Hundreds

by Pepper Winters

  Pim

  I TRADED CORRIDOR for hotel room.

  What the hell am I doing?

  I padded behind a man I thought was invincible but had revealed his mortal flaw.

  What the hell am I thinking?

  I followed him as he moved toward the bed, and, without a word, pulled his t-shirt over his head. Unbuckling his jeans and stepping out of the denim and boxer-briefs, he was just as regal, just as proud, just as majestic as he had been that night he’d jumped overboard for a midnight swim.

  I shouldn’t do this.

  Naked, Elder pulled the covers back and bunched them at the bottom of the bed. Sitting on the mattress, he swung his long legs to horizontal, and with a pained look, lay down.

  I should leave.

  With a clenched jaw, he held up a black rope, shiny with quality and soft as silk. He didn’t give me commandments on what he wanted me to do. He merely draped it over his inked belly, arched his arms above his head, and clasped his fingers around the spindles of the French baroque four-poster bed.

  Don’t you dare, Pim.

  I ignored my jumpy terror and rapid winged heartbeat. My body had become a fortress—expecting the worst kind of things the moment Elder had revealed the bondage, erecting turrets and gun posts. I was ready to run and fight and maim.

  But that was before he turned everything I knew into an opposite.

  He would be bound.

  Not me.

  He would be at mercy.

  Not me.

  What does that mean?

  I couldn’t understand.

  I’d always been the one taken from. I had no concept of how sex would work with the male granting all control.

  The word submissive popped into my head, just like it had when he’d allowed me to kiss him on the Phantom.

  I drank Elder in.

  Once again, it was the wrong word.

  Elder might order me to tie him up, but he was not submissive. Never.

  The tameless glare in his eyes was that of a predator behind bars: contained for now but just waiting for the right moment to strike. His body didn’t lie sedately; it hummed with twisted energy, crackling with desires he refused to bow to.

  Elder was not submissive.

  He was the most dominant man I’d ever met, and the fact he’d ask me to trap him in rope hinted he was afraid—not of me but himself.

  This wasn’t a game.

  This wasn’t just sex.

  This was his life. His sanity in the gift of pleasure.

  My entire body quaked as the fortress I stood in threatened to shatter into rubble or fortify its walls, depending on my acceptance.

  Can I do this?

  Will I do this?

  His stomach rose and fell as I approached the bed.

  Turn around.

  My hand shook as I reached for his sublime nakedness and focused, not on the hardening erection between his thighs or the whorls of black hair travelling to his naval, but on the equally black rope coiled like a cobra on his belly.

  Don’t do this.

  He shivered as I pinched the end and teased the rope from him. The threads were cool and surprisingly erotic—nothing like the coarse twine Alrik had used or the brutal chains he’d favoured.

  Chains.

  There were chains.

  Looking around the room, I noticed the pile of glinting links on the coffee table, half strewn onto the floor. I knew without a doubt if I did this—if I stood any chance of doing this—chains could not be a part of it.

  Looping the rope through my fingers, I bowed my head. “Just this. Nothing else.”

  Elder flinched at my voice but slowly nodded. “Tie it tight, and there won’t be a need for anything else.”

  I shivered, balancing on needles of worry. How had tonight changed from Elder holding me. Elder kissing me. Elder making love to me. To Elder leaving me all alone with my memories.

  He wouldn’t hold me. He wouldn’t kiss me. He wouldn’t make love to me.

  I would be on my own.

  Will my mind stay with him or flee?

  How did I think I’d have the confidence to use him like Alrik used me? How would I have sex with someone rather than them having sex with me?

  It was too strange, too foreign, not right…

  Elder sighed heavily, his gaze locking on the ceiling. He didn’t direct or condemn me for my hesitation, or question the decision I still fought to come to.

  This isn’t me…

  With trembling hands, I reached forward and looped the black rope around his right wrist.

  But maybe that’s a good thing…

  He froze. He stopped breathing.

  He doesn’t want this…

  My knees locked as Elder’s eyes met mine. “Do it.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think I can.”

  “Then you can’t, and this is over.”

  The pain at not having him—not feeling the wondrous fullness of him again—gave me a shot of confidence. With my teeth clamped together, I threaded the rope through the bedhead and tied it tight.

  I knew knots.

  I knew because they’d been used on me.

  Elder gave me an agonised smile followed by a nod of sick approval. “And the other.”

  This is insane.

  Don’t you think you’re screwed up enough without doing this?

  I listened to the rattle in my chest as I breathed far too heavy and hard, drenching my blood in oxygen, making the room spin.

  But I didn’t back away. I didn’t free him. I obeyed and wrapped the rest of the rope around his left wrist and imprisoned him to the bed and submission.

  Submission.

  That awfully misleading word again.

  Elder had given himself entirely to me to do whatever I wanted. He visibly shook with how much this cost him.

  He was in my every thought, every breath, every action.

  He controlled me more than anyone ever had.

  He dominated, ruled, and mastered me.

  I’m not alone.

  As I moved away from the bed, my eyes fell to the proud erection, stiff and shiny on his muscular belly.

  His eyes met mine, darker than a black canyon and just as vast. Every inch of me tingled and sparkled and not necessarily in good ways.

  When I didn’t move, he licked his lips. “Let me see you.”

  His voice touched me rather than his hands. His voice would be my anchor tonight.

  Trust it…trust him…trust yourself.

  My hands crept up to the straps of my dress then paused.

  If I did this…there was no going back.

  Elder tested my knots, his hands jerking hard. The rope didn’t give; he remained tethered. With dangerous eyes, he looked me up and down. “Just because I’m not able to touch you doesn’t mean you can take all night, Pimlico.” His cock jerked on his belly. “Strip for me. Now.”

  My fingers hooked into the straps before my brain could interfere. I slipped the dress down my arms, letting it puddle around my ankles, revealing I had no underwear on underneath.

  Shyness heated me, but the brimstone on Elder’s face reminded me how much he’d burned for me last night. How, no matter my insecurities, he wanted me. He wanted me to touch him, fuck him. He wanted it so much, but he couldn’t do it himself.

  I grew wet looking at him, knowing if I wanted him inside me, it would be me who had to do it. I’d have to take him. There would be no denying that I chose to have sex, not gave it.

  I hated the responsibility that layered me with. I’d hoped I could lay back and let him work his magic like last night. That I’d succumb and swim in sensations he caused rather than be the one composing whatever strange song we’d sing.

  “Get on the bed, Pim.”

  I leapt at his instruction, grateful for it, hungry for it. I hoped he could see this would be a lot easier for me if he gave me his voice to hold.

  His lips tilted into a half smirk as I obeyed, sitting on my knees on th
e mattress like any obedient pet. My naked thigh touching his. My skin heating because of his.

  His throat worked as he swallowed; his voice roguish and full of challenge. “I’m not going to direct you through every part of this. You have to be the one in control. Otherwise, it negates what I’m trying to do.”

  “What are you trying to do?”

  “Save us from a lifetime of misery.”

  My heart lurched at the thought of a lifetime with Elder. Not of misery but happiness. Hadn’t we had enough misery in our lives?

  But how could we have a lifetime together if he kept his promise that tonight would be our last? How could I spend two years with a man who’d abused me and made me wish for death, only to find another man who made me beg for pleasure then denied me?

  What sort of cruel joke was the world playing?

  “Stop thinking.” Elder shifted on the bed, his cock bouncing as he rearranged. “I didn’t make you undress. I didn’t force you to bind me. Yet you did both those things. Turn off your mind, little mouse, and give in…because you already have.”

  I couldn’t look away. I had to keep staring. His lips. His jaw. His chest.

  He breathed faster as my gaze drifted down his front and locked onto his thick cock.

  “Touch it.”

  My head shot up. “But I thought you said you wouldn’t guide me—”

  “Fucking forget what I said. When you stare at it that way, you make me goddamn insane.” He tested the ropes again, yanking on the spindles. “Do it.” He arched his back, his neck straining against the pillows. “Please, fucking touch it.” It wasn’t a beg but a growled bark.

  My hand shot forward.

  I touched it.

  He groaned long and low as I cupped his overheated flesh. How odd to think this was the first time I’d been allowed to just hold rather than suck or present myself for their choosing.

  I’d never studied the veins and complexities. Never run my thumb over the crown and noted the texture of smooth skin to utmost velvet.

  Elder’s thighs turned to rock as my fingers captured him, stroking, squeezing, learning. He bit his lip, his nostrils wide and eyes clamped shut.

  I hated that I caused him discomfort all while unwilling to let him go. I might not be good at preliminary touching, but I was a master at oral.

  Straddling him, I forced myself to be brave and pulled my hair to one side. Draping it over his hip, I lowered my mouth over him.

  The second my lips touched his tip, he bucked. “Holy fuck.”

  The echoing shock and throbbing need in his tone infected me, granting me the courage to keep going. I’d tasted him once before, but he’d stopped me. He’d called me a whore.

  My back prickled with bad memories.

  He might’ve stopped me previously, but he couldn’t stop me now.

  I sank down his length, swallowing him deep.

  The bed shook as he fought the knots I’d wrapped him in. “Pim…stop. This isn’t for—” He strangled on the last word as I sucked him hard, corkscrewing my hand down his length.

  Something happened.

  The usual disgust and shame I suffered when performing such a sex act were eerily vacant. Instead of my heart shutting down and my mind turning numb, I found heat bubbling in my blood. My hips widened over his legs to sink deeper. My jaw loosened over his cock to suck harder.

  To Elder, it might seem as though I gave him a gift.

  To me…I wholeheartedly claimed him.

  I took his breathlessness, his straining. I stole his twitches and grunts. I relished in the power cloaking me.

  This wasn’t for him.

  This was for me.

  And I had no intention of stopping.

  My tongue swirled, mouth watered; Elder grew impossibly harder between my lips. My fingers drifted lower to the twin balls drawn tight and hot.

  “Jesus Christ, Pimlico.” His eyes shot wide, drenching me in pure, potent lust. The muscles in his stomach stood out in stark relief. His dragon almost distorted with how he braced himself.

  Another lick. A deeper suck.

  And his voice rained again, this time thick and lost to me. “Stop. Unless you want me to come. I’m seconds from—” He groaned as I unsheathed my teeth and bit him gently.

  The tell-tale ripples of a release flickered beneath my fingers. For a moment, I wanted to finish him. To take that for me. But another part—a small sadistic part—wanted him to linger in lustful agony.

  Pulling back, I wiped my lips, staring up his wicked torso to tortured eyes.

  He sucked in greedy breaths, clamping down on the climax I’d left him to fight. When he could finally talk, he growled, “That was cruel.”

  A triumphant smile spread my lips.

  I never expected to feel proud or in charge from licking something I used to hate. Wonders had never ceased.

  “You took that from me, little mouse.” His mouth spread into his own smile; only his was calculating and dark. “Time to return the favour.”

  I frowned.

  What? How?

  “Sit on my face.”

  I reared back. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.” He pushed down the bed a little; his arms strained straight. “Come here.”

  “I-I don’t understand.”

  His eyes blazed. “What don’t you understand?”

  “I’m naked. If I sit on your—”

  “I’ll be able to do for you what you just did for me.”

  “No way.” I scrambled off him. “I’ve never….No one has—” I shook my head. “No, I’m not comfortable—”

  “Doesn’t matter if you’re not comfortable.” He chuckled, slipping more into his role as guardian as well as tormentor. “I told you I want to give you many firsts. Well, tonight I’ll have to give you as many as I can—starting with you sitting on my face.”

  My tummy somersaulted. “I won’t.”

  “You will.” His eyebrows jerked into a sullen scowl. “I want to taste you. Get over here.”

  The very idea of doing something so vulgar upset every value I had left, but beneath that horror was the small question of what a tongue would feel like down there. What Elder’s tongue would feel like.

  Seconds ticked past as quickly as my heart.

  “I won’t ask again.” Elder rattled the bedhead with his rope-tied wrists. “Come here.”

  The only thing that made it remotely possible for me to put aside my embarrassment and behave was Elder’s command. I held onto his voice as I moved on all fours up, up, up the bed.

  I gulped as I looked down on him. “Are you sure?”

  “More sure than anything. I’ve been dying to do this since the day I saw you.”

  When I didn’t move, he ordered, “Straddle me—just like you were doing before.”

  A pounding began in my head, but I managed to lean forward and grip the bedhead. With jerky motions, I opened my legs and gradually straddled his neck.

  His gaze locked on my pussy, bare and spread for him.

  I couldn’t look.

  Closing my eyes, I clung to the bed full of wrongness.

  “Come closer.” His breath tickled the inside of my thighs.

  I was close enough, thank you very much. Any closer and—

  “I want to lick you, little mouse. My tongue wants to bury itself deep inside you. Don’t deny me that.”

  Oh, God.

  Forcing myself to do what he commanded, I shuffled forward until his breath skated from inner thigh to core.

  I flinched as he pressed a delicate kiss on my leg. “Now lower until you feel me.”

  I hated this. Positively hated this.

  My legs bunched as I descended. This was dirty and stupid and—

  Holy shit…

  My head lolled forward the second the wildest sensation touched me. Hot and wet and dexterous.

  Beneath me, Elder groaned as I cried out.

  Nev
er in my life had something been so insanely incredibly wanted. So quick to change my opinion. So fast to admit that I didn’t hate this. Not at all. I loved this. I wanted this.

  More.

  More.

  More.

  I’d been missing out.

  What was this wizardry?

  Elder’s tongue was more skilful than any finger, more hypnotising than any kiss. It dipped inside me, swirled around me, worshiped me, corrupted me, claimed me in every dimension.

  I became nothing more than two hands holding the bed and whatever Elder wanted me to be. My hips began moving in time with his thrusting tongue. My mewls and pants falling whenever he speared up and filled me then pulled out and bit me.

  I was glad he was my first.

  No one else could do this better.

  I’d already told him I loved him for everything that he’d done. I hadn’t told him I loved him for him—for pushing my boundaries and showing me heaven lived behind the doors I was too afraid to open.

  With him between my legs, I fell in a different kind of way. I tumbled from safety and let his tongue direct on when I landed. I fell in a romantic way. A heart way. A way that made me swell and burn and cry out from the beauty of it.

  “Fuck, you taste good,” he purred, seeming as high on me as I was on him.

  I glanced down.

  My breath caught. There were no words to describe how handsome he was. How royal. How kingly. He smouldered with a heavy-lidded gaze as his tongue licked his lips. Boldly lapping up every drop of me, he looked as if he wanted to eat me alive.

  My thighs quivered as he arched up and continued to pleasure me.

  My back bowed as I gave in to him entirely. Falling under the hypnosis of his tongue and the familiar but still unfamiliar pulling as my body gathered and spiralled. My heart turned faulty, skipping and begging for more.

  I knew that feeling.

  I knew where it would lead if I kept following up and up, riding Elder’s tongue until I reached the highest point.

  I wanted to follow it.

  But just like I’d left him on the knife edge of an orgasm, it wasn’t fair of me to finish alone.

  Reluctantly, I sat up on my knees, pulling my throbbing flesh from Elder’s incredible mouth.

  He lay dazed and drunk, lips glistening, his chin wet from my desire. His voice scratched my oversensitive skin with sensual gravel. “Come back here. I haven’t finished.”