Forbidden Nights (Seductive Nights #5)(20)
Author: Lauren Blakely

Next was the weight of his body on hers, his soft voice in her ear, him whispering, “I never ever want to do something to you that you don’t like. Do you understand that?”

“Yes.”

“You should only feel pleasure with me. You should never feel anything less than desire,” he said, and he was Nate now, the man she trusted inside and out.

The next thing she knew the blindfold was falling loose, dropping to her nose, giving her sight again. There he was, raised on his arms above her, and smelling like sex.

Tonight. God, she hoped he’d take her tonight. Reaching behind her head, he untied the blindfold all the way, then brought it to her wrists, wrapping it around them in a circle, and binding them together in a tight knot.

“I’m going to undress you now.”

He laced his hands around her back, unhooked her bra, and freed her breasts. Then he unsnapped her skirt, tugged it down her hips, to her knees, and over her ankles, laying it neatly on the couch.

His eyes roamed her body, drinking her in from head to toe.

“The panties must go,” he said, a clear command, now back into character.

She held up her bound wrists as if to say you’re going to need to be the one to take them off.

In one swift move, his hands were on her hips, practically tearing them off, like a hungry, greedy man eager for the prize.

He stood and stepped away from her. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I want to watch you spread your legs for me. Do it nice and slow. Like a tease. Make me so fucking hard, harder than I already am, from the way you open your legs.”

She breathed in deeply, letting the air spread all this electric fire to the far corners of her body. She was tingling everywhere, burning up across every square inch of skin. That burn narrowed between her legs, where it became an exquisite ache to be filled. Slowly, intending to torture him, she raised one knee, watching him as he dropped his hand to his crotch, stroking himself through his pants. She took her sweet time letting that knee fall to the side of the couch. He groaned, a rough and hungry sound. She lifted the other knee inch by inch, spreading for him.

Now it was his turn to strip and she never took her eyes away from him, not as he yanked off the tie, undid his buttons, stripped off his shirt, or as he skimmed down his pants.

There was no artful tease. No stage moves or strip show timing. He was a man in need. A man who was finally going to fuck her.

He climbed over her and straddled her waist, his knees gripping her, his rock-hard cock hitting the soft flesh of her belly, the blunt head nudging the silk fabric that held her hands in place. She wondered briefly where the condom was. He was down to his birthday suit, after all. She didn’t really see where he could be hiding it. And she didn’t intend to let him ride her bareback.

“Nate? Do you have a—”

He cut her off. “Lift your wrists above your breasts. Lift them up here,” he said, tapping her cleavage, “So you can squeeze your tits together.”

She did as instructed, her clasped hands scrunched by the side of her face, as her elbows squeezed her breasts.

He dipped his hand between her legs, and she cried out. At last, he was touching her. She needed it so badly, needed him. He slid his fingers between her slick heat, up, down, up, down, building speed.

Suddenly, he stopped, and his fingers were on her breasts, sliding the wetness across her cleavage.

Holy shit. It hit her fully what he was about to do. He must have seen the moment of recognition in her eyes.

“You wanted me to come, didn’t you?“

She bit her lip, nodding.

“You still want me to?”

“Yes. God, yes.”

“Good. Because I’m fucking dying to,” he said, and thrust his hard cock between the tunnel of her breasts. His eyes closed in pleasure, his lips fell open, and he pumped. He fucked her breasts as her bound wrists held them in place, his dick sliding between the slickness he’d used to pave the way.

She watched, mesmerized as he moved on her, her mouth watering with each upstroke, each view of the shaft that she wanted to suck. She licked her lips.

“You want to suck me off, don’t you?” he said roughly.

“Yes.”

“You want me to be fucking your pretty little mouth right now?”

“Yes. God yes,” she said.

Another stroke. Another pump. “You want to taste me coming?”

“Yes, please.”

“I want that too,” he said, panting as he thrust harder, faster. His jaw twitched. His breathing grew erratic. “But right now, I am in motherfucking love with your perfect tits, and I don’t want to be anyplace else.”

“Then fuck me harder,” she said, her voice strong, guiding him on. She wasn’t going to just lie here. She was going to have some fun too. She was going to be the woman she loved being. Dirty and direct.

“You like that, don’t you?” he said, his lips curving in a grin as he thrust.

“I do. I do like it.”

“You like talking back. You like telling me how much you want my cock. You’ve been dying for it,” he said, as his hips began rocking faster, like a jackhammer.

“I love your dick, Nate. It’s a work of art. I want to see you come on me,” she said, her body heating to supernova levels as she urged him on. He stopped talking, and let her do the work. Gripping her breasts tighter, she guided him home. “Give it to me now,” she said, like a command. “Give it to me all over my body. I want to feel you come on my tits.”

“Oh fuck, Casey,” he shouted, groaning loudly as he released himself between her breasts, the warmth spreading up to her neck. He drew a deep exhalation, his arms shaking, his whole face contorted with pleasure.

So fucking beautiful and dirty at the same time. She loved every second of watching him come.

He moved off her and walked to the bathroom to grab some tissues. When he rejoined her, he wiped the evidence of his orgasm from between her breasts. He brought the tissue to the trashcan, then returned to her once more and untied her wrists. She reached for him, eager to draw him near, wanting more from him.

“Will you please?”

He shook his head. “Show me.”

“Show you what?”

“Show me how you touch yourself. If I left right now, I know you’d masturbate. I want to watch you get yourself off.”

Pressing a hand on each knee, he gently guided her legs open for him.

“Look at you,” he said, licking his lips as he stared greedily at her center, his strong chest rising and falling. He seemed to breathe her in. “So wet. So pretty. So pink. I want to see you run your fingers through that pretty, pink pussy.”