“I want you,” he said. “I need you.”
“I know.” I tightened my arms around him, clutching him tight, wanting more of his kisses, deeper and hotter. “I need you, too.”
“I was afraid, you know. For a moment I was afraid that I’d fucked up beyond repair. That I’d lost you.”
“Never,” I said, and my voice trembled with the truth of it.
Slowly, he peeled off the sports bra, then took my breast in his mouth, one and then the other, suckling each until I felt those sparking threads of sensation shoot all the way from my breasts to my sex. I arched up, wanting more. More of him. Of his touch, of everything.
“Sit up,” he said. “And scoot back.”
I did, and ended up sitting upright against a pillow that Tyler had placed against the wrought-iron headboard.
“Cross your wrists around one of the bars,” he said.
I hesitated. I’d imagined he’d tie me down, arms out to the side.
“It’s okay,” he said, as if understanding my hesitation. “You’ll like it. We both will.”
I nodded, then complied. I breathed deep, as if that would keep the ghosts at bay.
“Are you doing okay?” Tyler asked once my hands were secured behind me.
“Yeah,” I said, surprised by the truth of the words. I tilted my head up for a kiss. “So far, I’m doing fine. More than fine,” I added, because the truth was I was getting excited. Knowing I was going to be bound. Taken. Knowing that I was about to surrender totally, to submit completely.
I should be terrified. Should be writhing in a desperate attempt to get free.
Should be kicking Tyler in the balls.
But I wasn’t. Just the opposite. Instead, I was looking forward to what came next with potent anticipation. And all because I trusted this man.
He turned away from me, then opened a drawer at the bottom of the dresser. When he came back, he held two coils of red rope.
I frowned. “I’m not sure if I should be glad you’re experienced at this or irritated that I’m not the first woman you’ve done this to.”
He sat beside me, then kissed me gently while his fingers played with my breasts. It was an intimate, casual moment, and reminded me again that right now, more than before, I was truly his to do with as he wished.
“You are the first,” he said, his voice low and full of meaning. “The first. And the only.”
“Tyler—”
“I know,” he said. “I know it can’t last. You’ve made it clear, and I get it. But that doesn’t change the truth. I love you, Sloane,” he said as he eased my leggings off. “And that will never change. Now,” he said, with a quick change in tone. “Bring your knees to your chest.”
I bit my lower lip, but complied. Then I held my breath as he wrapped the cord around my left leg just below my knee, effectively binding my calf to my thigh. Then he took the loose end of the cord and tied it to the post beside my hand, pulling it taut to take up the slack, and in that way holding my leg up, knee at my chest, my sex completely exposed.
He ran his fingers over me. “Your cunt is so wet, Sloane. I think you’ve been thinking naughty thoughts.”
“Very,” I said.
“Like what?”
“That I like this,” I whispered, as he sank three fingers deep inside me. “That I like being at your mercy,” I said, forcing the words out past a moan of deep pleasure. “That I like knowing that I’m yours. And not knowing what’s coming.”
“Good. Very good,” he said, then repeated the process with the other leg. “Nice,” he said, when he’d completed the task. “Now close your eyes.”
I did, then jumped as he took hold of my knees, lifted me just a little, and spanked my ass.
“Not the best position for that,” he said. “But I recall the lady liked the sensation. I wonder how far she’d like to go.”
“Very far,” I murmured. “All the way,” I said, and he chuckled.
“All the way it is,” and then I felt the smack of his hand again—not on my ass, but on my sex. I cried out, the sensation unfamiliar and strange, and yet arousing, too. And when he did it again, the sting lingered, making my clit so sensitive that I thought a single burst of air might make me come.
“So sweet,” he murmured, and I opened my eyes to see his mouth close intimately over me, and just the sight of him, laving me like that, made my body quiver with the need to draw him in.
Tyler complied, first with his tongue—thrusting it so deep I arched up, at least as much as the restraints allowed, and then bucked against him, in silent demand for more.
He gave me that more, his mouth sliding up to my breast as his hand teased and tormented my sex, sending waves of sensation swarming through me. I wanted to writhe, to move, but the minuscule amount of movement I was allowed did little to deflect the onslaught, and I was overwhelmed by the sensations, certain I was about to burst.
“I’m close,” I said. “Oh, god, Tyler, I want you inside me. Please, I want to feel you in me when I come.”
He stripped quickly, then knelt between my legs. He lifted me up just slightly with one hand as he took his cock in the other and positioned it against me.
“Yes,” I said, the pleasure so acute I almost came at that moment. Then Tyler held my legs for leverage and thrust inside me. “Watch,” he said. “Don’t close your eyes.”
I did, mesmerized by the way he thrust in and out of my body. Torn apart when I watched him take one hand off my leg so that he could tease my clit, sending me spiraling even higher.
“You’re close,” he said. “I can feel how tight you are. How close you are. Come on, baby. Come on, and let’s go over together.”
I listened to the sound of his voice, as if it could carry me all the way.
“Now, Sloane, now,” he cried, and I exploded with him, my body reaching out for the heavens even though I was so thoroughly tied down to the bed.
The shudders ripped through me for what seemed like forever, and Tyler left me like that, his fingers slowly stroking me as if to draw out every last bit of pleasure.
“Stay with me,” he murmured, as he touched me so intimately. “Don’t go back to Indiana.” He stroked my cheek, kissed my lips, teased my sex. “Stay.”
I closed my eyes, wishing things were different. “I want to. Tyler, you have to know that I want to. But I can’t. I’m a cop. I can’t give it up. It’s part of who I am. You know that.”