Page 12 of Whiteout

“I’ve never had rough sex,” she whispers, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Hearing those words makes my cock even harder. I tighten my fingers on her neck, making sure she feels my grip. “What exactly does that mean?”

Her breath comes faster now, and her chest rises and falls with each breath. I move my hand down, sliding the loose fabric of her shirt off her shoulder, exposing bare skin. Goosebumps form under my touch. “I’ve never been… restrained before. Never been marked.”

There it is. Her desires laid bare for me to feast on. I dip my head, my lips brushing her ear as I whisper, “Tell me more.”

“I’ve read about it and seen it in movies. Sometimes I even imagine it. Being tied up, helpless, at the mercy of someone else. To be taken without consent, without choice. To be used, to be owned.”

She pauses, her breath shallow, and looks up at me as she continues, “I want to be dominated, possessed by someone who truly wants me."

I shove her against the counter, gripping her wrists and holding them firmly behind her back, my body pressing against hers. My hard cock strains against my jeans as I ache to be inside her.

“You like it when I manhandle you like this?” I growl, my lips close to her ear, my teeth grazing her earlobe.

“Yes.”

The admission sends a rush of power through me. “You like feeling helpless?”

“Yes.” She moans as I nip at her neck, drawing out a small whine from her. “I want you to use me, Kris. I want to be yours.”

I bring her wrists together, lacing my fingers throughhers, and holding them tightly behind her back.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Her whole-body shudders from my breath on her skin, but her eyes are daring me to back up my words with actions.Good, because I have no plans to back down now.

I give her a small, crooked smile, enjoying this dance we're doing. "Turn around and face me."

For a moment, I think she might refuse, but then she obeys.Fuck, she's perfect.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Things are about to get a little less safe for you, Cherry. Clothes off, now."

At my command, she strips for me, pulling her sweater off and revealing a black lace bra. My eyes rake over her body, taking in her taut stomach, the curve of her waist, and the slight swell of her hips. She's gorgeous. Slowly, teasingly, she slides her leggings down, stepping out of them to reveal matching black panties.

Stepping closer, I place my hands on her waist, my thumbs grazing the delicate skin just above the edge ofher panties.

“Perfect,” I whisper. Then I lift her and set her down on the kitchen counter, the cold surface making her gasp.

I grab a roll of butcher's twine from the drawer beside me. It's coarse against my fingers as I ball it in my fist, ready to use it against her soft skin.

"Hands together and hold them out to me." She slowly laces her fingers together and stretches her arms out towards me. I bind her delicate wrists together with the twine and pull it tight. Her eyes flare wide as I take the end of the twine and loop it over the cabinet door behind her. I pull the twine tightly around the bottom of the door and secure the end to the handle on the front of the door. This pulled her arms up and back, forcing her chest to arch forward. Her breasts strain against the cups of her bra.

I see her swallow, that little pulse in her neck jumping. "Are you okay?"

"Yes."

It's a lie. And I fucking love it.

I keep her arms pulled tight over her head as I unhook the front clasp of Ivy's bra. I grab a handful of her tits, giving them a rough squeeze, and tug on her nipples, pulling them taut.

I reach for a tangerine sitting in a bowl on the counter. I hold it up in front of her face. “Open.”

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