Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Weird as hell.” Dustin had had plenty of low-vision training—learning how to do basic tasks with low-to-no visibility, but this felt different than all the other times he’d had his vision compromised. His lower back clenched, anticipation gathering in an electric ball that sent sparks up his spine.
“Now...” Wes scooted closer until they were thigh-to-thigh, shoulder-to-shoulder, his warm body a decided contrast to the weirdness of the blindfold. “Open your mouth.”
Dustin complied, relying on Wes’s presence next to him as an anchor for his racing heart. Wes popped a bite of steak into his mouth, and strangely, it tasted different this way. Meatier. Saltier. Something. More intense.
“Again. And guess what this is.” Wes fed him another morsel. Something fruity. Tangy.
“Dried cranberry from the salad,” he guessed.
“Good.”
They continued like that for several more bites, Dustin sinking deeper and deeper into relaxation with each piece of food, and Wes crowding closer and closer until Dustin’s senses were overflowing with the herbal scent of his soap and the rasp of his clothes against Dustin’s bare skin.
“Full?” Wes whispered, and Dustin was surprised to realize that he was.
“Yeah.” His voice sounded strange. More husky than usual.
“Good. Can you stand?” Wes shifted around, then guided Dustin upright and a few steps away from the couch. Hell. Which direction were they moving? Toward the patio? His bedroom? Dustin was all twisted around, when usually he prided himself on keeping a sense of direction at all times.
“Shh. Don’t think. Let me lead.” Behind him, Wes started rubbing his shoulders. “The patio door is shut. Trust me to take care of you, okay?”
“Okay.” Dustin relaxed into Wes’s grip. Fuck, but his strong fingers felt amazing, discovering knots that Dustin hadn’t even been aware of. He was so intent on following the massage that he almost missed it when Wes hooked his fingers in the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down.
“I want you naked before I bind your wrists. You are so fucking hot right now, you know that?” Wes’s voice was full of admiration that made Dustin stand a bit taller. After helping Dustin step free of his shorts, he gently guided his hands behind his back. “Now, ready for the rules?”
“Rules?” Dustin’s brain was foggy with the remnants of his long day mingling with the high of being blindfolded and pampered.
“You’re not going to be able to touch your dick.” Wes deftly bound Dustin’s wrists with the other tie, which was slippery and cool against Dustin’s heated flesh. “And I’m not going to touch it either. But you can come whenever you want, and you can rub against whatever you can reach. And red means stop, same as always.”
“Rub...” Dustin honestly wasn’t sure he could get off that way. Being denied Wes’s hand on his already aching dick made him groan, even as his adrenaline pumped, wanting to know what other dirty plans Wes had.
“Yup. Trust me.” With a firm grip on Dustin’s upper arm, Wes led him a few steps. Toward...
Dustin struggled to make sense of the garbled sensory input for his brain. His thigh hit the slick leather of the couch, but instead of being guided to sit down, he was positioned over the back, which hit him right below groin level. It was an awkward position, bent knees, torso supported by the overstuffed couch, Wes shoving some throw pillows up under him too so that his head wasn’t dangling. Ass firmly on display.
He’d never felt more exposed. Or, weirdly enough, more surrounded. Supported. He was naked and bound, put on show, and yet, power thrummed though him.
“Fuck. Look at you. All for me.” Wes stroked his hand down Dustin’s back. “Look at how gorgeous you are. And strong. So strong, letting me do this, tie you up, strip you down.” Wes’s words washed over Dustin, more potent than a shot of scotch.
“And look at this ass.” Wes squeezed his ass with a hard, almost punishing grip. Was he behind Dustin? Next to him? Dustin tried to lock in on the sensory clues—Wes’s jeans against his bare calves, smoky voice coming from behind him, but...lower?
Then a kiss landed on the middle of his back. Soft and fluttery where he’d been bracing for rough. Something hard, plastic maybe, trailed down his flesh, following the kiss down his spine. “Remember this?” Wes tapped the object against Dustin’s shoulder blade. It was small with defined edges. “Remember the fun we had on cam with this?”
“Oh.” A binder clip. Understanding hit him a moment before Wes reached under him, tweaked his nipple hard.
“Grabbed these from my desk drawer. You’re going to look so hot for me, spread like this, clamps on, nipples throbbing, ass all mine.” Wes’s low chuckle went straight to Dustin’s balls. “Ready?”
Dustin wasn’t, but he groaned his assent anyway, desperate to see what Wes had planned. His careful choreography here did something to Dustin’s insides, made him feel warm and cared for. Wes plucked at Dustin’s nipple, hard pulls that made the sensitive flesh pebble up right before the bite of the clamp against his pec. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”