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"I know. More backstory. Let's not worry about it tonight."
"I need the missing piece before I can sleep, or I won't. Half a bedtime story just keeps me awake." She let her fingers drift across his chest, moving up to tangle in his loose hair. "You're handsome, you know. Really handsome."
"I'm knotty, like a brown stick with too much hair."
She laughed, as she was sure he intended, but she clung to the front of his T-shirt. "I don't want to make you sad, but I want to know you. Will you finish the story?"
He touched her face. Sighed. "Okay. If you show me your boobs."
"God, men are easy." She tugged the covers down, flashed her bare breasts at him, then her laugh caught in her throat as he gripped her wrist to keep her from pulling the blankets back up. Leaning down, he breathed heated air over one nipple, watching it crinkle under the attention. She quivered as he played the tip of his tongue over the areola, curled around it, then gave it his whole mouth. The deep, easy suckling had her sighing, folding both arms around his shoulders. In her languorous state, the desire unfurling inside of her was like being in a sauna. All of her was so loose and relaxed. When he lifted his head, she tried to keep him close.
"If you joined me under the covers," she whispered, "You'd slide into me like a steam bath. All slick and easy. I don't want you to spare me or let me rest, Des. I want you to have me as often as you want."
His eyes sharpened, as did the planes of his face, telling her the effect her words had on him. He loosened her arms, but his grip on her was urgent. "I want that to build, for both of us," he said. "I used you hard, Julie. Trust your Dom. I know what you need. If I take you now, I won't be gentle about it. Again."
She saw the truth in his eyes, which caused a tiny little shiver in her. "If you think that makes me want you any less, it's the wrong tactic."
His lips twisted ruefully. "I know. It's why you're like a drug. One of the reasons. Go to sleep."
"Finish the story first. Please."
He relented, though she noticed he shifted his gaze back to the shower curtain, as if he wasn't entirely comfortable. It was something people did when it was easier to pretend they were telling a story, rather than being the story themselves.
"When my mother took off from the hospital, she left behind a postcard of the ocean for me. Cherry Grove, North Myrtle Beach. It had four words on the back. 'Sorry. This is better.' I threw the damn thing away about a million times growing up. Every time, Betty would fish it from the trash and hold onto it until I regretted it and wanted it back. I guess I always counted on that, since I never threw it away where she couldn't get to it. I did tear it into three pieces once, and she taped them back together."
He tilted his head back and forth as if he was releasing tension in his neck. He was sitting up again, so she couldn't reach high enough to massage the area, but she did stroke the leg he had bent on the bed next to her. "Then one day Betty said: 'Maybe instead of focusing on what's on the back, focus on what's on the front. Your mother must have liked the ocean.' That message stuck with me. I could focus on the dark side or the
light. Focusing on the dark brought me nothing. When I focused on the light, I found I liked seagulls."
"I like seagulls, too. Maybe we could go to the beach together one weekend. I bet I could make a better sandcastle than you."
"I bet you couldn't."
"You're on. Loser has to paint the other's toenails."
"I prefer passion pink," he said seriously. He tugged the covers up again, with a last gratifying, lingering look at her breasts before he brushed her lips with his. "Go to sleep, crazy, gorgeous woman. So I can fuck you all over again."
Julie slowly became aware of her surroundings. It wasn't quite dawn, but thanks to the glow of an outdoor light on the property, she had enough light that the furniture was silhouetted in the living room. Des had eventually come to bed, so they could sleep with comfortably tangled limbs, but he was no longer in the bed with her. He wasn't far away, though. He was bent over her, looping rope around her wrists. Her heart and libido gave a simultaneous leap, making her twitch restlessly. He made a quelling noise, gentle but firm. Then he resumed the humming that had brought her so agreeably back to the surface.
It took a moment to figure out the slow-beat song with his off-tune cadence, but when she did, it gave her heart a little twist. "Oh Girl", by the Chi-Lites. She didn't think Des had chosen it lightly. Oh girl, I'd be in trouble if you left me now... how I depend on you...
"Making sure I can't leave?" she said.
She was on her side, her hands curled together like an infant in the womb. When she'd fallen asleep, Des had been flush against her, cradling her body inside the shelter of his, that spooning sensation that was the universally acknowledged best part of having someone in your bed. When the person was special, beginning to mean something, it was almost better than sex. Which with Des was saying something, since sex with him basically realigned her solar system.
She'd experienced just the opposite a few times, having sex with a guy and afterward just wanting him to go away so she could forget the mistake that had led to that decision. Spooning with someone in those circumstances was like being trapped together in a well where the water depth promised death by drowning.
Drowning with Des was a decidedly better experience. With him she became a mermaid, able to breathe underwater and see all the wonders of the deepest levels of the ocean.
My, hadn't she woken in a poetic frame of mind? She was also fast moving toward arousal, thanks to her Master's expert touch. She was still naked, and suddenly even more aware of it with her wrists tied. He was wrapping rope around her thighs, attaching her bound wrists to them with a short length so that her hands had to stay below her navel. Now he'd moved down to execute a loose figure eight wrap around her ankles. He overlapped her feet so her ankle bones weren't rubbing together.
The wrists-to-thigh tether also kept her knees pulled up to waist level, as if she were sitting in a chair, only lying on her side.
"Des."
He lithely moved over her body, settling in behind her, and she drew in a breath when he wrapped a hand in her hair and pulled her head back. Not a yank, but a firm tug that got her attention as he put his mouth over hers. He'd been chewing a piece of the cinnamon gum he favored, which made her self-conscious about morning breath, but he didn't seem put off by it. He curled his tongue around hers, stroking her with cinnamon heat and delving deep, his hand cradling her jaw as he pressed a turgid cock against her bare ass.
"Hate to waste a morning hard-on," he muttered against her mouth. "Especially when I've got a tight, warm pussy for it first thing. Like going down the rabbit hole to pure mind-blowing fucking bliss, all before breakfast."
