Page 74 of Audiophile

She moans, and her hips rock in my lap. “We need to skip ahead, because you definitely would’ve felt how much that turns me on.”

I imagine it, and my reasoning frays at the edges. “Let me undress you. Warm you up first.”

“Who said we’re doing this naked?” she teases. She’s blossomed from the shy woman in my bathtub only days ago, and her joy is infectious.

“You want this or you don’t, baby.” I yank her blouse and bra out of the way to nip at her breast. It’s a bluff. I’ll concede practically anything. Hell, I agreed to be tied up and endure brutal edging for her. But if my hands are going to be bound, I want my mouth to have as much access as possible.

“Fine, agreed.” She moans as I flick my tongue against her hardened bud. I retreat reluctantly, pulling her shirt over her head. She’s haughty as she squints at me and pulls her bra back into place. I’ve underestimated her wolf.

“You’re the one skipping ahead,tesoro. Take off your pants and grab a condom,” she orders, heading for the bathroom. Her confidence has my blood running hot.

“And for a tie?” I ask. She emerges with the sashes from the bathrobes and holds them up. They’ll work well enough. “You’ll only need one. I’ll show you how.”

“Pretty sure I need both for my plan.” A blush creeps up her cheeks. “Are you going to get undressed? Turn off the mic?”

I wonder how far I can push. I stall for time as I unbutton my pants, and she watches me so intently that I might have a chance. “Can I leave it on for you and me? I won’t use any of it.”

She bites her lip; I want to tug it into my mouth instead. “That’s a lot to ask of me.”

“It is,” I agree, pulling her to me, palming her ass. My fingers dig in too deep, desperate to dominate. “So is asking me to submit to you.”

“You’re still going to be in charge.” The ties brush the length of my back when she wraps her arms around my neck. “More than ever, probably. But, alright. Mic stays on, for you and me only. And if I listen to it and want you to delete it, you will.”

“Yes, mistress,” I tease. She shivers, her hard nipples begging for attention through the thin fabric covering them. I’m dying to taste them. “I might be a switch, but this is hard for me, Pet. Give me two minutes of control first?”

She laughs, and it lights up her whole face. “What, am I going to time you?”

I toss her onto the bed, and she’s still giggling as I pin her hands above her head, pressing her into the mattress with a kiss. I give her my full weight, and she wraps her legs around my waist, moaning, as I grind into her. My teeth scrape over her lip as she deepens the kiss, and her gasp destroys me.

My self-control leaps out the goddamn window.

I use the ties she’s gripping to bind her wrists together without her noticing. She’s at my mercy, and that drives me to the edge of sanity. I use one hand to push her bra beneath her breasts, grazing my palms over her tender peaks and navigating her ribs, hips, collarbone, neck.

I never let up from her mouth as I tug her pants and underwear down her thighs. When I break away to pull them off completely, she whimpers.

She makes me insatiable, unhinged, indomitable.

I tower over her at the end of the bed and effortlessly flip her onto her stomach. With a quick jerk of her hips, I’ve got her on her knees. “Up on your elbows,” I demand. She scrambles to obey, despite her binding.

“Reed?” She sounds unsure, but my fingers part her and slide home. She’s dripping for me.

“Just my hand, Pet. I know your limit. We’re not going to fuck.”

Her long, low moan eats me up inside, and my fuse burns up. I’m barely hanging on to my humanity as I pump my fingers into her— slower at first, before fucking them into her hard and fast. Her thighs tremble, and she’s chanting my name in a whisper that whips me into a frenzy.

“Please,” she begs, but I don’t know her enough to know what she needs. It shreds me, and I’m helpless as she pushes her hips back to meet me. “Please.”

Surrender.That’s one of her favorites. I curl my hand over her shoulder and press her down into the mattress. Her elbows slide out in front of her, her bound hands curling over the top of her head. On the next retreat, I pull out and deliver a swat to her ass. Not anything heavy, but enough to release some of the hurricane inside me. I don’t give her a moment to recover before I’m two fingers deep in her, and her soft, high-pitched cry is everything.

“Need me to stop?” I pray she doesn’t. I don’t know if I can.

It’smypower I’m taking back, something I didn’t know I needed until now.

“Don’t you dare.” It’s all the permission I need. I grind against her clit with each thrust, and she moans. I give her two sharper swats and press her further into bed. Her knuckles whiten as she grips her hair. “Fuck, Reed!”

It’s the same reprimand as the bath; a sign that she’s right on the edge.

I wish I could fuck her—to stretch her deeper, the way she needs me to—or that I had a vibrator, because one touch and she’d unravel. The only tools I have are my words.

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