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“Don’t move.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Johnny felt something incredibly light expand his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually had fun with a woman. And with a woman who knew exactly what he was prepared to offer. The same as him.
He eased away from Ashling and stood up. His gaze devoured her. She was all delicate curves with those long slim legs. She had a neatly trimmed cluster of blond curls between her legs, which made his blood fire up even more. Personally he found women who went the full bare monty a turnoff.
He turned and went to his chest of drawers and pulled out a tie. One of the few he owned. He curled it around both hands and came back to the bed slowly, stretching it taut, seeing how Ash’s eyes widened.
She fluttered her eyelashes in mock terror. “Why, sir, what are you going to do with that?
Johnny’s excitement spiked. “I’m going to restrain those distracting little hands of yours.”
“Oh, no, don’t, stop... Please, you can’t...” Ash’s deadpan delivery was about as convincing as her mock terror.
Johnny had to curb a laugh as he came down on the bed and made quick, efficient work of tying her hands together and then off to one of the wooden slats.
He put his arms either side of her and came down close to her face, brushing his mouth lightly over hers. When he drew back he said, “It’s a good thing you weren’t in front of the cameras on the films. That little performance would have earned you a Razzie.”
He reached for an eye mask in his bedside cabinet. He used it sometimes when he slept during the day if he’d been working all night. He slipped it over Ash’s head, settling it over her eyes.
She grumbled now, “Trussing me up like a blind turkey better not just be diversionary tactics because you can’t deliver, Ryan.”
Johnny came up off the bed and looked at Ash, her hands tied together. Eyes hidden. Her body laid out for him. He quickly took off his jeans and grabbed a condom to have it close by. He wouldn’t last long. He knew it.
* * *
I could hear what Johnny was doing—his jeans dropped heavily to the ground. My insides twisted. Christ. This kind of light bondage had never really turned me on before. I’d never felt comfortable with it, too vulnerable. But right now I felt as primed to explode as a firecracker at Mardi Gras.
For a few seconds I heard nothing, and my ears strained to pick up any sound. Then I imagined Johnny looking at me and I shivered.
“Cold, Ash?”
He was obviously surveying me like some kind of concubine. And Jesus, I loved it.
“No, I’m toasty.”
I heard a dark chuckle. And then he moved between my legs. His hands came to my thighs again and pushed them wide. My pussy wept. Literally wept.
Johnny’s voice was low, throaty. “You’re very responsive, Ash. Has anyone ever told you that?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t actually speak. It was as if tiny little needles of sensation were pricking all over my skin. He settled on his knees between my legs, his body pushing my thighs apart more.
I was completely at his mercy now and it felt curiously liberating. I scowled inwardly. No doubt Sigmund Candy Freud would have had a field day with that little nugget.
Johnny’s hands smoothed up my thighs, so slowly that I had to stop my back from arching and my hips swiveling. They went all the way up until his thumbs rested just either side of my pussy.
And then warm breath tickled my inner thigh and his mouth touched me there. His tongue was hot, teeth nipping gently. I could almost sense the blood rushing to the surface, blooming. But mostly it rushed to my clit, which was throbbing gently. My thigh muscles quivered as Johnny’s hand soothed me, as if I was a nervy foal.
Having no sight meant that everything was deliciously heightened. And a part of me was glad that Johnny couldn’t see my eyes because I wasn’t sure I wanted him to read what might be there. This is just a fuck, I repeated to myself.
His thumbs crept closer, over the folds protecting my sex. I could hear the slickness of my juices but was too turned on to be embarrassed. One thumb dipped in, spreading my folds, running up the cleft of my body.
I tensed all over, picturing Johnny studying me. Seeing how aroused I was.
When his rough tongue made contact with my exposed lips, I nearly leaped off the bed, hands pulling tight on the tie. He held me down, though, with those big hands, pushing my thighs apart, opening me up to him. And he was remorseless.
His tongue was like a weapon of mass sensual destruction, exploring my pussy with the kind of thoroughness that wet dreams were made of. When he found and sucked on my clit, my back arched off the bed and my buttocks tightened. I was literally pushing myself onto Johnny’s tongue.
