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I can’t move. I can’t think. I can barely breathe as he fucks me.
I’m thankful he tied my arms. I’m not sure how to respond to him, and I’d feel like I couldn’t keep up if he let me have any physical control.
“Come, wife.”
I don’t think I’m close. I’m all over the place, barely staying present. But his fingers pinch my clit, and I explode all over his dick.
Convulsing, my head is spinning.
“You have no idea all the things I plan on doing to you, wife. Being tied like this is nothing compared to what I really want.” He nips at my earlobe. “I want you covered in ropes so you can’t move a single muscle without my say so. I want to paint your ass red with my hand. I want you on your knees, submitting to my every command.”
I swallow hard, not ready to admit out loud how hot and turned I am by the thought of him doing any of those things. I’m not ready to admit that I want this more than once. That will be a decision for tomorrow after my head clears.
He smirks, seeing my need on my face.
I blush.
“Don’t you dare blush for having fantasies. Especially when they’re fantasies I’m very willing to fulfill.”
“They’re not my fantasies—they’re yours,” I whisper back. But even as I say it, I know that’s not true. My own mind is whizzing with the different positions we could get into. Visions flood my mind of the ways he could dominate my body and make me feel things I’ve never felt with any other man before.
He shakes his head, still grinning like a fool.
His hand palms my breast, and I’m lost to his touch again. He takes my nipple between his thumb and finger, pinching the tip until I’m on the edge again, all the while continuing to pound into me.
I don’t know how he has such self-control or how he lasts so long without unloading inside me.
And just as I think it, I see the flicker of craze in his eyes, and I know he can’t hold on much longer. He needs to let go. He needs to come.
“Not yet. Not until you’ve come again.” He pauses. “And again.”
There is no way I’m going to come twice more. But with another flick of my nipple, I’m coming at his mercy. My mind is whirling. I can’t think straight. My breath is coming so fast that it’s overwhelming and intense and…fuck, I want to come again.
He stills inside me, just watching me in awe. It gives me a second to catch my breath before he ruins me again.
He kisses my neck.
I shiver.
“One more,” he breathes.
“I can’t,” I whimper.
He smiles smugly. “You have no idea what you’re capable of yet.”
I don’t know what he means by that, but then he’s thrusting inside me, and I can’t think about anything other than him.
I want more. So much more.
In my mind, this was only going to happen tonight. And then maybe a couple of times a month to try and get pregnant if that’s what Lennox wanted. But not more. This wasn’t supposed to become anything real.
Lennox’s eyes match mine—there’s fear in his, same as mine. Fear and realization that this is more than either of us bargained for.
His body rubs against mine until I feel him everywhere, from my head to my toes and deep in my core.
This time he doesn’t have to coax an orgasm from me—I give it willingly, knowing I can’t stop it, just like I can’t stop whatever is happening between us.
I contract hard around his cock, and he loses control. His orgasm spills through his body as he moans into my bare shoulder, his teeth sink into my flesh, making me cry out in delicious ecstasy.
