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My thighs clench as his words vibrate through my clit. He releases my hair and runs his hand down my back softly.
“I’d love to feel how soft your pussy is inside. Love to feel you gripping my cock as I slide it into you. How would you like that?”
Even if I could respond, I have no idea what to say.
Cree chuckles softly before he lets go and walks around in front of me.
I watch his face closely as he loops another rope around the top of my thigh. The look on his face is so intense, so focused, it takes my breath away. He weaves ropes around me and around the ropes themselves, pulls his arm out to toss the end of the rope off to one side, and then quickly brings it back again. I feel the rough fibers tighten around my leg, just along the outer labia. I wonder if I can shift my weight enough to get the rope to move a little closer to the place that is throbbing for some friction.
Cree glances up, catching my stare, and smiles slyly. He pulls the rope taut before grabbing the section around my waist and pulling me close to him.
“Patience,” he says softly.
Placing one hand on my shoulder, he leans in close enough that our lips are nearly touching and stares into my eyes. I shift forward, my gaze focused on his lips, but as I do, he pushes away with the hand on my shoulder, denying me the kiss.
Bastard.
He grins again, grabs a rope at my side, and spins me around. If it weren’t for his firm grip on the ropes, I would have fallen with the abrupt change of movement, but he keeps me upright.
Safe.
I feel his touch on my palm, and I squeeze his fingers automatically. He hums approval as he places his fingers in my other palm—I can’t even tell which is right and which is left anymore—and I squeeze again.
He moves around me quickly, removing my jeans first and then tying ropes to my ankles and around my knees and thighs. He makes neat little knots in a twisted row up the side of my leg. When he runs out of one rope, he grabs another, quickly tying it to the end of the previous one and continuing on smoothly, wrapping me in rough, taut rope like I’m preparing to be mummified.
Cree stands and moves behind me, holding me close against him as he trails a rope over my stomach. He holds the end with his fingers as he draws it farther down, and finally—finally—I feel the pressure against my clit.
And then it’s gone.
I moan in frustration, and Cree chuckles again. I feel the rope through my panties as it slides against the crack of my ass and then up my back. He grips me again with one arm around my waist, then pulls lightly against the rope between my legs, granting me the friction I crave.
I moan loudly this time, and he tugs a little harder.
“You like that?” He tugs the rope again, moving it side to side slightly.
I gasp in response, eyes closed as I press my back to his chest. He releases the tension, allowing the rope to go slack between my legs, holding me in place when I try to sink lower to capture the pressure again.
“Imagine all the things I could do to you,” he says quietly.
A moment later, I’m on my knees. I’m not even sure how much of the descent was tension on the ropes or just Cree pushing me down, but here I am, kneeling with my forehead on the floor. I barely felt any impact.
Actually, I feel nothing—nothing except his cock pressed firmly against the crotch of my panties as he kneels between my legs.
He grinds against me as he pulls on the rope around my knees and under my legs, curling my body into a ball, knees against my chest. He grabs the ropes at the center of my back, rolling me back and forth as he continues to press his cock against me.
Cree’s hand moves from the center of my shoulder blades to the back of my neck. He pushes me down a little further until my breasts are smashed against the floor. I feel his fingers creep around to my throat, and he grips me firmly but not enough to cut off my airflow. It doesn’t matter. I can’t breathe anyway.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I’m hit with a very real and intense fear.
What have I done? I’ve allowed this man to tie me up, leaving myself completely and totally vulnerable. Why? Just because I crushed on him as a teenager? Am I insane? How well do I really know this man—a man I haven’t even spoken to for years? At this point, if he were to decide to fuck me, there is no way I could stop him. Is that what I want? I nearly said as much before, but this…this is different.
I feel his hot breath at
my ear.
“You still okay?” he asks quietly. “If this is too much, tell me.”
Instantly, with his reassuring words and his gentle touch, the fear melts away.
