AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She slowed her pace on his cock, took a deep breath, and sighed in frustration as he wound his fingers through her hair.
But then he yanked, sudden and hard, and a cry flew out from deep in her chest. Her eyes squeezed shut from the sting, and she sped up her movements.
He yanked again, fast and forceful, and her burning scalp and chafed pussy sent a frenzied wave crashing. Her whole body clenched.
She stayed astride him after she came, stretched full, savoring the contractions and the ache.
The pain was her distraction from guilt. The bondage, if you could call it that—he had tied her hands so loosely and tentatively she could easily have slipped out of the knots—kept her from touching him.
All day, each time she succumbed to the urge to think about their previous night together, what she most remembered was how she had wanted to touch him everywhere.
Restraint and pain, they were her distractions from guilt, her punishment for desire, her self-signed permission slip to fuck another man.
But she had not expected their intoxicating effect.
Nothing like this had ever really turned her on before, at least not what she knew of it from the novelty Valentine’s Day BDSM kit with its scratchy red scarf, fuzzy handcuffs, and mini riding crop Harris had given her one year.
But now it did turn her on, and she wanted it desperately.
Jonathan seemed to sense her frantic need.
He untied her wrists and she climbed off him. Before she could lie down, though, he caught her arms and guided her down so she sat next to him. Kneeling beside her, he wrapped the cool silk around her hands again.
Only this time, he left no space between her wrists and tied a tight double knot.
She was not slipping out of this one.
He laid her down and again threaded the loose ends of the scarf through the headboard.
He looked down her body, his expression one she couldn’t quite read. It was serious and admiring, but there was something in his tightly knit brow.
Maybe now that he’d taken control and bound her in earnest, he was planning what to do next.
Goose bumps rose on her skin.
He got off the bed and walked out of the room, the sound of his footsteps in the hallway moving toward the stairs.
She took a deep breath and exhaled a mix of anxiety and anticipation. She trusted him with her safety, but what if she’d been wrong?
With her hands tied, he could do anything to her.
The thought, and the uncertainty of what would happen when he returned, dissipated into a surprising tingling sensation between her legs.
He came back holding his t-shirt, dropped something else she couldn’t see on the floor by the foot of the bed, and sat on the edge.
Holding the shirt horizontally between both hands, he spun it until it narrowed. He laid it over her eyes and guided her onto her side so he could tie it behind the back of her head. He tugged the fabric down further over her eyes until she couldn’t see out the bottom.
His fingertips softly touched her upper arm, stretched overhead. “This okay?”
She nodded.Yes.
She tracked his movements by sound, by the wisp of his breath grazing her body, by how his weight shifted on the bed. By his radiating heat, by his scent, a trace of plum and leather.
He leaned over her, his breath high on her belly, and brought his mouth to one nipple, the sudden touch of his lips sending a charge through her body.
He did the same with her other breast, just a light touch, as if surveying an unfamiliar landscape. Back to the first, tugging gently, and then not so gently, with his lips and teeth, like he had done earlier with her clit.
He moved between her breasts, pinching one while his mouth lightly tugged and bit the other. Each tweak and nip, a wintertime static shock, an abrupt jolt that ended quickly. Too quickly.
