Page 43 of Rebound

I can. His cock is rock hard, pressing into my belly. He pulls me up into his arms, where he cradles me and kisses my forehead. I hiss as my ass makes contact with his legs, but it’s not intolerable. In fact, I kind of like it. He kisses my neck, making me purr, then lays me down flat on the bed. “Just stay there.”

I’m still wearing the blindfold, and although I could take it off myself at any moment, I don’t want to. The sense of anticipation is glorious, and I lie here, listening to him move around the room. I hear his belt unbuckle and slide out of its loops. The image is all too clear in my head: him standing next to the bed, his belt in his hands. It scares me, but the warm liquid seeping between my legs says I also like it.

He crawls along next to me, and I tremble as he runs the belt up my body. The buckle bumps over my nipples, and he continues upward to my face and holds it under my nose. It smells of leather and him, and I feel my pulse racing.

“You like this, baby, I can tell. You want to feel my belt on you, don’t you? You’re even dirtier than I thought. I’m not going to give that to you tonight. Your ass has taken enough, and when I use my belt on you, I want you to really fucking feel it. For now, we’ll use it for something else.”

He takes both my arms and raises them above my head. With one wrist crossed over the other, he ties them together with his belt. “How does that feel? Because it looks fucking sensational. You on those black sheets, your hair all wild. The blindfold, the belt… You’re like a wet dream come to life.”

Without my vision, all I can do is feel. His hands on my body, on my breasts. His mouth on my nipples. “Oh god, Elijah, it feels…”

“What, sweetheart?” He pulls away, leaving me desperate. “How does it feel?”

“It feels amazing. What… What are you going to do to me?”

“You keep asking that. You’ll have to wait and see.”

From the sounds I hear, I can only guess that he’s taking off the rest of his clothes. Then comes the familiar sound of ice and liquid clinking in a glass, and I try to picture what he’s doing. “Are you… Are you drinking a Scotch?”

“I am. An especially fine glass of Macallan. The perfect accompaniment to this fine view. Spread your legs for me.”

I don’t react immediately, and when he speaks again, his voice is dark and commanding. “Spread your legs. Now.” I do as I am told this time, and he growls as I reveal myself.

“Fuck. You’re so wet. So fucking needy. I could look at this all damn day. Stay exactly like that for me.”

The glass is set on a wooden surface. A drawer opens. Blindfolded, my arms tied above my head, I lie here with my most private parts on display like an exhibit in a gallery. My pussy weeps for him to touch me again.

When he does, it’s not what I expect. He takes my legs and spreads them wider. Then, with quick hands, he uses a length of silky fabric to tie my ankles to the wooden frame at the corners of the four-poster bed.

“Wh-what are you doing?” I splutter, raising my head with some difficulty.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m tying you up to keep your legs nice and wide. Then I’m going to play with you and make you come. And then I’m going to fuck your brains out. Objections?”

Oh my god. This is really happening. He moves to my other leg, and I let my head fall back to the bed. My heart pounds. “Amber. Speak to me. If you want me to stop, you know what to say.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want you to stop.”

He slides his hands up my inner thighs, and I feel so ridiculously exposed. I’m completely at his mercy, and I love it. “That’s what I thought, my horny little slut. Look how wet you are. If I touched this pussy now, I think you’d come immediately. I think you’re almost there from being spanked and restrained. You’re desperate for me.”

“Yes, please—touch me.”

He laughs, and I’m flooded with disappointment when he removes his hands from my skin. I hear the sound of his glass again and feel the weight of him sinking into the mattress next to me. He runs his hand over my bound wrists, down my arms, around my throat. I almost jump out of my skin when he presses something freezing cold against one nipple, then the other.

“What is that?” I shriek. My nipples pucker.

“Ice from my Scotch. Nothing that will hurt you, so settle down.” He moves the ice cube around, making circular motions around my taut nipple. It’s painful and perfect, and he follows it up with his mouth, sucking the bud between his lips. The contrast between the cold of the ice and the warmth of his tongue is mind-blowing, and he clearly enjoys torturing me.

My breath comes in heavy pants as he works his way down my body, running the ice cube along my skin, leaving a chilled, watery trail behind him. He reaches my pussy, and I cry out as he slides the melting cube along my center.

“Oh! That’s so cold. It… Oh, god.” I shiver, cold water dripping inside my center and mixing with my own juices to flow down to the sheets under me.

“This is missing something,” he murmurs, climbing off the bed again. I feel liquid pouring over my pussy, warmer than the ice. A familiar scent reaches my nose. “Is that Scotch?” I ask. “Did you just pour fifty-year-old Macallan on my pussy?”

“Yeah. The perfect cocktail—Scotch, ice, and your cunt. And now I’m fucking thirsty.”

His mouth settles over my sensitive flesh, and his tongue starts to lap at me. He licks up all the liquid, then buries his face there, his nose running up and down my opening, his tongue going inside me to curl and play against my inner walls. He holds my hips steady, and I realize I’m bucking and writhing beneath him. My whole body is on fire. Being tied up, the ice, the heat… It’s all too much. He sucks my clit into his mouth and holds it there, lashing it with his tongue, driving me wild. He sucks harder, and I explode. The orgasm rockets through me, and I scream his name, my belt-tied hands thrashing against the bed, my eyes rolling in my head behind my blindfold. He works me some more, licking every drop of Scotch and cum from me, letting me shudder against his face. It feels like it lasts forever, and I am a wreck by the time he finally pulls away.

“Jesus fuck,” he says, and I picture him wiping his beard. “Best drink I ever tasted. And now I get to fuck you, baby.”

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