strong, demanding man could also make her feel precious was a revelation. Because of the restraint, she couldn’t duck and hide, or try to reciprocate the pleasure to alleviate the poignancy of the moment. All she could do was lie there and submit to the experience of being prized.
He ran his tongue along the top, inner portion of her thigh, that strip of skin directly next to her sex. She knew she was probably wet there from her arousal. He gathered her juices with his tongue.
He looked up when she turned her head on the pillow and whimpered.
“Is it too much?” he asked her, his deep voice seeming to caress her prickly, sensitive skin.
“Yes. No. I don’t know,” she whispered miserably. How could she speak aloud what she was feeling in that moment, put words to the heavy, sweet ache in her chest?
He reclined on the bed again on his side, his groin pressing against her naked hip. She shut her eyes at the exciting sensation. He came up on one elbow, his face hovering over her, and cupped her jaw.
“Then we’ll use the vibrator again if it feels too intimate. But I’ll warn you, I’m not going to wait much longer before I taste you.”
She opened her lips to tell him
no
, that wasn’t what she’d been thinking. It’d been the intimacy of the unfolded moment that had crowded her consciousness, not anxiety about the shocking closeness of oral sex. But then he was kissing her, more gently this time, but forceful and demanding nevertheless. He pushed the tip of the vibrator again, sliding between her labia. The friction built so quickly. She didn’t want the mechanical caress, though. It was his touch she wanted. His fingers. His lips. His tongue. But the vibrator was nothing if not precise, and his kiss drugged her. Soon, she felt herself rising to the crest again.
He broke their increasingly wild kiss and studied her face with a narrowed stare. His gaze transferred to her flushed breasts and tight nipples.
“I can’t take it anymore. I want to be inside you when you come this time.”
“Yes,” she muttered, spinning from arousal.
He flipped onto his back and fleetly unfastened his shorts. Before he lowered them, he removed a condom from the back pocket. She lifted her head off the pillow, watching him as he jerked both the shorts and a pair of snug boxer briefs over his straining cock. His heavy erection sprung free and thumped onto his belly. Was it the restraint that redoubled her craving for him, the knowledge that she couldn’t just reach out and touch that straight, thick shaft or that plump, defined cockhead anytime she chose? It drove her crazy.
A moment of disappointment went through her when he knelt between her spread thighs a moment later and rolled on the condom. She wanted him in her naked. She wanted to see her own juices slicking the shaft and gathering beneath the thick rim of that cockhead. God, he really had transformed her into a needy slut, to be thinking such things.
She held her breath as he edged closer between her suspended, restrained thighs, his sheathed cock protruding from his body. He planted one hand in the mattress next to her waist. With the hand that was bound to the primary restraint above her waist, she reached with her fingers, touching his wrist, caressing his skin. It was the tiniest of caresses, but electricity tingled through her at the contact. His gaze shot up to meet hers. Had he felt it, too?
She felt something hard and firm next to her sex. He rubbed the head of his cock between her labia.
“Oh,” she mumbled shakily. He glided smoothly against her lubricated flesh, but the pressure was firm. It made her burn. She heard it: the wet, sucking sound of his hard cock moving in her soft, wet flesh. She grabbed at his wrist, her eyes fluttering closed as pleasure swamped her.
“Jacob,” she moaned.
“Was it the first time you masturbated, thinking of us? This evening?”
She opened her eyes, bringing him into focus with effort. The vision of him
He ran his tongue along the top, inner portion of her thigh, that strip of skin directly next to her sex. She knew she was probably wet there from her arousal. He gathered her juices with his tongue.
He looked up when she turned her head on the pillow and whimpered.
“Is it too much?” he asked her, his deep voice seeming to caress her prickly, sensitive skin.
“Yes. No. I don’t know,” she whispered miserably. How could she speak aloud what she was feeling in that moment, put words to the heavy, sweet ache in her chest?
He reclined on the bed again on his side, his groin pressing against her naked hip. She shut her eyes at the exciting sensation. He came up on one elbow, his face hovering over her, and cupped her jaw.
“Then we’ll use the vibrator again if it feels too intimate. But I’ll warn you, I’m not going to wait much longer before I taste you.”
She opened her lips to tell him
no
, that wasn’t what she’d been thinking. It’d been the intimacy of the unfolded moment that had crowded her consciousness, not anxiety about the shocking closeness of oral sex. But then he was kissing her, more gently this time, but forceful and demanding nevertheless. He pushed the tip of the vibrator again, sliding between her labia. The friction built so quickly. She didn’t want the mechanical caress, though. It was his touch she wanted. His fingers. His lips. His tongue. But the vibrator was nothing if not precise, and his kiss drugged her. Soon, she felt herself rising to the crest again.
He broke their increasingly wild kiss and studied her face with a narrowed stare. His gaze transferred to her flushed breasts and tight nipples.
“I can’t take it anymore. I want to be inside you when you come this time.”
“Yes,” she muttered, spinning from arousal.
He flipped onto his back and fleetly unfastened his shorts. Before he lowered them, he removed a condom from the back pocket. She lifted her head off the pillow, watching him as he jerked both the shorts and a pair of snug boxer briefs over his straining cock. His heavy erection sprung free and thumped onto his belly. Was it the restraint that redoubled her craving for him, the knowledge that she couldn’t just reach out and touch that straight, thick shaft or that plump, defined cockhead anytime she chose? It drove her crazy.
A moment of disappointment went through her when he knelt between her spread thighs a moment later and rolled on the condom. She wanted him in her naked. She wanted to see her own juices slicking the shaft and gathering beneath the thick rim of that cockhead. God, he really had transformed her into a needy slut, to be thinking such things.
She held her breath as he edged closer between her suspended, restrained thighs, his sheathed cock protruding from his body. He planted one hand in the mattress next to her waist. With the hand that was bound to the primary restraint above her waist, she reached with her fingers, touching his wrist, caressing his skin. It was the tiniest of caresses, but electricity tingled through her at the contact. His gaze shot up to meet hers. Had he felt it, too?
She felt something hard and firm next to her sex. He rubbed the head of his cock between her labia.
“Oh,” she mumbled shakily. He glided smoothly against her lubricated flesh, but the pressure was firm. It made her burn. She heard it: the wet, sucking sound of his hard cock moving in her soft, wet flesh. She grabbed at his wrist, her eyes fluttering closed as pleasure swamped her.
“Jacob,” she moaned.
“Was it the first time you masturbated, thinking of us? This evening?”
She opened her eyes, bringing him into focus with effort. The vision of him
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