What the hell?
I look at him in alarm.
He stares back calmly.
“Allison, you’ve been a caretaker for too long. Tonight, I’m going to take care of you. But I’m afraid that if I don’t restrain you, you’re going to try and focus on taking care of me. Trust me, I’ve got that. Before the night is over, you’re going to scream my name- many times over. But if at any point you want me to stop or you want these handcuffs taken off, then I want you to yell out pineapple.”
I stare at him. “Pineapple? Why?”
“Because it’s something I like to eat,” he shrugs. “Are your handcuffs too tight?”
I wiggle my wrists, testing them. The padding on the metal is thick and comfortable. So I shake my head. “No.”
“Do you trust me?” Shade smiles. His smile is sort of wicked. And I sort of like it. It makes me feel sort of wicked, too.
“Yes,” I answer. I don’t know why, but I do. He wouldn’t have repeat customers if he wasn’t trustworthy, right? I nod for emphasis.
“Good. Is there anything that you absolutely do not want me to do?”
I think on that. Well, I think on that as well as I can with him balanced above me. He’s slightly distracting.
“I don’t think so,” I finally say. “I don’t know of anything that I already know that I hate. If you do something, I’ll tell you. Deal?”
“Deal,” he grins. I’m in love with his grin. I want to find a luxury apartment in SoHo or some equally cool neighborhood and co-habitate with it and have its little grin babies. That’s how much I love it.
Shade palms my ribs with his large hands, the warmth of them erasing the goose-bumps that had formed there. He grasps my sides and pulls me up, arching my back. Staring into my eyes, he bends his head and licks a circle around my belly-button. His tongue is warm and soft. In fact, it’s probably the only soft thing on his entire body. Except for his hair. He has great hair. And why am I thinking about his hair?
He drags his tongue in a trail up my abdomen towards my br**sts, but instead of stopping there like I expected, he continues to my neck. He nuzzles it, then kisses it. Then licks it. Then sucks it. I am moaning by this time. Who knew that the neck was such an erogenous zone? Holy cow.
He moves to my ear and pays the same attention there, then continues to my mouth. By this time, I am ready for his kiss. I want his tongue in me. Anywhere in me. But right now, I’ll settle for his mouth. His mouth crushes mine, in a kiss that is not gentle, but it is certainly consuming. I can’t breathe by the time his tongue is finished exploring mine.
“Do you trust me?” he asks again, staring into my eyes. I feel flushed and hot and disheveled. I nod.
“Yes.”
“Good. I’m going to blindfold you again. And you’re going to like it.”
I nod. “Yes. I think I will.”
Shade laughs, a low chuckle. “I know you will.”
He pulls the blindfold over my eyes and the room goes black. I am instantly remorseful of only one thing. I can no longer stare at Shade. That’s regretful, for sure. I can’t stare at him and I can’t touch him. I’m not so sure about this blindfold business.
Until he starts lapping at my inner right thigh.
My heart pounds in time with his tongue.
“You have exquisite legs,” he says softly. “You must work out.”
I can’t answer because I am busy panting.
I feel so completely dominated right now—blindfolded, handcuffed. And for some reason, it feels liberating too. I’m trusting this person enough to explore this with him. And I might be crazy. But I love it.
But not as much as I’m about to.
His mouth covers my clit, his lips closing around it like a vacuum.
And my h*ps instantly and with a mind of their own, buck against him.
“You like that, little kitten?” he murmurs. And then he starts licking. And then there’s a finger involved, sliding in and out and holy-freaking-damnation. What have I been missing out on for the entire rest of my life prior to this moment?
I am soaking wet now. I can feel the liquid, the moisture, pooling between my legs, but he licks it away; lap, lap, lapping. And I am riding exquisite waves of something awesome. That is the only way to describe it. All of those stupid romance novels that I used to read that described orgasms as riding waves of pleasure? They were so freaking right. And to think that I’d stopped reading them because I thought they were unrealistic.
“You’re so tight, Alli Cat,” Shade whispers, sliding his finger in me. At the same time, he is finessing me with his tongue. And I might seriously die. And I love that he just called me Alli Cat.
“Hold your breath for a minute,” he instructs me. “You’re going to come. And it will make it better.”
I do as he says.
And he’s right. I come in the next moment and holding my breath made it better.
I release a shaky exhale, falling limp against the bed.
And then without warning or any kind of clue whatsoever, other than a brief metallic rustling of foil, Shade is sliding into me. His penis is thick and long and full and I gasp. I wish I could clutch him and hold on, but my arms are still secured to the bed. So I lock my legs around him and pull him as close as I can.
Shade smells heavenly, like fresh air and male and cedar. I inhale him as he rides me. He slides in and out quickly, then he slows down. Then he speeds up. Then he slows down. It’s excruciatingly exquisite.
He freezes, hovering with the tip of his penis at the apex of my thighs.
“Say you like my cock,” he tells me, his voice hot in my ear. The word is so naughty and I’ve honestly never said it out loud. But I don’t hesitate now.
“I like your cock,” I tell him.
“Say you f**king love my cock,” he answers. His breathing is just a bit ragged.
“I f**king love your cock,” I whisper.
He rams into me; hard, harder, harder.
“Scream it,” he instructs raggedly.
So I do. And it feels liberating. I always felt so repressed, so self-conscious with my ex-husband. Screaming obscenities while a beautiful man f**ks me feels amazing. So I do it again. And again. And again.