Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“I was.”
“You need a minute?”
I shake my head. “I need you.” I give the rope a tug, tightening it over her tits. “Trust me?”
“Wyatt,” she pleads, “I’m so close. Please.”
I lean in. Press a gentle kiss to her mouth. “Tell me you trust me.”
I don’t know why I crave the words. Maybe I just crave Sally’s assurance. Her approval. I don’t ask anyone for anything, but this—
This, I need.
Her eyes meet mine. “Of course I trust you. I always have.”
Now is not the time to take a deep dive into what it means that someone as smart and accomplished and honest as Sally Powell trusts me. What it means that she’s putting herself in my hands because she believes I’m capable of taking care of her.
Maybe that means I am capable of taking care of her.
Maybe I need to trust myself as much as Sally trusts me. Maybe I can trust her not to hurt me.
I tie the other end of the rope to the beam that forms the corner of a nearby stall. Now Sally is literally tied up, her arms bound to her sides, the rope drawn taut over the swell of her breasts.
I’m a fool for you, I think as I drink in the sight of her panting, ready, waiting. Not for Beck Wallace. Not for some Yankee douchebag.
For me.
I love the slopes of her belly and the strong yet feminine lines of her back.
Walking around to face her, I adjust the rope so that it’s tight over her nipples.
“Lean forward,” I say. “Just a little one.”
She does, and it pulls the rope tighter against her nipples. She whimpers. The rope slips a little—it’s not very wide—but I move it back in place, brushing my knuckle against her nipple before settling it underneath the rope.
“Oh, Wy, I like that.”
Tucking her hair behind her ear, I take her face in my hand. “Thought you might.”
Then I lean in and kiss her mouth. She rises into the kiss, a little moan erupting in her throat.
I move my mouth down her neck, over her collarbone. I nip at the fullness of her tits, moving my tongue over the rope that has her nipples caught. She fights against it, drawing the rope more taut, and she lets out a hiss.
“That hurt?”
“In the best way, Wyatt.”
The need between my legs twists tighter. I fucking love it when she says my name.
I’m gonna make her do it again, and again, and again.
I fall onto my knees, one leg at a time. I dig my hands into her jeans and panties and pull them down, revealing her sweet little cunt.
The scent of her arousal blooms between us. Holding on to her hips, I lean in and press a kiss to her belly. The wood floor bites into my knees as my mouth works its way south, until I finally place my lips on hers.
“Wyatt.”
I glide my hands down and use my thumbs to open her. I lick inside her slit, my tongue catching on her clit.
“Wyatt.”
“You feel like velvet here.” I deepen my kiss, gathering her clit between my lips. I taste salt and Sally, some kind of sweetness that makes my head spin. “You taste like heaven.”
“You feel like—oh, Wyatt, this feels so good.”
I guide one of my thumbs back and sink it inside her. At the same time, I flatten my tongue and roll it over her clit. Her hips rock in time to my strokes, her legs beginning to tremble.
Looking up, I see her back is arched, her tits straining against the rope. It digs into the soft flesh of her breasts, leaving indents that break my heart and make my dick scream.
Can’t help but smile. She’s a bowstring, literally pulled taut.
I duck my head and eat her pussy with an open mouth and eager tongue. I dip my thumb in, out. I suck on her clit. I nick it with my teeth and soothe it by blowing on it, making Sally yell.
“My God.”
“My name.” I move my hand to her ass. Squeeze it hard. “I like it better when you say my name.”
“Wy, please. Let me—oh God.”
I’m feathering my fingers down the length of the crease between her cheeks. “My fuckin’ name, Sally. Only my name. Say it—now.”
She meets my eyes. She’s breathing hard. “Wyatt. Please, Wyatt.”
Grinning, I flick my tongue over her clit and press my thumb inside her. Eyes locked on hers the whole time.
I know the moment she detonates. Her pussy clamps down on my thumb, and her eyes roll to the back of her head. This time, she shouts my name.
“Wyatt!”
I hold her body in my hands as she comes on my mouth. I watch in awe as she rides out the orgasm, a beautiful, shuddering mess who whimpers my name over and over as her pussy squeezes my thumb.