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I pull against the restraints again. He feels it. I can tell because resonance begins low inside him, barely more than a hum traveling through the mattress.
“Kell.”
“What?”
“Lower.”
He obeys, but not all the way. His mouth moves close enough that my hips lift toward him, chasing the contact.
“Kell.”
“Too slow?”
“You know it is.”
His resonance deepens. Oh, damn him, he does know.
He gives me what I asked for, just long enough to make pleasure gather sharply, then eases away before I can follow it anywhere. I pull against the restraints.
“You did that on purpose.”
“Yes.”
The answer sends another hot pulse through me. He builds me again, then backs off just enough to leave me aching.
“Kell.” This time his name is a warning.
“Yellow?”
“No.”
“Then tell me what you want.”
“More pressure.”
He gives me more.
“Yes.”
His tongue moves harder against my clit, and pleasure rolls through me so sharply my hips lift. Kell holds me where he wants me, my thighs open under his hands, and the sound that comes out of me has nothing restrained about it.
He answers with a low resonance that I feel against the most sensitive part of me. The sound isn’t only in his throat; it seems to travel through the entire living structure pressed against me.
Jesus. My head falls back against the pillow.
The running commentary finally shuts the fuck up. For one startling second, the silence inside my own head feels enormous.
Nothing disappears. The room is still here. The scarf is still snug around one wrist, the soft robe belt around the other. Kell’s hands are still warm around my thighs. The ceiling fan still moves air across damp skin.
What’s gone is the next instruction. There isn’t one. I don’t have to decide what comes next or wonder whether he needs something from me. I don’t have to change position because maybe this would work better or reach for him because I should be doing something too. I don’t have to keep one part of myself outside the experience making sure everything is going correctly.
My hands are useless above my head, and for once that feels like freedom. Kell has me, literally, and I trust him. After that, I stop thinking.
His mouth slows just enough to keep me from tipping over the edge, and desire gathers instead, layer upon layer, until every breath comes shorter than the last. My fingers curl around nothing as I pull against the ties and feel them hold.
Another stroke of his tongue. Another pulse of resonance from low in his chest. Heat coils lower and tighter.
“Kell.”
