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I lost my ballet flats somewhere between the front door and the bed. I'm not even sure where they are or when they went missing. But I wriggle back onto the pillows and lift my hips, slowly working my jeans and panties down my hips.
He licks his lips, his expression darkening. The way he looks at me…I don't feel short and chubby when he looks at me. I feel powerful, desirable, and beautiful. It's as if he's spellbound, completely incapable of tearing his eyes away from me. I don't know a single woman alive who doesn't want someone to see her the same way.
"Spread your legs, baby. Let me see what you've been protecting for me."
I slowly let my legs fall open, my hands clenched in the blankets. I know he can see how wet I am. He can see everything. The thought…excites me. I want him to see what he does to me. I want him to know how wild he makes me and how badly I ache for him.
He stares at my pussy, working his fist up and down his shaft until I can't stand it anymore. I slip my hand down my stomach, desperate to ease a little of the ache growing more intense by the minute. Before my fingers even make contact with my center, his hand locks around my wrist.
"You don't touch what belongs to me without my permission, little one."
"Creed," I whine, not above begging.
"Your world begins and ends with me in this bed," he reminds me, stooping to grab something from the floor. "I make you come, Jessie. Not you. Put your arms up over your head."
I briefly consider putting my hands around his throat and strangling him instead of obeying the bossy bastard, but curiosity gets the better of me when I see my panties in his hands. I lift my arms over my head, wrapping my hands around the bars of the headboard.
Within seconds, I'm tied to the headboard with my own panties and he's stepping back to admire his handiwork, satisfaction blazing in his eyes.
"You tied me up with my panties," I growl.
"Mmhmm. And if you're a real good girl, I won't gag you with them next time."
Oh, jeez. Why is that hot?
Satan himself envies his wicked smile. I know he does.
"Overgrown bully," I mutter without heat.
"Don't act like you don't fucking love it, Jessie." He leans down, capturing a nipple between his teeth. His bite sends a jolt straight to my clit.
I cry out, pulling against the ties binding me to the bed, arching toward his mouth. His hand runs down my side all the way to my knee and then back up, his rough palm leaving a trail of fire in its wake. God, he feels amazing.
He releases my nipple, dragging it through his teeth.
"Are you comfortable, little one?" he asks, switching from filthy to sweet in the blink of an eye. He reaches up to check my wrists, his eyes locked on my face. "Are they too tight?"
"No," I whisper, shaking my head.
"Do you want me to untie you?"
God no.
"No."
"If you change your mind, just say the word."
"I will," I promise.
"Good." He presses his lips to mine…and then the bossy bastard is back. He moves down my body like a storm, completely annihilating my defenses. His hands and mouth are everywhere, touching, kissing, and biting.
I cry out, sobbing his name into the room as he wrecks me again and again. He grunts against my skin, pulling one nipple into his mouth and then leaving a red blotch against the side of my other breast. He licks a trail down my belly and dips his tongue into my belly button. He nips my stomach, littering my skin with little love bites.
I struggle against the ties, rattling the headboard in my quest to get my hands on him. But I think he might have been a Boy Scout in a former life. All I manage to do is turn my arms to Jell-O and shift the pillow from beneath my head.
"Poor baby," he croons, shouldering his way between my legs. "Can't get what you want?"
I blow my hair out of my face and send him a baleful, mutinous glare. "You're torturing me on purpose," I growl.
