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Christian studied me as he ran that feather everywhere, along my neck, my nipples, my thighs exposed below my dress. He watched me with an intensity that sometimes made me want to close my eyes, but at the same time I couldn’t because I had to see him. He grounded me. He was my focus point, my reassurance. It was like Christian was strong enough for him and me both, because I felt weak right now. Everything with the wedding and Bradley and a total shift in my life and the understanding of who I am had me vulnerable.
And Christian knew that.
He was in charge, and in the weirdest way, I wanted that. I liked it. I could let go, just like he said.
It didn’t mean I was totally comfortable, but I was also very much turned on.
Christian shifted my dress up with his hand so it bunched up at the waist, along with being pulled down at the neck. The illusion of being covered helped me feel relaxed, especially because my panties were still on. My bra was yanked down, but it felt like a barrier that I needed right now. His touch through my panties was more arousing than I would have expected. I didn’t even balk when he slipped a finger into my impressively damp pussy.
I was ridiculously proud of that moisture. It didn’t always happen, not readily anyway. Bradley could have bought stock in lube and made a killing given how much we needed for our sex life. I assumed it was me.
But after a few kisses, a few minutes of having my nipples sucked, a little light feather tickling, and I was warm and welcome for Christian. Oh, not to mention I was tied up. And enjoying it. It gave me a shot of confidence. I didn’t protest when he slid my panties down, though I did jerk a little when his mouth descended onto me.
“I don’t know…” My protest was weak and uncertain. My legs were still firmly together and he didn’t attempt to pry them apart, which helped me relax again.
“Just give me a minute. I want a little taste, princess, that’s all. If you still don’t like it, I’ll stop.”
His beard tickled my inner thighs. This didn’t feel bad. He flicked his tongue over my clit. In fact, it actually felt kind of good. Maybe it was because I wasn’t spread open like a Thanksgiving turkey getting stuffed. Having my legs together made it less suggestive. It was just kind of warm and cozy, his hands brushing over my waist as he gently explored.
It was interesting. He stroked, and while I wasn’t sure exactly how amazing it felt, my body was responding. That ache he had inspired was growing stronger and I was becoming wetter. When he sucked on my clitoris, I actually let out a gasp. “What…”
I wasn’t sure what I was asking, I just knew that I had turned a corner because holy shit, that felt like something really good. It was like adding sriracha to hummus. It kicked it up a notch. He didn’t suck long, just enough to give me a little heat, then he went back to using his tongue in soft strokes.
“Still okay?” he murmured. “Or should I stop?”
“Don’t stop,” I heard myself pant. “Oh geez.” I jerked my hands against the restraints, wanting to either push him deeper into me or yank his head away, I wasn’t sure which. But I was trapped. It was sexy as hell, which shocked me. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I shifted restlessly on the bed.
“I won’t stop, I promise.” He did that thing again where he dipped deep inside me.
Then he utterly shocked me by reaching up with both hands and squeezing and twisting my nipples. I let out a cry of pleasure. I wasn’t sure where the feather had gone, but I was way past that soft tease. I liked the twist he was giving my taut nipples. It was an amazing trifecta. A trio of stimulation. My thighs clamped on to his head without my realizing it. I was trying to hold him, and with my hands unusable I needed something, some way to ground myself.
Briefly I closed my eyes and dragged in a deep breath.
And suddenly, without warning, I came. With a power and an intensity I had never known. It felt like I was sucked away on a tidal wave and tossed into the ocean. First a violent tumble, then a silent descent into an abyss. A dark hole of ecstasy. I couldn’t make a sound and I couldn’t dig my nails into him. I could only arch my back, let my eyes roll back in my head, and let pleasure wash over me.
When I finally stopped shuddering, Christian paused, then moved up the length of me. He undid first one wrist, then the other, rubbing them gently. He brushed my hair back. “You okay?”
I nodded, not finding any words. I was stunned that I had had an orgasm. Like that. So easily.
Maybe there was hope for me yet.
“You’re amazing,” he murmured, shifting over me, kissing my stomach, my ribs, my nipples, as he ascended. “You broke beautifully for me, princess. I’m so fucking hard for you right now.”
He wasn’t kidding. I could feel his erection pressing against me. I tried to glance down to see it, but his body was crowding mine. “What now?” I asked, which was possibly the stupidest question I have ever asked.
“Now I make you come again.”
As he pulled down an unopened box of condoms from the shelf of sin on the caboose wall, I marveled at what was happening.
And when he nudged my thighs open with a very hard, very large cock, I didn’t feel nervous. I wanted him. I gripped his muscular biceps and gasped in pleasure when he sank inside my wet, welcoming body.
I felt no regret for leaving Bradley at the altar. No guilt. No fear or worry or sadness.
I just felt like getting fucked. Not pleasant, vanilla sex. Not over-the-top porn stuff. But fucked. And Christian was doing just that.
