I manage to croak out a no.
“Good,” he says, and I feel him withdraw just a little, then slam back into me. He said he was going to fuck me hard, and he is, and I’m lifting my hips to meet him, because I want him deeper now, deeper and harder. I want all of him, and, dammit, I want to see him.
“Damien,” I say. “Damien, the blindfold.”
I’m afraid he’s going to ignore me, but then his fingers brush my temple and he pulls it off. He’s above me, his face hard but his eyes showing nothing but pleasure. His mouth curves into a gentle smile, and then he kisses the corner of my mouth. The frenzied fuck slows to a sweet, sensual rhythm that is all the more devastating because he’s drawing it out, making it last. It can last forever as far as I’m concerned.
And then I see the tension building in his body, his muscles tightening, his body stiffening against mine. He closes his eyes and I watch as he arches back, and then I feel the sweet pressure as he explodes inside me.
“Christ, Nikki,” he says as he collapses against me.
I want to press my body against him, but I’m still trapped. “Damien,” I whisper. “Untie me.”
He rolls over and smiles at me, warm and languid. At some point he put on a condom, and he takes it off and drops it in a small trash bin by the bed. Then he moves quickly to undo the drapes. I didn’t get to enjoy watching him strip, but I’m very happy with the view now. He may not have played tennis professionally for years, but the man still has an athlete’s body, long and lean and so damn sexy.
“Come here,” he says roughly once I’m untied. He pulls me close to spoon against him, my back against his chest, my ass against his magnificent cock. His fingers stroke the outside of my thigh, and his lips graze my shoulder. “I liked taking you tied up,” he says. “We may have to try more of that.”
“More?”
“Have you ever heard of Kinbaku?”
“No.”
His hand slides over my thigh to rest on my sex. His fingers stroke my hair lightly. “It’s ropes,” he says. “But they’re for restraint as much as for pleasure.” His fingers ease between my thighs, and I gasp, amazed that I already want him again so desperately. He rubs his finger over my clit and whispers, “It’s all about the placement of the ropes.”
“Oh.” My voice is breathy.
“Would you like that?”
“I—I don’t know.” I swallow. “I liked this,” I admit.
His fingers slide easily inside me and I moan. “Yes,” he says. “I could tell.”
He’s teasing me for being aroused, but I can feel his cock twitching against my rear. He’s getting hard again, and I wriggle my butt a little, hoping to speed up that process.
“My, my, Ms. Fairchild. You are a naughty girl.”
“Very,” I say. “Fuck me again, Mr. Stark.”
He bites my earlobe, just hard enough that I squeal. “On your knees.”
I look back at him. “What?”
“On your knees.”
I obey.
“Spread your legs.”
I do. I’ve never had sex like this—who am I kidding, I’ve never had sex like anything I’ve done with Damien. I feel exposed. And, yeah, I like the feeling.
He is behind me, and he runs his palms over my ass, then bends to kiss my cheek. “Sweet,” he says. He slides his fingers between my legs, stroking my sex, the sensation of his touch beyond delicious.
He brings his hand up, and I feel his thumb at my anus. I bite my lower lip. “No,” I whisper.