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though it wasn’t as rough as she liked it, it still felt good. It felt
fantastic. Beck plucked at her other nipple with his fingers. Meg
imagined that he had placed her in nipple clamps. He would tighten
them just to the point of pain, and then his eyes would heat as he
looked at her, trussed up and gilded for his pleasure. She would be his
plaything.
Bound
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His hand left her nipple, traveling down toward her pussy. He slid
a finger through her labia. His head came up in surprise as he found
the folds of her pussy already slick.
“You’re wet.” His fingers slid all around her pussy, delving deep
and then shallow, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was
feeling. “You’re soaking wet.”
Meg’s face flushed. She tried to pull away. She was sure he would
take it as proof of her wantonness. “Sorry.”
He put his hand around her throat to stop her from squirming, and
she felt a fresh rush of arousal spark through her. His hand was still
moist from her pussy as he circled her neck. He couldn’t know what
his hand collaring her neck did for her. He would be shocked if he
did.
“You still want me,” he said with a great amount of relief. It
seemed to break something in him, and he kissed her harder than
before. He was still careful, but he seemed less tentative. Meg felt his
iron-willed control. He was using it to hold himself back. Meg wanted
to beg him to let go, to use that will on her. She would like it. She
craved it. But she held her tongue, knowing he wouldn’t welcome that
part of her.
Then she wasn’t thinking at all as his hand trailed back down, and
he started to rub little circles around her clitoris.
