could span with a single hand. To his near undoing,
glistening, golden curls beckoned to him, framed by black lace
suspender pantyhose. Her bush held his attention to the point where
he barely noticed the four-inch steel-spiked heels gracing her
shapely feet.
He flexed his fingers. "I can't wait
to get my hands on you, you gorgeous thing."
She stopped and wagged a finger side
to side. "Uh-uh-uh. You're not to touch me. Remember?"
Reluctantly, he tore his gaze from her
and glanced at the ropes. He didn't thrill at the idea of her
subjecting him to bondage, but he wanted access to her stunning
body. She'd said he could move in the binding, and he intended to
take advantage to do what she said he couldn't—touch her. Once he
gave her the pleasure he suspected she secretly craved, she
wouldn't tell him to stop.
"You still want to do this?" she
asked.
"Absolutely." He gave her a once over,
soaking in her beauty and loving that she stared at his cock like
she wanted to suck it dry.
"Turn around," she
instructed.
Chip spun to face a tan pleated shade
over a window. What would she do first? Melony came beside him, her
velvety breasts brushing his arm when she reached for the russet
rope. Biting back a groan, he fought the urge to reach out and test
the firmness of those heavenly globes. He didn't dare, and scare
her. After all, she had freed him far before his prediction of
dinnertime, and he had no intention of going back into her torture
chamber.
She laid a pinkie on his collarbone
and traced it with a feather-light stroke that made his skin
tingle. Leaning close, she blew air along the same path, and the
tiny hairs along his neck and arms stood on end. Then she used the
frayed tip of the rope. The appearance of the cord told him it
would feel rough, but the fibers, smooth and soft, activated every
nerve ending.
With slow care, she repeated the
process along the other collarbone, around his shoulders, down his
spine, and across his chest, until he shook with need. Not touching
her proved one of his hardest tests of self-control. To keep from
making a mistake, he dug his fingers into his thighs and clenched
his jaw.
"How are you doing?" she asked, her
voice low and sultry.
"I like it so far," he said, his voice
cracking on the last word. Nice way to sound macho,
Chipper .
"I'm going to tie the first knot. Are
you ready?" Melony gave him a coy, flirty smile and ran the
tassel-like end over his abs in a figure eight.
"I'm ready if you are," he replied,
his voice more confident. Gripping his leg, he tried not to think
about sending a finger between her thighs. So close. So
tempting.
Placing her hand on his shoulder, she
lightly grazed fingernails down his arm and brought his wrist
between them. She snaked the line around it, then tied a looping
tongue knot. "Is that too tight?"
Twisting his hand, he frowned. "No, it
feels too loose."
She tried to wedge her thumb
underneath, but couldn't get it in past the cuticle of her
nail.
Impressed, he said, "You make the boy
scout in me proud."
She exhaled a single, quiet guffaw.
"You were a boy scout?"
"Mm-hmm." He used the moment to sneak
a feel of her. Running the back of his thumb down her cheek, he
said, "But I quit well before I made Eagle Scout."
She glanced at his extended arm, but
didn't pull away. Looking into his eyes, she teased,
"Quitter."
He trailed his finger from her jaw
down her neck, wishing he could do the same with his
lips.
"I may be top, but I get to say
'stop,' too." Her words sounded sure but her face told him she
loved the caress.
"Top?" he asked.
"I'm doing the tying. I'm the top,"
she said on a heavy exhale. "You're being tied, so you're the
bottom."
He continued down, traversing smooth
skin until he outlined the tops of her breasts. So firm, so silky
soft. "Melony, you're breathtaking."
"Stop," she whispered. She hitched a
breath and closed her eyes. She didn't sound like she really wanted
him to, but he let his hand fall to his side.
Keeping
glistening, golden curls beckoned to him, framed by black lace
suspender pantyhose. Her bush held his attention to the point where
he barely noticed the four-inch steel-spiked heels gracing her
shapely feet.
He flexed his fingers. "I can't wait
to get my hands on you, you gorgeous thing."
She stopped and wagged a finger side
to side. "Uh-uh-uh. You're not to touch me. Remember?"
Reluctantly, he tore his gaze from her
and glanced at the ropes. He didn't thrill at the idea of her
subjecting him to bondage, but he wanted access to her stunning
body. She'd said he could move in the binding, and he intended to
take advantage to do what she said he couldn't—touch her. Once he
gave her the pleasure he suspected she secretly craved, she
wouldn't tell him to stop.
"You still want to do this?" she
asked.
"Absolutely." He gave her a once over,
soaking in her beauty and loving that she stared at his cock like
she wanted to suck it dry.
"Turn around," she
instructed.
Chip spun to face a tan pleated shade
over a window. What would she do first? Melony came beside him, her
velvety breasts brushing his arm when she reached for the russet
rope. Biting back a groan, he fought the urge to reach out and test
the firmness of those heavenly globes. He didn't dare, and scare
her. After all, she had freed him far before his prediction of
dinnertime, and he had no intention of going back into her torture
chamber.
She laid a pinkie on his collarbone
and traced it with a feather-light stroke that made his skin
tingle. Leaning close, she blew air along the same path, and the
tiny hairs along his neck and arms stood on end. Then she used the
frayed tip of the rope. The appearance of the cord told him it
would feel rough, but the fibers, smooth and soft, activated every
nerve ending.
With slow care, she repeated the
process along the other collarbone, around his shoulders, down his
spine, and across his chest, until he shook with need. Not touching
her proved one of his hardest tests of self-control. To keep from
making a mistake, he dug his fingers into his thighs and clenched
his jaw.
"How are you doing?" she asked, her
voice low and sultry.
"I like it so far," he said, his voice
cracking on the last word. Nice way to sound macho,
Chipper .
"I'm going to tie the first knot. Are
you ready?" Melony gave him a coy, flirty smile and ran the
tassel-like end over his abs in a figure eight.
"I'm ready if you are," he replied,
his voice more confident. Gripping his leg, he tried not to think
about sending a finger between her thighs. So close. So
tempting.
Placing her hand on his shoulder, she
lightly grazed fingernails down his arm and brought his wrist
between them. She snaked the line around it, then tied a looping
tongue knot. "Is that too tight?"
Twisting his hand, he frowned. "No, it
feels too loose."
She tried to wedge her thumb
underneath, but couldn't get it in past the cuticle of her
nail.
Impressed, he said, "You make the boy
scout in me proud."
She exhaled a single, quiet guffaw.
"You were a boy scout?"
"Mm-hmm." He used the moment to sneak
a feel of her. Running the back of his thumb down her cheek, he
said, "But I quit well before I made Eagle Scout."
She glanced at his extended arm, but
didn't pull away. Looking into his eyes, she teased,
"Quitter."
He trailed his finger from her jaw
down her neck, wishing he could do the same with his
lips.
"I may be top, but I get to say
'stop,' too." Her words sounded sure but her face told him she
loved the caress.
"Top?" he asked.
"I'm doing the tying. I'm the top,"
she said on a heavy exhale. "You're being tied, so you're the
bottom."
He continued down, traversing smooth
skin until he outlined the tops of her breasts. So firm, so silky
soft. "Melony, you're breathtaking."
"Stop," she whispered. She hitched a
breath and closed her eyes. She didn't sound like she really wanted
him to, but he let his hand fall to his side.
Keeping
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