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He dipped his head back, breathed on her sensitive skin, making her shiver. "You taste so good, I could eat you forever."
His words made her weak, and she swayed.
He gave a subtle laugh, breathing on her skin again, and then pounced back in.
Desperate for her release, she began responding to him, her hips moving of their own accord. The rough touch of his stubble brushing against her perineum was like a trigger point, hitting over and over. He moved faster, his tongue stroking in around her labia then lapping at her clit, before roving down and pushing inside her sex.
"Oh, oh, Tommy," she cried, on the brink.
He bit into her gently, halting her, drawing out the pleasure, then alternating fast and slow strokes, sucking and nibbling. He was eating her up, his mouth moving from her dripping hole, back up to her clit, where he nursed it in his mouth, sending wave after wave of hot pleasure through her groin.
As she got clo
ser to her peak, her hips rolled back and forth in time with his strokes, reaching out for the orgasm. His tethered arms squeezed against the underside of her thighs, his shoulders hard under her buttocks. He was nurturing her, encouraging her, and that made her melt. She almost gave in and went for his cock, but wouldn't let herself—not yet.
He ran his teeth gently over her clit and that was it, her sex clenched, went into spasm. Shuddering, her body quaked with intensity. Liquid dribbled down her thighs and onto his face.
"Easy, girl." His voice brought her back.
She loved it when he said that, it made her feel warm inside, warm in a different way. She pulled herself together, she didn't want him to know she was ready to undo him and be held, be loved. She was fighting it hard, and she shuffled back, wiping his face with trembling fingers. Dropping down, she kissed him.
He reached for her kiss, his tongue eager for her, and she returned it briefly, before moving away. She picked up her robe and headed for the bathroom. She heard him call her name in a querying tone, and felt guilty. "Give me a minute, I won't be long."
Closing the door behind her, she leaned back against it, shutting her eyes. She was starting to get a grip, thank god. She'd got so wrapped up in their coupling, she'd kind of lost her focus. Her blood was still racing, though, her sex on fire, liquid heat running down her thighs. She rubbed them together sending an after tremor of pleasure through her body. It had been so hot, his large masculine body bound for her. The power of controlling him had made her wetter than she'd ever been. And he'd been willing, egging her on. This was supposed to be about getting revenge, playfully. He was enjoying it far too much. Pervert.
She gave an incredulous laugh, opened her eyes, and went over to the fancy vanity unit to check her makeup. The mirror was surrounded by built-in lights, the fixtures luxurious. She'd treated herself to the robe and undies as well as new cosmetics, some hot lipstick and some perfume she thought would match the surroundings. This was her treat, and she was enjoying every moment of it.
Her own mischievous smile empowered her again. She reapplied her lipstick, a shade she thought would be better named "hussy red" than "pillar box," checked her profile, and took a deep breath as she left the bathroom.
What a sight. He looked like some fantasy painting by Boris Vallejo, one of her favorite artists. Vallejo depicted men of power and muscle in fantasy scenarios, and Tommy looked that way now, like a mighty warrior bound and imprisoned.
She could have admired him all evening, but she still had an agenda—and a point to prove. She reached over to the bedside cabinet and opened the drawer. Pulling out the CD Clayton had signed for her earlier that week she waved it in front of his face. "This is what I wanted to see Clayton about, an autograph for my friend. None of you actually believed a word I said."
He gave a soft sigh. "I'm sorry. I can see it's the truth, and that it really matters to you."
"Of course it does."
"You have to admit, you did look as if you were up to something dodgy, shooting out of a private dressing room, don't you think? If you'd been in my position, you'd have thought the very same thing."
She wriggled her shoulders. He was right, but she wanted him to believe her now, above all. "It's the assumption that annoys me. If you had believed me in the first place, maybe you wouldn't have abandoned me in a hotel room—"
"I didn't abandon you," he interrupted. "I came back."
He came back. "...and you wouldn't be in this situation."
"This 'situation' isn't so bad." He winked. "If I'd have believed you, and you'd got your autograph, I wouldn't have had a reason to spank you, my dear." He grinned at her, moving his arms and nodding at his tethering. "Now, why don't you untie me, and we can get down to something much more satisfying than arguing about how we met."
"Not so fast, buddy."
"Kelly..." There was a plea there now, and a frown had appeared on his forehead.
"I figured the pain of a sustained erection might be a punishment in a league of its own."
He stared at her, uncomprehending at first. Then his lips tightened. "You're probably right, but aren't you punishing yourself for the sake of punishing me? Don't you want to come again, and again? I can make you, you know I can."
Her sex clenched. She sighed audibly. "Oh, don't worry so." She stroked his cheek, cupping it, and savoring the feel of it in her hand. "I'm not done with you yet."
She walked to the other side of the room where her underwear had landed. Pulling on her panties, she noticed his expression growing concerned.
