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The knife is gone, clattering to the floor.
I’m panting like I just ran a mile, still processing that he didn’t kill me. I laugh from the near-death experience I didn’t just have. But when I look over my shoulder at him and see his attention so focused on my naked bottom, his pupils dilated, the laughter lodges in my throat.
Slowly, he lifts his gaze to meet mine. Taking hold my ponytail, he forces my head to the side, exposing my neck. He leans in and bites me there as he presses himself against my ass.
He nips and kisses the soft skin as he brings his palm down my ribs and lower, until he reaches the top of my crack.
“Do you want to know why I’ve been leaving work early so much? It’s because I can’t stop thinking about this.” He moves his hand over my anus and cups my mound. “Knowing this is here, waiting for me, has me hard as a fucking rock. Do you think it’s appropriate for me to meet with anyone when my cock is straining in my pants, Miss Burrows?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“No.” Unlike the roughness of his bites, his caresses on my slit are gentle. Reverently petting the labia. “You’re so soft.”
A moan escapes me, something of a whimper actually, when he stops. I gasp in surprise when he crouches behind me, bringing his mouth to my exposed parts.
“What are you doing?” I try to turn to him, but the ropes binding me dig brutally into my wrists, and all I can do is helplessly… feel.
“What I’ve been dying to do all day.”
He licks me first, from clit to anus and back. Then he falls into a rhythm, alternating between drawing circles with his tongue on my nub and lapping up the juices from my entrance. He brings me to the brink of coming, but stops just before I explode, making me cry out in frustration.
All the while, his thumb pulsates against my tight hole, increasing in pressure with every push, until I feel him easily slip in.
I’m not someone who has ever even considered anal sex. But there’s something about the way he’s touching me, stimulating both my pussy and asshole, that makes this incredibly erotic. I’m so aroused and wet and desperate to come, I cry out, “Please!”
“Not yet,” he says against my cheek before slapping it so hard it leaves a stinging heat that has me panting.
He stands but doesn’t stop touching me, torturing me. His fingers are everywhere it seems like, all at once. Yet it’s not enough, so I squirm in an effort to get more contact, more friction.
I hear his zipper, then feel the silken hardness of him replace his hand and it sends a delicious ache through my core.
“Yes,” I sigh. Yes, yes. This is what I want. What I need.
His shaft slides between my folds, gathering wetness. The blunt head pushes against my cunt, and I lift my ass in invitation. Now. Do it now. Push it inside me. I need it.
Gavin seems to enjoy tormenting me, because he only gives me the tip. It’s not until I’m close to begging, my wrists and ankles raw from the contestant pull at my restraints, that he gives me what I want.
He rams into me in one powerful thrust at the same time that he easily slides his fingers back into my tight hole. I gasp at the fullness of it, how he stretches me, fills me to capacity. There’s a dull sort of pain as he pulls out and punches forward again, his pelvis slapping against my ass, his fingers mimicking the motion. But the pain only increases the pleasure and desire for release.
In and out, fast and slow. I’m on the verge, barely hanging on to sanity. Then it hits me, this all-consuming cataclysm of an orgasm that I’m sure will leave nothing but a bumbling mess and I don’t care. I want it anyway. And he must sense it because he intensifies his thrusts until he’s swelling inside me.
“Fuck!” Even after he stops, his cock pulses, and I imagine he’s still spurting.
The very idea has me screwing my eyes shut as I roll once again into another orgasm, this one sharp and quick, but just as good as the first.
His hand on the back of my neck, he holds me steady as he pulls out of me. Wetness, lots of it, spills from my slit and drips onto the floor.
“You are so perfect, Miss Burrows,” he croons.
I drop my cheek onto the back of the chair and wait for my racing heart to slow. He adjusts his pants, then crouches nearby and picks up the knife.
This time, when he comes to me I’m unafraid. He slips the sharp blade between my wrists and cuts the rope. I remain in place after he does the same to my feet.
Gavin leans against the countertop and watches me with hooded eyes and a smirk. “Are you staying like that for your benefit, or mine?”
“How does it benefit you?”
He grins. “I like the way you look. If you stay that way, I’ll fuck you again the second I recover.”
