“Yes.”
“Good. I want to take my time with you. Do you want it? What do you want?”
“I want your cock. Please. I want you inside me.”
“Oh, I love hearing that. I love hearing it more from you.”
“Please,” I beg.
“Hmm. Not just yet.”
He takes his time. Holding me around the waist, he tastes my breasts, his rough stubble scratching the sensitive skin. I feel his teeth lightly on my throat, his hot breath on my skin, and then he starts to work my way down. With my legs spread I can only squirm. He presses against me, sliding his body against mine. As he moves lower I buck my hips and grind my mound against his hard belly.
Lower still, he rests his face on my stomach and starts kissing his way down.
Lower, lower, so slowly I can barely tell it’s happening. My sex throbs for him. Finally his lips are hot on my mound and then he takes a slow, loving lick, bottom to top, dragging his tongue hard over my lips.
Oh God.
His mouth is so hot, his tongue is so wet. He slips a finger inside me, then two, and I squirm and buck against the silk holding me to the bed, guiding his fingers inside me as his mouth explores my body. I unfold for him, all my secrets bare to the exquisite, unendurable pleasure wracking my body. More, more.
Suddenly he draws back. Gentle metal clinking, a belt buckle being undone. The whisper of leather on fabric. He backs off the bed. I feel the springs creak in relief from his weight rising as he stands up and drapes his belt over the footboard, then steps out of his jeans, then his boxers.
The blindfold is not perfect. In the bright afternoon light I can see his outline, the perfectly sculpted lines of his body, like a living statue, and his cock. Good God, he’s huge, his rod arched from arousal. I want to get my mouth on him, please him, swallow him.
Quentin crawls over top of me, rising too high to enter me, and lies down, resting his weight on top of mine. His cock throbs against my stomach, trapped between us. He rolls his hips so I can feel it sliding against me, so big.
He wraps his arms around me and I jerk at the silk, trying to hold him as he holds me, and then he presses his lips to mine and kisses me hard, filling my mouth with his tongue and his taste mingled with mine.
I want to hold him, to wrap my arms and legs around him, but the silk tugs at my wrists and ankles. He holds me tighter and slides against me, shifting, and deftly guides himself inside me.
Before I’m even aware it’s happening he fills me completely, sinking himself inside me to the root, and I cry out and twist in his arms.
“Please.” I try to tell him what I want but the only word I can find is ‘please’, “Please please please please.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he growls, and presses his face to my throat.
With agonizing slowness he draws back until I think he’s going to leave me completely and plunges in again, filling me totally once more, then again, a little faster each time. It feels so good. I haven’t been good and fucked in so long.
No, I’ve never been fucked like this.
“I’m going to come in you,” he growls in my ear. “You’re mine. Say it. Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“Give yourself to me, Rose. Completely.”
“I…”
I can’t finish, and I don’t have to. I give myself to him, completely. He thrusts hard inside me, his whole body moving with force that shakes the bed and sends shocks of pleasure radiating through my body. I breathe against him, and it feels like I’m sinking inside him as he rams inside me, drives hard, and starts thrusting quick and fast, buried deep inside.
Oh God. I can’t take it. I squirm against him, and my legs keep jerking, trying to snap around him. I writhe under him, grinding against his body, my muscles tensing in waves as the pleasure radiates through me, unfolds me, slips through my skin so I can’t tell where I stop and he begins.
A sudden explosive shock rips through my body, then another, and I cry out against him, my hips meeting his thrusts in the same sharp rhythm until he pins me down and holds himself inside me. I can feel him throbbing as he explodes deep inside, filling me as my whole body clenches and tightens around him, the raw agony of unbearable pleasure so intense I can’t even cry out, my jaw quivering when I try.
I flop against the bed and he stays there, holding his throbbing cock inside me as he rolls his hips in slow circles, emptying himself.
“Oh God, Quentin,” I purr.
“I have more where that came from,” he growls in my ear.
“I’m going to untie you now, Rose, and I’m going to undo you. Give yourself to me.”
“Yes,” I plead, “I’ll do whatever you want, more. Please.”
13
Quentin