Page 21 of Just Past Two

Sam slid her fingers into his mouth, his tongue sucking her juices away. Her pussy clenched around nothing. If only that tongue were between her legs.

He released her wrist. “Get to the edge again. Tell me when you’re there.”

She began to rub her clit once more, the arousal beginning to build.

“Do you like being told no?” he asked.

With the hormones surging through her blood, she would admit anything, but it still made her blush. “Yes. I like…oh, God…I like not knowing when you’re going to let me come.”

“Or if.”

Shit. Normally she could read him so well, but he looked blank. Either he had been practicing this dominant act, or she’d just never seen this side of him. Whatever expression was on her face, it made him smile. “Took you by surprise there, hmm?” Reaching out, he rolled one nipple between his fingers, pinching it, sending another jolt into her body before he switched sides and did the same to the other. “I might decide to keep you like this, all strung out and needy.”

“I’m there,” she gasped, the delayed orgasm holding her whole body taut.

“Hands away.”

Pulling away was torture, but she didn’t want it to be easy, did she? That was the worst, and the best, knowing that she wanted to be tortured and he was doing it.

“Again.”

He had her edge three more times, each one coming quicker than the last, and by the last one, she almost went too far and had to consciously relax all her muscles to keep from coming. This was insane. Her whole pussy was slick, her thighs, everything a mess.

Sam smiled thinly. This wasn’t his normal smile. Something dark, something wicked looked out at her, an expression that turned her on and also scared the shit out of her. This man could be a total stranger. Was this all an act? Was he really getting off on this, or was he just putting it on for her benefit, because this was her fantasy?

“Tell me.” He shifted on the bed. “Would you like more of this, or would you like something else?”

What the fuck would something else be? But if he kept edging her, she might go mad, or slip over the edge. “I don’t know.”

He got up and disappeared into the walk-in closet, returning after a moment with a coil of rope. Uncertainty and excitement bubbled up inside Abby, and she started to giggle, trembling on the bed. Sam smiled. “You like this?” He held it up.

Abby nodded, the giggles bordering on the edge of hysterics, and she tried to tamp them down. She’d never reacted like this before. Sam sat beside her again, smoothing her hair back, and leaned in to kiss her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, yes, Sir.” She was more than okay. Her body was a continuous nerve, sensitive and needy.

“Okay. Good.” He pinned both of her arms over her head and began to tie her wrists together. He’d been a Boy Scout; he tied quickly and efficiently, securing her wrists to each other and then to the headboard in a matter of moments. “Try to get away.”

She couldn’t. Pulling against the ropes, she lost her breath in a moment of panic, that sheer animal fear of being trapped. It passed, leaving her gasping and—how was it possible?—more turned on than before.

Sam stepped back from the bed and smiled at her bound form. Then he began to undress, methodical, quick, with businesslike precision. He folded his clothes and left them on the armchair in the corner, the one where he sometimes sat to read, the place where she’d also left her pile of clothes. Then, naked, he climbed into the space between her legs, carefully bending both knees back. Abby sucked in deep breaths, trying to steady herself, rubbing her wrists against the rope because it felt so good not to be able to get away.

Sam kept her knees pushed back and, slowly, nudged her slick entrance with his cock. Please, more, she wanted to beg, but couldn’t find the words, and all the air left her lungs in a single moan as he thrust fully inside her.

He stayed buried all the way inside her, holding her hips, and his eyes fell half closed. “You feel…so tight, on the edge like this. Fuck.” The swear sounded reverent on his lips, his expression a mixture of pleasure and restraint. Finally, he opened his eyes, more composed, and began to thrust.

Abby couldn’t do much but lie there, each thrust opening her up to him. He pressed against her G-spot every time, sending little sparks through her body. He was using her, taking her body for his pleasure, moving harder and faster than she would normally want. Ah, damn, she loved it. She hadn’t expected Sam to love it, too, but his face was a mask of bliss, lips parted, his hips moving like a man possessed. His steady, low exhales shifted to words, absolute filth tumbling out of his mouth.

“Damn, yes, look at you.” He punctuated his words with hard thrusts. “So helpless. You just have to take it. Take what I give you. You can’t get away.”

Abby moaned, shifting as much as she could in this position. Sam was right. She couldn’t get away, and that was the appeal of this, her own helplessness to whatever he wanted to do.

“Maybe I’ll just have someone else come in, huh? Leave you here to get fucked by somebody else. Watch someone else enjoy your tight, sweet pussy. Would you like that?”

“Fuck,” Abby cried, clenching reflexively around him. She’d had those fantasies, the ones she didn’t admit to herself, fantasies of being taken by someone else. Sam might be just talking dirty, but she’d thought about that very thing, thought about it but would never say it out loud.

“Such a good girl,” he groaned, and his fingers went to her clit, rubbing hard and pushing her right to that edge before she could fight it. “Ask me. Ask me to come.”

She wanted it so bad, wanted that mind-melting pleasure, denied for so long. “Please,” she gasped. “Please, may I come?”