I love this.
He tries to talk, but his voice is a growl mixed with strained, garbled sounds. He clears his throat. “You can start with your hands.”
I grab his cock, making him hiss but smile.
“I like how you’re not scared you’re going to hurt me.”
I ease up the tension of my grip, but, oh, I love touching the hardness of him, yet his skin is so smooth, like velvet. “Sorry. Too rough?”
“No, baby. I was being serious. I’m not—that part of me isn’t going to break off. I like it rough. At first.”
I nod and glance down, beginning to stroke up his member. My other hand is on his leg and he moves it, widening his stance even more, moaning.
“This is good?”
“Fucking great.”
I remember something he’d done this morning and rub around the head of his penis. He throws his head back.
“You like that?”
He nods, but his head is still angled back. He’s making these wonderful male noises that let me know I’m doing pretty good for my first time.
I slide my hand up his thigh. “What do I do with your testicles? Anything?”
“You can—” he moans, “—you can—can—fuck—you can cup them, caress them, maybe pull a little.”
I try cupping them. They’re a little squashed on the chair, and I free them. Ian makes a really happy noise about that. Then I have his balls in my hand, squeezing them, looking up as I caress. His head is still tilted back, as if he’s praying. I can’t tell if what I’m doing is working for him, so I ask.
“This is good?”
“Baby, it’s all so good.” He finally looks down and smiles. “So fucking good.”
I keep stroking him, sometimes circling around his head. But then I find that I’m too curious. I stop and place both my hands on his thighs. His cock is wavering, twitching. I lean forward and decide to lick the very center of him, right over his slit.
His moan is louder than usual.
“Does that feel good?”
“So good.”
I do it again, lick him. Then I have to hold him still by wrapping my fingers around the base of his cock and lick him all the way around his head. He tastes salty and slightly tangy, but not bad. In fact, the way he tastes…it does something to me. My breasts feel even fuller, even more desire pouring into my sex, right to my clit.
“Ian, this is good.”
He moans. “Yes, it is.”
“I mean, it feels good for me too.”
He glances down, smiling yet again. “I’m glad, because it feels fucking fantastic for me.”
And then, with him watching me, I have more courage than I’ve ever had and open my mouth to put the very tip of him in. He’s making a gasping sound and I stop and look up.
“You okay?”
“Just surprised me. It was a great surprise, by the way.”
I smile. “Did you like it?”
“I fucking loved it.”
Again, I make sure he’s watching and pop him in my mouth. His hips rock forward, but he stops himself. He’s trying so hard to give me all the control. And I reward him by sucking in more.
I’m not completely daft about sex. Not only am I a doctor but I’ve also read a lot and watched my fair share of free porn gifs. And on occasion, I’ve read a few articles that explain in detail what to do. I suck hard as I slide down his shaft, but I can take him only so far before my gag reflex kicks in, which is kind of embarrassing. I’ve read how a person can, with time and patience, stop that certain reflex and do deep-throat oral sex.
I pull him out of me and look up. “Would you like me to learn how to do deep throat? I can’t right now. I doubt I could any time soon, but is that something that would interest you?”
He’s panting. “Yeah, I think I would like that.” His voice is the most strained I’ve ever heard it, and there are veins standing at attention all over his body. His muscles seem even larger too.
I nod. “I think I would too.”
“Great,” he grunts.
I smile, loving his expression, his cock in my hands, his dark male scent, this whole first experience. But because I’m me and this is a first experience, I have to ask again, “Am I still doing okay?”
“So fucking good.”
“Do you think I could make you come?”
“Fuck, yes.” He licks his lips. “But, ah, can you do something for me?”
I nod. “Tell me what you want me to do. Faster? Slower?”
“You’re perfect, baby. But can you…touch yourself while you’re—while I’m inside your mouth?”
“You’d like that?”
“I’d love it.”
I lift to my knees and shimmy free from my panties. Simultaneously, I reach for his cock and then stroke my clit.
“I’m wet.”
He really smiles at that. “Good.”
I hadn’t noticed how turned on I was until I’m circling around the little tight nub. I moan and feel clumsy while I try to stroke Ian again. My own desire fuels what I’m doing to him. I suck and stroke at a faster pace. I kiss and caress even faster, knowing I’m climbing higher and higher, my own orgasm just on the horizon.
I’m sucking him so much my jaw hurts, but I don’t want to stop. Circling around my clit, I keep going, getting more and more turned on as I keep bobbing up and down on his lap. He’s making these wonderful male noises, sounding more and more tense, needing more of me.
I need more, I realize. I think I could orgasm this way, but I don’t want to. I want to kiss him and be close as I come, and I want to feel him come against me.
The sounds coming from deep in his chest are the same kinds of noises he made moments before he orgasmed this morning.
“Are you close?” I huff for air, still circling around my clit.
“Yes, baby. So close.”
I stand and straddle him.
“What are you—”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I just need to touch you like this.” When I sit on him, I slide my clit against his rock-hard length. We both moan.
I rock and grind against him. It takes a little bit to realize the best position is for his cock to lay as flat as it can under my pussy, while I keep touching my clit.
“You’re so wet,” he whispers and kisses my cheek and neck.
“Is this good for you?”
“Perfect. You?”
“You’re going to make me come, Ian. Your huge cock against me is going to make me come.”
“Yes, baby. Yes.”
“Are you going to come with me?”
He nods. “Yeah.”
We kiss and kiss and kiss as I grind and move until my orgasm washes over me. With him against me, I actually feel myself coming, my labia clenching onto part of his erection.
“Yes, baby. Oh.” Ian’s kisses are getting clumsy and he starts to rock his hips, meeting mine thrust for thrust. Somehow, I’m moved a little, and I feel the head of him catch on my opening. It doesn’t hurt. Nothing hurts, but he’s maybe just a tiny bit inside me.
“Baby, move me. I can’t wait any more. I’m going to blow. I gotta—move me.”
I lift and he’s moaning and coming. I watch him as he rocks his hips and comes on my ass
and the chair. Something snaps and his arms are around me, holding me close, kissing me across my face.
His breathing is as frantic as mine. “Sorry. I just—I had to kiss you.”
I kiss him in return. “It’s okay. I like this. I love being held by you.”
Our breath is slowing.
I swallow. “I think you were a little inside me.”
He shakes his head. “Not quite, but it was a bad angle. We should get smarter about this, make sure we have condoms close by.”
“I’m on the pill. To regulate my periods.”
His breathing isn’t slowing now. “So—so I don’t have to wear a condom? When we—when—”
I shrug. “I’m thinking…we don’t have to. I mean, I’m clean.”
“I’m clean too. Been tested. Recently too.” He sighs and puts his forehead against mine. “Jesus, just talking about it is making me hard again.”
I smile. “I can feel that.”
“Asha?”
“Yes?”
“I might clean up the chair and put it on a shelf or something. I fucking love it now.”
I smile. “I do too.”
I can’t help but think about the possibility that I kind of had sex for the first time on it. Yes, I fucking love the chair as well. Megan would be so proud of me.
That was amazing. But he said he wasn’t quite inside me. So, yeah, it wasn’t quite sex but wonderfully close. It got that close because of me and my impulse to sit on him. I was just riding my instincts. And it makes me wonder if I’m maybe not quite so fucked up as I once thought.
Ryder
Only three more days that Asha and I can spend every waking moment together. And our sleeping ones too. Afterwards, we won’t get to see each other this regularly for weeks, we discovered when checking our schedules. And for her, she’s probably thinking only three more days to work up her nerve to have sex. While I’m thinking of three more days to make her fall in love with me.
We’ll be working together after these three days. But I don’t know what that means. What if I can’t win her over? What if she rejects me and this notion that she’s mine?