Tied (Tangled, #4)

She opens my belt, the clasp of my pants. She crouches and kisses the happy trail. “And this right here”—her tongue traces the V of my upper pelvis, sculpted lines that show when sweats sit low on my hips—“this is my favorite part.”


My breathing speeds up, and when her tongue goes back to teasing, I can’t help but thrust forward, wanting it so frigging badly to be her I’m thrusting into.

Her mouth, her cunt . . . not choosy at the moment.

She drags my pants down my legs, and because of its proximity to Kate’s mouth, my cock aches. Finally naked, I sit on the bed and crook my finger at Kate. “Come here.”

She stands, and, keeping her bridal heels on, she struts to me. I grasp her hips; she braces one knee on the bed, straddling my waist. My hands move to her face, holding it still, and I kiss her roughly, sucking on her tongue, making her moan.

While I worship her mouth, Kate’s hips gyrate, seeking friction. When she finds it against my dick, I grunt. Moving to her jaw and neck, I scour her skin with my lips and teeth—sucking and nibbling—while my deft fingers unclasp her bra from behind.

When her bra falls down, I lean back for the best view. “Jesus, your tits are beautiful.” I take one in my palm, massaging and kneading, before bringing it to my mouth and suckling greedily.

Kate shouts nonsensical words and clasps my head to her breast. I lave at her nipple, then fall back on the bed, taking her with me. From this position, both of her tits are accessible—I take advantage and alternate between them—kissing and flicking each hard nipple with my tongue.

Full-out panting, Kate rears back and her eyes meet mine. I’m burning up, needing more—I can’t remember ever being this desperate for her.

“Climb up here,” I say. It’s meant to be an order, but it comes out as a plea. “Right fucking here.”

She rises to her knees and slides her panties and garters down and off. The heels follow. Then she crawls up the bed next to me, swings her knee around, and hovers over my insatiable mouth. Taking her hips in my hands, I guide her * down to my face.

She’s so worked up, so hot, I feel the warmth against my lips even before I taste her. But when my tongue sinks inside, my eyes roll to the back of my head.

Her taste—fuck—it gets better every time. I revel in the sensation of being surrounded by her. I think she calls my name, but my heartbeat pulses so loud in my ears, I can’t be sure. While I feast on her, Kate lowers her upper body so it’s flush with my torso.

I feel her warm breath on my cock first. Then the sublime wetness of her mouth encases me—and I swear my heart stops in its tracks.

People who think this is wrong or depraved are out of their mind. If that were true, we wouldn’t fit like this so fucking perfectly. We were made to do this.

My fingers dig into the flesh of her perfect ass. Holding her against me, moving her left and right in an unforgiving rhythm guaranteed to make her come. I want that so much—to feel her, my wife, pulsing around my tongue, writhing against my face.

She’s not slow or teasing with her mouth now. She takes me all the way in, until I feel the back of her throat—then she sucks hard as she slides upward. Over and over, until my legs quake.

We work in tandem, giving and receiving the most salacious pleasure. She hums around me, and the vibrations push me closer to the edge. I feel the tingles in my spine, the tightening of my balls.

But I don’t want to come like this—not yet. I’ll certainly revisit that opportunity later, but this first time, I want to be buried deep inside her when I let go.

With renewed vigor, I find her clit with my tongue. I press against it, suck on it, then thrust inside her—stimulating all her pleasure points. When Kate starts to buck against me, when she loses her focus on my cock and has to take her mouth off it to get in enough air—I know my actions are about to pay off.

“Drew,” she whimpers against my thigh, holding on to my legs, trying to ground herself because she’s about to take flight. I grasp her ass tighter. . . .

She’s there. Falling. Flying. A thousand blissful eruptions coursing through her as she comes on my face and calls my name. Over and over.

Afterward, Kate stills and her harsh breaths tickle my thighs. Taking one last lick, I maneuver her boneless limbs until she’s lying on the bed and I’m above her.

She smiles into my face, looking happy and orgasm-weak. “That was so good . . . the best ever.”

I can only smirk as pure masculine pride wells in my chest. “The best . . . so far.”

She lifts her arms around my neck, her knees bent and resting against my ribs. “Love me, Drew. Make love to me. Please.”

I drag the tip of my cock up and down over her opening, savoring the feel of her hot wetness. “Look at me, Kate.”

She gazes up at me—and I swear it feels like she’s seeing into my soul. I push into her slowly, drawing the action out until our lower stomachs press together.

We’re joined deeply—in every conceivable way.

My head tilts back and I shift my hips, moving in tight, close rotations. “You’re so wet, Kate . . . you feel . . . Christ, it’s unbelievable.”