Page 67 of Firefly Embers

“What have I told you about that fucking nickname?” I reminded her gruffly, running my palm up between her breasts and resting my grip on her throat. I used my thumb and index finger to apply minimal pressure, causing a low moan to escape from her mouth.

“What nickname, Waddle?” she challenged with a grin.

A low groan rolled through my throat as I pulled her to me by her neck, smashing my lips against hers. She met me stroke for stroke as our bodies collided, and she ground her core against my thick erection. There was nothing gentle as we let our bodies take over.

I took a step back, tugging my T-shirt over my head in a one-handed motion, slowly stalking back toward her. She stood, wide-eyed and panting, as I stepped in front of her, lowering my lips to hover over the shell of her ear.

“Lose the fucking clothes, Sunshine,” I growled.

With unhurried ease, she pulled her top over her head, her heavy breasts swathed in white lace, a stark contrast to her caramel skin. As she reached to unbutton her jeans, I stopped her hand, slowly sinking down to kneel at her feet.

I placed open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of her stomach, my fingers deftly unbuttoning her jeans and slowly lowering the zipper. Her fingers tangled in the now-shorter strands of my hair, and I could feel her long nails scratching at my scalp.

My eyes involuntarily closed as she gently caressed me, and I torturously lowered her pants, tapping one foot and then the next for her to step out.

Looking up at the goddess before me, I took in the sight of her ragged breaths, her nipples peaked in pleasure, straining behind the lacy cups of her bra, begging to be lavished by my tongue.

Her trim waist and flared hips led down to matching white lace panties as I leaned forward, pressing my nose to her center and inhaling.

Fuck, how I’d missed this woman. How had I gone an entire lifetime without touching, tasting, and fucking her? She was perfection.

Standing at my full height, I reached behind her and flicked the clasp on her bra, letting the lace cups fall to the floor. Her dusky nipples were stiff with desire, and I leaned down, blowing cool air on them.

She moaned, tipping her head back against the door, angling her body upward into mine, begging for my mouth to suck one of those pretty buds between my lips.

An idea sparked in my head, and I took a step back, pressing a finger to Ray’s plush mouth. “Wait here.”

She groaned, keeping her head back against the door as if waiting one more second would be her ultimate demise.

I rooted around in my closet, finally finding what I was looking for buried under forgotten rodeo buckles and a couple of pairs of jeans.

Stepping out of the door, I ran the braided nylon rope between my fingers. Ray’s mouth dropped open in clear excitement as she watched me stalk slowly toward her, the piggin string flowing through my hand.

Standing in front of her, I trailed the string across her breasts and down one arm. Grabbing hold of her wrist and catching her gaze, I said, “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” she whispered reverently, no hesitation in her words.

I looped the string around one wrist, then grabbed the other and tied them together, tugging the ties into a quick knot. I slid the rope around, making sure it wasn’t too tight.

Coincidentally, there was a hook on the back of my door, and content with her restraints, I tugged her hands up and secured the knot on the hook.

“You good?” I asked softly, making sure the string wasn’t cutting into her wrists as she was stretched out before me.

“Never better,” she crooned.

“If anything starts to hurt, tingle, or feel numb, let me know immediately. All you have to do is say ‘stop,’ and I’ll untie you,” I commanded.

Consent and boundaries were exceptionally important if we were going to be exploring things like rope play in our sex life.

She nodded, tugging gently at the bindings on her wrists, testing her limits.

Having her spread out before me, unable to touch back, had my cock throbbing behind my zipper. Her arms strained against the restraints, and she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the ground. The tightness it drew on her body had her breasts pushed forward, and I could see each deep inhale of air into her lungs.

“So pretty, bound up against my door, ready to take my cock,” I said as I eased the zipper of my jeans down, shoving both my pants and boxer briefs to the floor.

Kicking them off my ankles, I stroked my cock languidly, using the drops of pre-cum that beaded on the tip as lube.

“Have you been waiting for this, Sunshine?”