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“I need one. I’ve never done this, and I’d feel better if you picked one. So, for me, pick a word.”
His eyes track my movements as I toss everything but the black nylon rope on the bed behind me. When his stare moves back to my face, I notice the faraway look on his face. “Red.”
I nod, and just like that, I watch him pull himself back to the present. “You say red, and I stop. Okay?”
His flirtatious smirk takes over his face again. “I won’t, but okay.”
I smile and roll my eyes despite myself. “Lose the jeans, Mac.”
I watch with rapt attention as Mac makes a spectacle of slowly unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down his muscular legs. All three of them have bodies that look like they were crafted by the gods. But even though Ronan and Finn are slightly taller and more broad than Mac, it doesn’t mean he is lacking in comparison. In fact, I’d argue that his leaner form enhances his perfectly chiseled muscles. It’s clear, just by looking at him, which I can’t seem to look away if my life depended on it, that Mac’s body was crafted for a specific set of skills. Underneath his intricate tattoos are corded arms used to inflict damage upon those that cross them, built legs used to carry the weight of his responsibilities, a narrow waist, perfect for me to wrap my legs around, and a cock that’s used to bring me pleasure, unlike anything I’ve ever known.
Mac kicks his jeans to the side of the room, and I’m pleased to see he’s gone his usual commando underneath. His dick is hard, and standing upright against his lower stomach, I have to stifle a moan when I see a bead of precum already beading at the tip. I haven’t even so much as touched him yet.
I knew he would like this.
His chest heaving, he stands in front of me, waiting for my next instruction. “Lay on the bed for me.”
I watch as his cock twitches before he says, “Yes, ma’am,” and I swear to God, a wave of pleasure runs through my body at his words alone.
I never thought I would like being dominant, especially considering how much I love it when they boss me around. I’m a submissive by nature, and I love it. But the other day, when I fucked Mac on that kitchen chair, when I climbed on top of him and used his body to bring myself pleasure, it woke something inside of me. Judging by the way his eyes darken every time I’ve called him a “good boy” or the way his breath hitches when I get a little rough with him, I think it’s safe to say it woke something he didn’t know he wanted inside of him too.
Once Mac’s laying on his bed, head resting on his pillows, I walk around the side. “Hands.”
Eagerly, Mac holds his hands out, and I tie his wrists together in a simple knot. Mac, only having a low sitting platform bed, doesn’t have a headboard like Finn or Ronan, so I grab the knot between his wrists and pull his hands up to rest on the bed just above his head. “I don’t have anything to tie you to, so can I trust you’ll leave them there?”
He nods, and I drag the tips of my fingers down his arm, along his abdomen, over his hips—careful not to touch his cock—and down his leg as I make my way back to the foot of the bed.
With his eyes glued on mine, I slowly unbutton the rest of Ronan’s shirt and let it fall to the floor. Mac’s eyes move over my entire body, over and over again, as if he can’t get enough, and it only builds my confidence more.
I can do this.
I drag my hand up my stomach, stopping once I reach my breast. Taking my swollen nipple between my fingers, I pinch it hard while my other hand skates between my legs. As I press my fingers against my clit I feel a rush of heat drip down my thighs.
“You’re so beautiful.”
“So are you.” He is so beautiful.
Unable to keep my hands off him any longer, I climb between his spread legs. Leaning forward, I run my tongue up the inside of his leg, just like he did to me in the kitchen. When my mouth reaches his upper thigh, just below his balls, he lets out a deep moan. Careful not to touch him where he wants most, I lift my mouth and repeat the same motion along his other leg. Once I reach the top of his thigh, I lift my tongue once again.
“Pretty girl,” he groans.
I smile up at him as my tongue meets his stomach, and the smell of ginger and cedarwood fills my senses. Crawling up his body, careful not to lift my mouth, I drag my tongue until it finds the shell of his neck. With my legs now straddling his, I make sure I lift my hips high enough so they don’t brush against him. His hips lift off the bed slightly, and I bite down against his skin. “Are you going to be a good boy and stay still?”
“For you, I’ll be such a good fucking boy.”
Emboldened, I move my mouth over his nipple. After lapping it with my tongue a few times, I take it between my teeth and give it a sharp tug.
“Shit . . .” he groans. I release it and work across his chest, paying the same attention to the other.
Good to know I’m not the only one who likes having my nipples played with.
“Harper, touch me, please. I’m dying here.”
Pulling my mouth from his chest, I smile up at him deviously and put my finger to my lips as if I’m thinking hard about his request. “Hmmm, tempting, but I don’t think I will.”
His head falls back with a groan, and I have to stifle a laugh. Sitting upright, I shuffle forward on my knees until I straddle his chest. “Think I’ll take something for myself instead.”
Careful not to hurt his arms, I rise up and place my knees in the space between his bent arms and the side of his face, his hands still bound together just above the top of his head. His eyes now have a full view of my pussy, and If I think too hard about how depraved this scene probably looks, my arousal might drip right onto his face.
