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Chapter 8
BRIDGET
Past
I’m not sure how I feel about having my arms pinioned like this, but who the hell cares? When Darren strokes my clit the way he does, all I want to do is let him work his magic. The orgasm is good, though not as explosive as the last time. Every time he tongued or sucked my nipple, a current would zip to the area between my legs. When he had slowed down while talking, I wanted to grind myself into his hand like crazy. I don’t remember exactly what we were talking about, and before the mist of my orgasm has faded enough for me to recall, I’m flipped onto my stomach and my hips pulled to the edge of the bed.
“Don’t move,” Darren says before giving my butt a swat.
I watch him grab a condom from the drawer of his bedside table. Whew. With my arms pinned to my body, I can’t exactly defend myself if he tries to go without protection. Looking back, it probably wasn’t very smart of me to fall into sex so soon without knowing Darren well enough. I let lust get the better of me, and I never thought I would. I’m lucky that Darren isn’t one of those creeps who do that messed-up stealthing shit.
I hear his buckle coming undone, the zipper of his pants, and then the crinkle of the condom wrapper. Just to be sure, I twist my head around to see that the condom is actually on. It is. He pulls his shirt off, and I glimpse his chest, still gorgeously tan.
“You did good, Bridge,” he says as he pulls my underwear and jeans down to my knees.
He slides himself between my legs and sinks into me, filling me with his hardness.
Oh God, that feels good.
He leans over me and murmurs near my ear, “You’re so sexy when you ask to come.”
I blush. That’s right. I did that.
He manages to sink his erection deeper. “Do it again.”
“Ask to come?” I verify.
He starts rolling his hips, making me quiver in anticipation. My body is already up for orgasm #2.
“Ask to come,” he confirms.
“May I come?”
He drives his hips into my backside. “May I come, sir.”
“May I come, sir!”
The words tumble from my mouth before I have time to think. This is part of BDSM, isn’t it?
“Not yet,” he replies.
What the hell? Not yet?
“I asked nicely,” I reply.
He laughs. “I didn’t say you couldn’t. Just hold off a little.”
Like there’s anything he can do to stop me. But if he wants to play this game, I guess I’ll go along because I want that orgasm.
He thrusts with the perfect motion, with finesse, not too fast that I can’t appreciate how good it feels or slow enough to drive me crazy. And the angle of penetration hits that sweet but jarring spot, stroking a delicious urgency. Is he good or just lucky? Doesn’t matter. I groan with need, with pleasure, with gratitude.
“Oh my God,” I mumble against the bed as I feel my climax coming to a crest.
“Not yet.”
“Hmm?”
“I didn’t say you could come yet.”
