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He pulled out reluctantly, not wanting this to end but knowing her jaw and throat had to ache.
Yet after he pulled out, she stayed just as he’d left her.Kneeling, arms up, mouth open, tongue slightly extended.
He could make her clean him up—first a washcloth, then he’d make her lick him clean and dry his cock with those tits—but they had other things to do.And most importantly, he wanted to get his hands on her again.
“That was perfect.”He touched her cheek, her flushed lips.“What a good girl to take my cock like that.”
Her lashes fluttered and she turned her face into his palm.“Thank you, Sir.”
“Now it’s time to stand up.”He offered her his hand, but she rose on her own, the same way she had before.
Her hair was rumpled, the robe slightly askew, one breast half covered.He took her wrists, placing them at the small of her back before slipping into the bathroom to clean himself up.When he returned, she was just where he’d left her, hands submissively at her back.
“Nomi.”He waited for her to look at him, keeping his voice hard as he gave the next command.“Strip.”
Chapter9
Nomi cocked a hip as she dropped her shoulders, the robe slithering to the floor.Tareq was leaning against the wall, his hands casually in the pockets of his pants, his eyes skating down her, lingering on her breasts.
He really was a tits guy.
When he pushed off the wall, anticipation slid down her spine like warm honey, heating her blood.
“Ready to answer some questions?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He held out his hand.Unsure what he wanted, she placed her own in his.Tareq squeezed her fingers and led her over to the desk.Nomi frowned, wondering if he was going to ask her to write out her answers to these questions he was about to ask.
“Stay here.”He gave one breast an affectionate squeeze before sliding over to the bed to grab a few pillows.
At that Nomi’s gaze dropped to the floor under the desk.Maybe he’d be the one sitting at the desk and she’d be tucked under the desk answering questions in between sucking his cock.Or having him fuck her mouth again.That had been rough and hard, and there had been those few moments where she couldn’t breathe thanks to his cock down her throat.
She’d loved it.Loved it in a way she never had before.
The temptation to start analyzing was there.Had she enjoyed having her mouth used and fucked because of the way he’d done it?Because of the level of submission he’d brought her to?Because she trusted him in a way she hadn’t trusted others before?
And why did she trust him, given the shortness of their acquaintance and the fact that this whole thing was a forced proximity trope.
She shut down the mental analysis and watched as Tareq propped two pillows on the desk, leaning them against the wall.Next, he lifted down the framed picture mounted above the desk.The frame was thick—deep, not wide, so the picture itself was several inches off the wall.The reason for that was apparent when he took it down.The frame was actually a shallow box, covering a set of black metal O-rings mounted into the wall.
He set the picture aside, then reached into a drawer.Was this the same drawer where he’d kept the rimming dildo?She craned her neck, catching a glimpse of a tangle of black and a few brightly colored toys, but didn’t get a chance to really identify anything before he closed the drawer.
Tareq spilled a pile of black leather cuffs and straps onto the corner of the desk.
“Wrists.”
Nomi held out her arms, turned so her palms were up.Tareq bent to kiss the pulse point on the inside of each wrist before applying the cuffs.They were thick and padded, but not suspension cuffs because they didn’t have safety breakaway mechanisms.He carefully bound her wrists, adjusting the orientation so that the metal D ring built into the cuff was on the outside of each wrist.
He tested the tightness, slipping two fingers under the cuff—it was a snug fit, because his hands were big, his fingers thick.She eyed his hands and her pussy clenched.She wanted to feel his fingers inside her.Fucking her, twisting.He’d start with one, then two.Three fingers would stretch her open.Make her ache.
His hands gripped her waist, bringing her back to the moment.He shifted her around until her back was to the desk.When the edge pressed into her butt, right at her sit spot, Nomi hissed.
“Still tender?”
“Yes, shockingly I’m still tender since it’s only been a couple hours since you spanked the crap out of me.”Nomi spoke without thinking, but it wasn’t meant as backtalk or sass.She spoke with wry, dry humor.
But her gaze cut to him, her body tensing for the reprimand.
