“What’s wrong?” I ask against his mouth.
“Tired of getting poked by your belt.”
Oh shit. The spikes. I completely forgot about them.
“Sorry.”
I have to move away from his mouth to rotate the belt until I find the clasp, but Troy is intent on distracting me. His mouth strays to my neck, peppering my skin with delicious open-mouthed kisses that leave me panting like I’ve just run a marathon.
I finally locate the damn clasp and manage to pull my belt off just in time before Troy rolls over me again and nestles between my legs. His erection pushes against me through our layers of clothing, and now I want nothing more than to see them gone. I reach for the back of his shirt and yank the fabric until he finally decides to cooperate. He leans back, sitting on the balls of his feet, and finishes the job, pulling the T-shirt off fast like a ninja and mussing his hair in the process. The sexy look combined with the lust in his eyes makes my clit throb so hard that if he wasn’t blocking access, I’d take care of the problem myself.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he says.
I know I should say thank you, or at least return the compliment, but I’m suddenly consumed with a voracious need that can only be satiated by Troy on top of me, fulfilling the promise he made earlier before we left for the party. I want him inside me, pounding into me so hard that I leave an imprint on the mattress.
“Yeah, yeah, clothes off.” I reach for his jeans’ button and then the zipper. But I can’t do more while he’s sitting in that position, watching me with a Cheshire cat smile. “Troy, help here.”
“What’s the matter, babe? Are you in a hurry?”
“Yes,” I hiss. “Don’t tell me you aren’t. These past few days have been torture.”
“Oh, but the torture is only about to begin, sweetheart.”
He jumps off me—finally—and removes his jeans and boxers. I forget about his ominous comment in an instant at the sight of all his naked glory. Damn it, he looks like a golden Greek god. Every. Single. Part. Of. Him. I could spend all eternity staring at him and never get my fill.
He returns to the mattress and runs his fingers over one of my boots. “You know, I think we should keep these on.” He continues his exploration, and now his fingers are running over my skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.
I open my mouth to protest, but he silences me by pressing his index finger over my lips. Undeterred, I grab his wrist and suck that offending finger into my mouth. Troy hisses, narrowing his eyes. If he wants to torture me, well, two can play that game.
With his free hand, he lifts my skirt and pauses, his eyes widening a fraction.
That’s right, babe. I dressed to kill tonight. I knew he would try to get a peek under my skirt, and I was hoping the little black lingerie number would bring him to his knees. I couldn’t have foreseen that I’d be the one gladly losing the battle.
I’m his endgame.
Those were the words that obliterated the barriers I had erected around my heart. The memory of his confession makes my chest warm. My heart seems to overflow with emotion. Is Troy my endgame? As I take him in, I’m blasted with a mix of pure joy and euphoria that makes my entire body tingle. When I look into his eyes, something clicks into place. I feel light and whole, and I never want this feeling to go away.
I let go of his finger with a soft pop, and that seems to unfreeze him from his lustful daze. He rubs a rough thumb over my swollen lips, then reaches for both sides of my panties, curling his fingers around the fabric. He rolls them painfully slow down my legs, and now I get his meaning that the torture is just beginning. How can he stand this when I know he’s about to blow?
I lower my eyes to his erection, and it’s almost like it’s daring me to touch it. I move toward it, but Troy captures my arm and lifts it above my head, then does the same with my other one, and finally, the meaning of his words penetrates my brain. He uses my panties to bind my wrists together and secure them to the headboard.
“Troy, what are you doing?”
His lips curl up. “You surrendered. Now I must make you pay.”
There goes my clit, throbbing again in anticipation. I have no idea what Troy plans to do now that I’m immobile, but whatever it is, I know it’s going to be earth-shattering.
His eyes drop to my exposed sex, and he licks his lower lip. “As much as I want to taste you, I’m hanging by a thread here.”
He reaches over to the nightstand and pulls a condom packet from the drawer. I follow his every move while I try to break my hands free.
“Don’t even try, babe. You lost the war. Now you’re at my mercy.”
“Is that so?” My voice is husky.
Troy doesn’t reply as he finishes rolling the condom down his length. Still silent, he spreads my legs farther apart and then lifts one of them over his good shoulder before lowering his body to mine. The tip of his erection rubs against my entrance, making both of us moan.
He rests his forehead against mine and lets out a shaky breath. “Hell, whose idea was it to go without sex for so long?”
“Probably yours.” I laugh, but in fact, I don’t know anymore.
And when he pushes inside, sheathing himself in me, there’s no chance I can remember. My brain takes a vacation, and all I can process is the intense pleasure that’s making my body go haywire.
I forget that I’m bound and jerk my arms forward, needing to touch Troy as well. Frustration seeps into me when I can’t. “Ugh, this is so un—”
Troy crushes his mouth over mine, cutting off my tirade at the same time that he plunges into me fully. He swallows my moans, taking control of the kiss, of the pace, of everything. Pulling back slowly he then slams into me again. He tries to keep the rhythm steady, but after a few more pumps, his movements become frantic, out of control. I can feel the pleasure building below, and I want to do something—grab on to his shoulders, sink my nails in his back. I’m miserable that I can’t do any of those things, and yet I can’t deny that being bound while Troy fucks me is the most erotic thing I’ve ever done.
He abandons my lips for a moment to kiss my neck and my shoulders.
I arch my back and beg, “Troy, please. Let me touch you.”
“No,” he replies gruffly.
As I near climax, I bring my legs closer together, even though one is secured over Troy’s shoulder. He grunts again, louder, and then, taking a cue from my playbook, he bites me. Pain and pleasure mix, sending me spiraling over the edge. I cry out, uncaring how loud I am. He pumps into me faster, almost in a frenzy. It’s not much longer until he finds his release. His body shudders on top of me, slowing down. Breathing hard, he hides his face in the crook of my neck, blowing hot air against my already burning skin.
I move my leg, sliding it off his shoulder. It falls numb on the mattress, but everything else in my body is alive.
35
TROY
I can’t move. My right shoulder is burning, but fuck it, it was totally worth it. This was the hottest sex move I’ve ever pulled with anyone. Beneath me, Charlie’s breathing is out of whack, just like mine.
“Troy?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you still alive?”