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I can’t catch my breath, can’tthinkfor how crazy good he makes me feel. A hand lifts to toy with a knee, Max running the pad of his thumb down the inside of my thigh.It seems to take him forever to reach the goal I’m desperate for him to reach, my skin on fire, my breathing shallow and fast. Assured fingers tease through my wet cleft, every movement precise, careful, welcome.
“Are you my girl, Ava? My forever girl?” Two fingers drive into my pussy, the intrusion jolting. But any surprise is quickly lost as he strokes me to a place that feels vast and untouchable. “I think you are,” he says, kissing my throat, my mouth, my breast. “I think you want me to touch you and keep you forever. To make you mine in every way.” He brings me to the brink and leaves me teetering there. It’s maddening, turning me crazed as I desperately reach and search for more. One more pump or sweep of his fingers—anywhere—and I’ll fall. “I think you want me to lock you up in my pretty prison and fuck you for days.”
A spike of alarm tingles in my belly, but his fingers are sending me into a tailspin. The final internal rub has me writhing, offering up my dopamine-drunk body like a gift to a god. Unadulterated pleasure washes through every DNA marker, and all I can do is succumb to its boundless power.
Before I have a chance to suck in breath, I’m twisted onto my front.
“And that’s what I plan on doing,” he husks into my ear, pressing his full weight against my back and thighs. “I’ll keep you full of me.” He guides his cock to my entrance and surges inside in one breathless, powerful move. I scrabble to hold onto the sheet, my entire focus centredright there, fixated on the broad width of him, of the intruding length.
A happy moan gutters over my lips.
Whisper-soft, he grazes a finger over the scar on my back. Panic slithers in as I’m reminded of the horror, of the pain of that buckle.
“You’re mine,” he growls. “This is mine.”
Powerful hips kick into me. Hot breath funnels down my ear. Whispered confessions follow. A hand snakes under my hips, burrowing between my thighs with familiar mastery. He’s ruthless, punishing me with every thrust of his cock, with every strum of his fingers across my greedy clit.
It’s impossible to move. Held immobile, I’m only able to feel and breathe and moan. When I come, it’s with Max’s mouth clamped over the pulse point at my neck. Blood pounds through my head, resonating through every weary limb and limpid bone.
“Oh my god, Max,” I whisper.
His hand retracts, lifting to my scalp where it smooths against my loose hair. Carefully, he wraps it around his fist and pulls. My face lifts off the bed, my neck arcing. I move my hands into a better position to support myself, my scalp tight.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs. “The way your body bends. The way you feel.”
“It’s so deep like this,” I whisper.
Hot lips chase kisses across my shoulder. “You’re at the centre of my thoughts all the time. It’s only right I get to live deep inside of you.”
He adjusts his position. And then he rides me hard, his body weight hammering me into the mattress. There’s no way of moving, of participating. Suspended by my hair and speared by his cock, he takes and takes until I feel familiar stirrings in my lower belly. My pussy flutters, an orgasm gathering. It triggers something in Max who grunts as he drives into me with long, deep strokes. He thickens, his breathing harsh and fast. Fire rages where we join, my muscles contracting. And when we break together, he sends me into a spiralling, frantic descent.
His release is accompanied by a roar, goosebumps scattering over my skin as his fingers dig into my hip. Bruises will bloom, though these are ones I’ll wear happily.
He releases my hair and I lay my cheek to the cool sheet. At my back, the tautness of his body subsides, his weight sinking into my back as he jerks inside me for a final time. He lies on top of me for at least a minute, and I gather my breath and my thoughts.
He’s heavy, but I surrender to his presence, to his feasting lips that never leave my skin. They’re a constant torment on my shoulders and neck, his hand sliding over my breast. He massages one, rolling the hard nipple against his palm until my core hurts, blood pounding through it.
Reaching behind me, I wrap a hand around Max’s head and bring him in for a long, searching kiss. “I want you again.”
A deep sound rumbles in his chest. He rolls me to my back. “As if you need to ask,” he says, securing my top lip between his teeth and pulling. “But that’s good, ‘cos I’m not done getting my fill of you yet. Not until it hurts to breathe, to walk.” He leaves a small love bite above my heart. “Say yes.”
“To what?”
“To me. To this. To everything.”
“Yes,” I whisper, my heart pounding anew. Always yes.
Fluidly, he gets to his feet and moves to the low chest of drawers, sliding one open. I hear them before I see them, a pair of leather cuffs attached by a metal chain. The sound is like ice running through my veins, my body turning rigid. And then, like I’m watching him through a veil, he reaches back into the drawer and selects a tightly bound bundle of red rope.
My reaction is instinctive, and I try not to feel like I have reneged on a promise, even if it was by text. Scooting away, I stammer out, “N-no. I can’t be re-restrained like that.” My hands fly to my ears, trying to block out the rattling sound of a chain that’s on repeat in my brain, tormenting me again and again and again.
Max tosses both items back in the drawer and slams it closed. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
Frozen in fear, trembling, he comes to my side and wraps his arms around me, even though it means I kind of elbow him in the face. His immediate understanding has my heart rate slowing. The tension in my body eases, his familiar smell overriding the panic.
“I . . . I can’t. Not yet.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry.”
