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It’s right then I jump on board with this idea. Because life isn’t worth living if I’m scared all the time. He’s right—I’m safe with him, and I’m safe here. I lift my hand and take the bandana, catching the simmer of excitement in his expression. “When do we start?”
He takes a step back, crossing his arms. “I’ll give you a minute head start.”
I stare into the heat of his eyes, into the promise of satisfaction in their depths if I do as he asks of me. His mouth twitches, eyebrow arches. “You better start running, sweetheart.”
Broken from the spell, I gasp in laughter and spin on my heels, running out of the cabin. Okay, so maybe he’s onto something. This is fun. Even if I sense the desire roaring through me at the idea of him finding me, and what he’ll do when he does, I can’t help but smile when I enter the forest at the back of the cabin.
Thinking it wise to stay close to the trail, to not get lost, I run up the slight incline. When I reach a set of boulders, I notice a smaller trail off to the right. It’s on that trail I find two mature trees in front of more boulders at the back. I decide I’d look quite pretty there in front of that view, stark naked.
I move there quickly, removing my shirt and then my bra on the way, my heart hammering in my ears. I set my shirt and bra down onto the flat rock then set to getting out of my shorts and panties. In between the two trees, there’s a soft patch of mud so I ditch the shoes and go there.
Naked, I hope to hell that no one else is walking this trail, which I guess they won’t be. I haven’t seen anyone else except off in the distance. I turn toward the trail and exhale deeply, attempting to slow my racing heartbeat. I discover I’ve picked the perfect place. When Jackson walks up the incline, he’ll be able to see me for a while. It will take him some time to get to me, and I shiver at the thought of that. I like knowing I’ll tease him. That when he reaches me his cock will be hard, and he’ll be craving me. It’s about damn time he suffers in his desire like I’ve suffered for two years.
I draw in another deep breath and glance down, folding the bandana into a blindfold before placing it over my eyes and tying it around my head. Darkness settles across my vision, and the only light comes from directly below me through the couple centimeters of gap by my nose.
It’s easy to start fretting now. To worry that someone else is going to find me here like this. To be concerned that maybe Jackson won’t see me. To think about a million other scenarios that might happen. Instead, I decide to shut my eyes altogether, letting the experience happen and not fighting it.
I can’t be sure how long has gone by since I first put on the blindfold, every minute seeming like an hour. I’m hyperaware of my surroundings. The birds singing off in the distance. The mouse or chipmunk scurrying behind me. Even the way the warm breeze caresses my puckered nipples. More importantly, I’m acutely aware of the wetness between my thighs, the heat there.
Suddenly, a crunching sound catches my breath in my throat. I cock my head, hearing another crunch against the forest floor. I smile, embracing the energy surrounding me. I can feel Jackson watching me. He doesn’t need to say a word. I know he’s there, and I know it’s him. I feel his passion pulsating around me. It’s palpable. Tangible, even.
The crunching of his shoes against the branches and the rocks gets closer…and closer…and closer, my heartbeat banging in my ears.
Then all that power is in front of me. “Good girl,” Jackson murmurs in my ear.
I gasp the breath I’d been holding when he uses the tips of his fingers to drag down my arm until he’s reaching for my wrist. My world narrows on him while he wraps the rope around my wrist then ties the binding to the tree. I listen to his soft, calm breathing when he repeats the move on the other hand. I’m ready for him to kiss me, and I angle my chin up.
His lips never meet mine.
His fingers tickle down my legs, and soon I discover he’s got more rope than I originally thought. I feel the smooth glide of the rope around my ankle until it’s pulled tight, clearly attached to the tree. By the time he’s done with the other ankle, I’m left in an X position, bound to his desires.
I don’t get the chance to feel anything but wanted by him as his hands are dragging down my thighs. Slowly. Sensually. I can’t be sure but I think he’s on a knee in front of me. I swear I can even feel his breath on my sex…
A light lick on my inner thigh has my head falling back and a moan breaking free from my throat. My wrists and ankles burn when I pull against them, wanting to grab his head, demand more of his mouth. I need more than the light flicks he’s giving me but he’ll have none of it. He’s teasing, I can tell, and he apparently likes to watch me struggle in the bindings.
Over and over again, he doesn’t stop licking everywhere but where I want him to go until I begin outright trembling. His soft chuckle brushes warm air across my sex, and I gasp and breathe, “Jackson.”
His lips seal over my clit, sucking deeply, his fingers sliding up inside me. I sink into the pleasure, thrusting my hips forward, and he doesn’t disappoint. In between sucking, he flicks the bundle of nerves with his tongue, thrusting his fingers up inside me until my breath hitches. My head turns from side to side, and the rope is burning in the most perfect way. Then he goes harder. Sucking with intent. Finger fucking me roughly. And it’s all I need
to break open.
I lean against the rope and into his brand of pleasure, and I scream, riding out my orgasm.
When I crash from the high, his fingers are gone. He presses a soft kiss to my clit and I gasp, oversensitive now, earning another chuckle from him. Slowly, he slides his hands back up my thighs until he’s in front of me again.
I hear him open his shorts. He pauses. There’s no movement, nothing but the leaves rustling in the trees. I listen harder, finally catching his deep breaths. Goosebumps rise on my flesh, realizing he’s examining me. Heat begins to pool low in my body again, awakening everything that was satisfied moments ago, when I hear skin smoothing against skin. To be the view that Jackson jerks off to is foreplay all on its own.
I struggle against the binding again, both wanting to see and touch him. Fuck, to even taste him. And yet, in the oddest way not being able to only makes me burn hotter. I feel bare to him, used by him but in the sexiest way possible that I get off on. I’m aware of nothing else but the desire sizzling through me when I sense him moving in behind me. Doing as he seems to like to do, he commands me, grabbing my waist and entering me, right to the hilt.
That’s when I realize there’s a difference between this man and every lover before him. Jackson apparently knows how to fuck a woman good and properly. I don’t need sex to last an hour. I don’t want slow affection. I want to come, and I want him to ravage me so I can.
As if he already knows this about me, he thrusts his fingers into my hair with one hand, angling my head back, showing me who’s in charge. His other fingers are digging in my hip. With hard and forceful thrusts of his hips, he’s pounding into me.
It’s all so much. The bindings. The blindfold. Him. Every scent. Every smell. I’m aware of so much. How he fills me. How masculine he feels when he leans over me, nipping at my shoulder and cupping my breasts like they belong to him. His hands are everywhere but his touch feels like it’s soul deep. And after a squeeze of my breasts, he runs his hands back along my sides then grasps my hips, and he growls in my ear.
It’s feral. It’s savage. And I fucking love it.
I moan, vocalizing just how much, and then his cock is gone. His hand comes down on my ass, and I feel the burn of his fingers. It should hurt, I think, but it doesn’t.
