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He carries me to the doorway of my bedroom, then hesitates in the entrance, glancing past me. “Red sheets. It’s almost like you planned on having a sexy encounter in here sometime soon…”
I laugh, and feel my face flush again, this time with regular embarrassment. “I… Forgot I had those on.”
He casts me a sideways smirk.
“It’s my favorite color!” I protest. “I just like it is all.”
“I like it too.” In response, he steps across the threshold, and tosses me onto the bed without warning, so hard that I bounce a little, laughing as he steps up to the bed, gazing down at me. “The color suits you. You look good on it.” His gaze roams across my body, naked and exposed before him. “Though you’ll look even better spread-eagled across it.”
My laughter turns a little breathy, my flushed face getting even hotter as he kneels beside me and leans down to kiss me softly, slowly. “Zayne…” I murmur. Then I lift my eyes to his, smiling, because a sudden idea took hold of me. “It’s my turn,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow, still smiling, but questioning. “Your turn to what, exactly?”
“To spread-eagle you.” With that, I push myself up to a sitting position, then flip around to kneel next to him. He lets me push him over easily, even though of course, he could overpower me if he wanted. There’s something sexy about that, about the confident way he’s willing to let me take control when I want to. He doesn’t have anything to prove—he just wants me to enjoy myself however I want. And right now, I want to do to him what he just did to me.
I spread his legs wide, then position his hands over his head. After a moment’s consideration, I grab the edges of the my sultry red sheets—silk, no less, because I love the way it feels against my skin, cool and soothing and smooth as hell. I wrap each corner around the bedposts, then use them to tie Zayne’s wrists to the bed frame. He smirks at me. I know it’s just a loose knot—he could slip it anytime he wanted. But he lets me do it, and to judge by the stiff cock standing erect in his boxers in front of me, he’s enjoying this too.
I bind his ankles too, the same way, not very tight, and he could easily slip the knot if he wanted.
“I hope you know turnabout is fair play,” he comments while I work. “The next time I’m back here, I’m going to have to tie you up nice and tight for this. Maybe even give you a spanking, too.” His gaze drops to my ass, and I shiver at the thought of him doing this to me. Tying me up, leaving me vulnerable and exposed before him. Having his way with me.
My pussy clenches just thinking about it. “Promises, promises,” I tell him, a playful sparkle in my eye as I wink and finish tying off his right ankle. “But first, it’s my turn.”
Now that he’s bound, I reach up to trace my hands over his sides. Let him have a taste of his own medicine—see how it feels when I touch him like this, slowly, torturously, not touching his sensitive spots, not yet. I trace his muscles, every inch of his hard abs and the flat plane of his stomach. I lean down to feather kisses along the carved V that points straight to his cock. I flick my tongue into his navel, loving the salty-sweet taste of him, and the way he inhales sharply, trying to hide his pleasure. He can’t though, not when I have him like this, naked before me. He can’t hide anything from me here.
“Zayne…” I catch his eye again. Begin to inch his boxers down his legs. “Have you done this before?”
“What, been tied up?” His eyes catch mine with a mischievous glint. “Once or twice, I have to admit.”
I laugh. Then shake my head. “Have you ever felt so… hungry for somebody before?” I trace my hands along his sides, down to his upper thighs. I pull his boxers further down, far enough that his cock springs free, standing tall at attention, curved upwards so the tip almost touches his navel. “You just made me come, and it was great, fantastic, but I…” I graze his cock with my fingertip, barely a touch, just enough to make him jump as his muscles clench in reply. “I already want more.”
He swallows so hard it’s audible, and gazes up at me with sincerity. “I know exactly what you mean, Clove. I never knew it was possible to feel this hungry. Every minute of the day, I think about you, about all the things I want to do to you, all the ways I want to enjoy your body. I’ve been hard practically since the night we first spoke…”
I touch his cock again, still lightly, barely touching him between my fingertips. I stroke them up and down his length, hardly touching him, but he’s so turned on already that it makes his hips twist against the bed, his eyes hot where they catch mine. “I know how you feel,” I murmur. “I feel like I’ve spent the entire weekend wet, red-hot, ready to jump you any second you’ll let me.”
“Which is any second you want,” he points out.
“What is this? Why do we feel this so quickly?” I murmur, my voice dropping lower.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “But whatever it is, I don’t want it to stop. I want you, Clove. I want to be with you. When you showed up downstairs with that… that…” His face twists into an ugly expression, a scowl. “That fucking disrespectful asshole who followed you home. I wanted to tear his throat out for touching you. For trying to use you.”
I lean down to feather a kiss along his jaw, but he turns his head and catches my lips with his, kisses me hard and deep. “Nobody else touches me,” I promise as I draw back, just far enough to meet his eyes. “Nobody but you.”
He smiles, a soul-deep smile that catches my eyes, sets me on fire. “Because you’re mine, Clove. And I’m yours.”
“Mine to do with as I wish,” I point out, spreading my fingers wide and wrapping my hand around his cock in earnest this time, clutching him tight enough to feel his velvet-smooth skin under my fingertips, and the hard steel of his shaft beneath.
“And what do you wish to do to me, Clove?” Zayne’s eyebrows rise, those blue eyes of his fixed on mine, all heat underneath and ice on top, like he could burn and chill me all at once. He does, in fact, quite frequently.
I tighten my grip on his cock and begin to slide my hand up and down his shaft, my own smile widening. “I want to make you come so hard you forget your own name,” I murmur.
He smirks and tilts his body, curving his hips up toward my hand to give me easier access to him. “If anybody can make me lose control, Clove, it’s you.”
I don’t need more invitation than that. It’s already hard enough to resist the sight of his thick, swollen cock, and the scent of sweat and sex that hangs heavy in the room. His scent drives me mad—I never much thought about hormones before, but now I realize how real they are, how crazy the scent of his makes me. I lean down to kiss around the base of his cock, letting his shaft brush against my cheek, my forehead, my hair, as I circle him. His cock jumps again, the muscles tensed, out of his control now. Just the way I like.
I duck my head between his thighs to lick his balls, one at a time. He tastes amazing, hot and heady with a touch of salt, and an underlying flavor that’s all him, more addictive than anything I’ve ever tasted before. I suck one of his balls between my lips, close my lips around him and roll it along my tongue. He moans faintly, just a soft sound, one he’s clearly trying to suppress. He won’t be able to for long, if I have anything to say about it.
“Fuck, Clove,” he murmurs as I release that ball and lap at the other one, flick my tongue across him, then dig it against the sensitive spot right between his balls and his cock. His cock jumps again, and I catch it in a tight fist, start to stroke him again while I continue licking around his base. I close my lips around the side of his shaft, suck hard enough to leave a little mark, hard enough to make his hips jerk once more, and then I move on, rolling my tongue around him as I inch up his length.
