With a groan, I settle my hips in the V of her thighs and cover her with my weight.
“You want this.” I drive the length of my hard-on along the crotch of her shorts. “Feel it. Imagine it ripping you open.”
I don’t expect her to be scared or overwhelmed. Maybe a little bit hesitant? But she’s not even that. She’s breathless and impatient, trying to work her hands free from my hold to get to me.
“Let me touch you.” She arches her back, rubbing her beautiful tits against my chest. “Come on, Jake. Don’t make me wait.”
She’s going to wait, because that’s what I want. To be in control, push her limits, and bend her to my will—it’s what I crave. But tonight, I’ll disguise my darker desires as sweet, playful teasing.
I slide off her shorts and panties, exposing her nude form in the lantern’s soft glow. Fair skin, perky tits, slender hips, and an auburn triangle that leads to the wet seam of my destination—her flawless body deserves a lifetime of attention.
The scent of her pussy intoxicates the air as I shower her with devotion. My fingers worship. My eyes invade. My mouth devours. By the time I’ve licked her from mouth to slit and back again, she’s writhing, drenched between her legs, and panting with full-body tremors.
With my hands busy, I haven’t been able to stop her from grabbing and pulling at me. She wants to rush this, and I want to command every orchestrated second of it. I know the moment I crawl over her she’ll shove those greedy fingers into my pants and steal my control.
But I have a solution for that, inspired by some taboo videos I sought out online. There’s something undeniably arousing about bondage. It touches me deeply, stirring secret, indecent thoughts like nothing else.
Apparently, some women like to be restrained, and I get serious wood thinking about doing it. I know rope. I know knots. And I know Conor.
Reaching for the last item from the bundle, I lift a coil of rope and unravel it with shaking hands. The thought of her trussed up and defenseless makes me want to blow my load.
“What’re you gonna do with that?” She wings up an auburn eyebrow. “Wrangle me like a cow?”
“Nah.” I jerk my chin at the solid tree trunk near her head. “See that tree? I’m going to tie your hands to it and fuck you till we both pass out.”
I look her in the eyes as she examines my face up and down, side to side. Her gaze is restless, searching. She knows me, loves me, and it’s all there, open and unfiltered, in her flushed cheeks. She glows with arousal. And total, utter trust.
“Give me your hands.” Just issuing the command makes my dick throb.
She holds up her arms, her eye contact as captivating as her obedience.
I lace her wrists together with swift movements. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.” She purses her lips. “I’d love you a whole lot more if you were naked.”
“I’ll give it to you when I’m ready.” I want her so badly I’m damn near punching a hole through my zipper. But I need her to beg for my cock before I pull it out.
Unwinding the rope to the tree, I loop it around the trunk, tighten it, knot it, and give the binding a hard yank. On her back with her arms stretched overhead, her wrists are fettered together against the trunk. She’s not going anywhere.
I edge back, rise to my full height, and stop breathing. Seeing her like this… My God, it’s morally wrong. Unholy as hell. And absurdly, wonderfully right.
Arms bound and thighs spread, she’s all curves and forbidden crevices, flesh and trembling breaths, soft mounds and tight holes.
Blood surges to my cock, and I stroke myself through the jeans. My muscles tense, fighting against the impulse to fall on her like an inexperienced boy.
While I might be inexperienced, I’m not without discipline. I’ve had years to think about this, plan it, and make it good for her. But I wasn’t prepared for this…this feral, liberating reaction to the sight of her naked and tied up. It’s a compelling, possessive sense of power, flexing and stretching inside me like a pair of wings.
“You’re beautiful.” Inadequate words for the image before me.
“Please, Jake.” She plants her feet on the blanket and twists her wrists against the rope. “Stop teasing me. I need you with me. In me. Please, hurry.”
Her begging balances me. My legs move on their own. My knees land between her thighs, and I yank down my zipper, rubbing and stroking my boner while trying to pull it out. Soothing the painful throb, halting the oncoming release, I don’t know what I’m doing beyond the mindless need to fill her.
Her breathing accelerates as I blanket her body with mine. Desperation overrides control. My pulse skyrockets, locking my jaw and pounding my eardrums. I crush my mouth to hers, and the last shreds of my restraint evaporate.
I sweep my tongue past her lips, seeking her depths, craving something I can’t name, aching for the hot wet of her mouth and the clenching grip of her cunt.
“You’re shaking,” she breathes into the kiss.
Mindless happiness vibrates my entire body. My dick’s in my hand, and I’m sliding the head along her slit. She’s bound and nude beneath me. I’m inhaling her sweet breath, seconds from experiencing the squeeze of her pussy. Of course, I’m fucking shaking. I’m hemorrhaging nerves and drunken desire.
With a fumbling hand, I line myself up and find her eyes.
At the edge of my periphery, her tongue touches her lip. Her chest heaves, jiggling her tits. Her thighs quiver around my hips. Oh, the things I want to command her to do…
Finger your cunt. Choke on my cock. Bend over. Ass up. Take it. Beg me.
The space between us narrows and closes. Our lips connect. My cock brushes against her dewy heat. My brain stops working. I’m in a zone. A skin on skin, mouth to mouth, carnal, reckless, crazed animal zone.
Until I hear something.
Movement beyond the trees.
I go still, listening.
Nothing.
Did I imagine it?
The air shifts near the trail, and I jerk my gaze to Barnabe. He doesn’t twitch.
“What is it?” She follows my gaze.
Water babbles through the rocky creek bed, splashing the ravine in noise.
“Thought I heard something.” I return my attention to her warm, wet center.
I only need to push, and I’ll finally be inside her.
A crunching sound drifts from the trail.
Footsteps? I grit my teeth, head tilted, and hold my breath.
Barnabe flicks his tail. His ears. His neck.
He senses something.
My heart rate kicks up.
“A coyote?” Her wide eyes scan the perimeter.
“Shh.” I sit back on my heels and fight the zipper over my erection as my hearing tunes in to the dark.
Silence.
I don’t trust it and drag my abandoned shirt over Conor’s body. It’ll just take me a second to check it out. As I reach for the rope on her wrists, a twig snaps behind me.
She gasps, and I swing around. My gaze collides with my brother’s through the trees.
I jump to my feet and try to block his view of her body. “What the hell are—?”
Jarret stumbles into the clearing, hands clasped on his head, eyes stark, and mouth stuffed with something soft. A bandana? The chilling look on his face screams, Run, run, run!