“I’m good, Brandon. I promise,” I told him, leaning into the broad, muscular expanse of his chest. I kissed the naked skin of his chest because it was there, and because I could. His arms came around me and hugged me tightly to him. I could feel the hard length of him pressed against my stomach and my hand came up of its own volition, tracing my fingers over his hard stomach until I pushed between our bodies and encircled the hot thickness with my hand.

He sucked in a breath and released it on a whoosh before he pulled away, gently berating me. “Uh, uh, uh…all in good time. This is my surprise, right?”

I nodded.

“And we’re playing by my rules?”

I nodded again.

“Then no touching. I’m gonna cuff you again, okay?”

I nodded once more.

I felt his lips lightly kiss each of my eyes through the blindfold, then touch briefly on the tip of my nose, before placing a gently kiss to my upturned lips. He grabbed me by the waist again and picked me up, tossing me carefully onto the bed. I rolled automatically, presenting him with my arms behind my back so he could hook the cuffs together again, but he only laughed under his breath and rolled me back over. “Stay still.”

He left the bed for a moment and I heard him rummaging through the drawer of my dresser, then a metallic clink. Then he was back on the bed with me and I heard the clicking noises of handcuffs being attached to the slatted bedframe behind me on either side. Once he’d done that, he took each of my arms and attached the little hooks to the chain of the handcuffs, I would assume, because the hooks weren’t large enough to go round the slats.

That done, he traced his fingertips down each of my arms, leaving me gasping and squirming and finally, protesting and laughing when he got to my ticklish spots.

“Brandon, no!” I shouted shrilly, my voice still shaking with laughter.

I heard him chuckle and then murmur against my skin, “Okay, okay…I won’t.” His lips touched mine sweetly and things turned serious again when mine parted and allowed his tongue to sweep inside to thrust and parry with mine, tasting and teasing each other, taking it deeper and deeper until we were desperate for each other.

His hands were all over me, sliding up and down my body, plucking at my nipples through the lace panels of the lingerie I wore. My back arched, my hands pulling at their bonds, my mouth wordlessly asking him for more.

“Are you overly fond of this outfit?” he asked me, his lips brushing against mine with every word.

“I just…I just bought it today,” I gasped as his fingers worked delicately over my breasts, flicking the already aching tips to almost painfully hard diamond points.

He was up off the bed then, leaving me whimpering in his absence. He was back in a heartbeat though, his words brief and bitten out. “I’ll buy you a new one,” he growled, and then I felt something cool and sharp slide against my skin underneath the material. Suddenly, I was bare; he’d cut the lingerie from me, the tattered remains of it falling down the sides of my body to lie on the bed.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous, sunshine. I love the way you look all spread out for me, your bare skin so soft and touchable…kissable.”

I moaned at the ache twisting in my belly, the heavy curl of want, the sparking fire of need that raced along my skin at his words. My hips thrust toward him, asking for his touch, and I cursed the blindfold now, wanting to see him above me as he buried himself to the hilt inside my folds.

Like he knew my thoughts, the blindfold was wrenched away from my eyes and I blinked up into his face, his stormy eyes searching mine, blazing with a heat that left me breathless. He sat up and reached behind him, gathering up the items that were, miraculously, still lying on the bed despite my thrashing. He brought each of them up and held them in front of my face, lustful speculation creeping into his smile.

“I think we need to turn you over, baby,” he whispered, the words pebbling my skin instantly.

He unsnapped the leather cuffs and turned me, taking the time to move the handcuffs in closer together before snapping the leather cuffs back around my wrists, leaving me face down on the mattress, my hands circling the slats of the headboard, bound by the cuffs. He gripped my hips and pulled them up, my weight resting on my knees, cheek and forearms flat on the bed.

He spread my legs wider, his thumbs caressing the soft, damp folds between my thighs as he did. I jerked at his touch, wanting more, but he denied me.

Instead, he chuckled and moved away again. I turned my head a bit and watched him over my shoulder. His nostrils were flared, eyes flashing, and that gloriously hard part of him was jutting out from his hips, inducing another rush of wetness to my already swollen, glistening pink folds.

Without warning, his hand swung and the supple leather tongue of the riding crop bit into the rounded globe of my ass, making me hiss at the sting. His hand was there, rubbing gently across the red mark, soothing it, before it was gone and the crop was back, stinging the other cheek this time.

Each strike was immediately smoothed, the same as he always did when he’d spanked me with his hand. I loved it when he did that and this…well, this was like a velvet-edged sword, piercing my skin with sweet, sharp, stinging heat that dragged me deeper into subliminal bliss with every stroke. After five swats, each delivered perfunctorily to a new location each time, my ass was striped with small, quickly fading welts and I was wiggling uncontrollably, seeking relief from the aching pressure building and building in me.

Brandon stared down at his artwork, his eyes darkening even more, his jutting length twitching at the sight. “I don’t have the patience tonight to work you here,” he said, softly, reaching out with his hand to press the pad of his thumb against the puckered hole peeking out from between my flushed rear cheeks.

I cried out at the feel of his hand on me, didn’t matter where it was. My body was so tight, craving his touch so desperately it felt like my skin would split open without relief, and soon. He soothed me with gentle words and tender touches, stroking down the backs of my thighs with his fingers just seconds before I was bathed with his hot breath and then his mouth was there.

His hands moved to spread me open wider as his plunged his tongue into my slit from behind, lapping at my juices, sliding through the wet folds until he sucked the tiny pearl of my clit into his mouth, suckling with strong pulls that sent me crashing over the edge, straight into screaming, white hot, spine-tingling euphoria.

My hips bucked and twisted, riding out the waves of my release, but it never quite faded. It started building again almost immediately because Brandon was relentless with his mouth on my sex. He sucked at my clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nubbin until I was almost mindless before he licked into my entrance again, fucking me with his tongue until I came once more, shuddering and gasping as he lapped away every drop of warm honey that flooded my core.

There was no time for me to catch my breath, either, as he wrenched his mouth away, put one hand on the small of my back, dug his fingers in, and then slammed home, filling me with one hard, fluid movement. He was seated fully inside my wet, clenching heat, the swollen thickness of him stretching me almost painfully.

“So tight…” he muttered, slipping out of me a little before sliding back inside. He did this several times, small, smooth thrusts that lessened the discomfort but built the ache returning full force between my thighs.



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