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“I think you’ve been begging to lose your whole life, Kara,” he tells me. “I think you’re used to being too much for men—too smart, too funny, too intense, too fucking bright. You cast a wide shadow, and they get lost in it.”
“A wide shadow,” I whisper as Eric’s scissors snip away the other side of my shorts. “Are you calling me fat?” I tease.
“The only thing fat about you are those saucy lips of yours,” Eric says, pulling my shorts away.
> And then there I am—with Eric and his huge fucking cock and his shirtless torso between my legs. My cunt is dripping, my clit is twitching, and he still has those sharp fucking scissors—which, for some reason, I also find hot.
“You’re wet,” Eric observes. “Or are we still pretending that you don’t want this?”
“Ugh,” I groan, bucking my hips toward him. “I want it. Of course I fucking want it.”
“Ah,” Eric sighs. He moves over me, stroking my pussy lips with his fingers. “So we’re agreed that I had every right to tie you up here—just so we’re clear.”
“Mmm,” I moan. “Fuck. Yes, okay, fine. I’ve just…oh god, right there—I’ve never done any of this BDSM bullshit before okay?”
I can feel him laugh as he dips his lips to my stomach, kissing across it and lingering in between lip prints. “Is that so? I’m surprised, Kara. You’re a difficult girl to pin down.”
I don’t know if it’s the tickle of his lips against my stomach—I’m not used to being kissed there—or if it’s the bad bondage joke, but either way, he leaves me giggling as he kisses his way down to my cunt.
Tied to a sexy, buff billionaire’s bed. I wish I could tell Fat Kara about this, because she wouldn’t fucking believe me.
This isn’t some smutty romance novel. Girls like me aren’t supposed to get the dude (or dudes, for that matter).
And yet…there Eric is. Mouth poised between my legs. The humidity of his breath lingering over my clit.
“Are you going to lick that, or do I need to call you Master first?” I sass down at him, because Jesus fucking Christ, Eric. I need an orgasm like, now.
I’m literally going to die if he doesn’t lick me soon—there’s no way he only tied me up so he could fucking look at my pussy!
“You’ll call me Eric, slut, and you’ll like it.”
“Oh…fuck, Eric,” I moan as he finally gives in and makes out with my wet, soaked cunt the way I fucking want.
He teases my clit with his tongue. He sucks it between his lips, rolling it back and forth until I’m whimpering like a bitch. He presses it gently between his teeth, and then he does something.
I don’t know what it is, and I probably never will—because when he does it, my whole body goes rigor mortis for a second, and I realize the real reason Eric has leather cuffs attached to his bed.
It’s not just so he can lure innocent models into it and then keep them from escaping, no.
It’s because when he licks my cunt, I lose full control of my body. Whatever he’s doing to my clit makes my arms and legs twitch and thrash and strain so hard against the cuffs that I know in an instant that, if I wasn’t restrained, I’d be in danger of hurting him—or, more likely, myself.
That first orgasm hits me hard. Like being punched in the face—only by, like, a train or something. It makes me scream and moan and hyperventilate, and just when I think it might let up, I realize it’s actually arrived at this panty party with a fucking friend.
Two orgasms like that, one after another, would normally be enough to exhaust me completely. But that’s nothing compared to what Eric has in store next.
“Tell me how you lost your virginity,” Eric commands.
I swallow hard. I’ve barely returned to reality from the orgasmic plane, and he’s asking me questions? The fuck, dude?
“I’m not sure I still know English right now,” I laugh.
But then his thumb is on my clit, and fuck, fuck, fuck! This is a man who really knows how to get a girl to do his bidding. If he keeps rubbing my clit like that, he could ask me to speak fucking Finnish for him, and I’d find a way.
“Fuck—uh…oh, god, please, Eric!” I whimper.
“Answer the question.”
I want to fight him. I want to snarl and hiss and sass and call him names.
