Page 114 of Caught Up

Oh my god, he was going to bind me up likethis? I wouldn’t be able to wrap my legs around him. I wouldn’t be able to grind against him. I’d be almost completely motionless from the waist down. No wonder he worried I would hate him; he knew how much I loved to move when we fucked.

But then I realized it also meant that he would have complete control over me, and my submissive little soul lit up with pleasure. If I’d been wet before, I was about to be completely soaked for him now.

He leaned down, kissing me, pressing my leg even closer to my chest, tightening the bond still more. His erection, hidden inside his jeans, pressed against my core. I squirmed against it, wanting him,needinghim, but he chuckled and pulled back, and it left me wondering when our roles had reversed andIhad become the impatient one.

“How’s that?” he asked, tying the rope off.

“It’d be a lot better if you were already inside me,” I grumbled, unable to stop myself.

Someone snorted in the audience, and while a few low chuckles rolled through the crowd, Nic got to work binding my other leg, jerking that one a little harder than the first. I gasped, and he grinned, securing it in place, and then his hands fell away, and I settled into the bond, finding it surprisingly comfortable. The ropes held the weight of my legs, so I wouldn’t have to strain to keep them aloft, and I could already imagine how good it would feel pressing against them as I moved. Plus, my hands were free, so I’d be able to—wait a second, where hadthosecome from?

Nic dangled a pair of red wrist cuffs from a finger.

“Lift your arms overhead,” he said, moving out from between my legs.

I nearly whimpered at the loss of him, at the delay. I needed him inside me,now.

He went to the raised side of the chaise while I followed his order. It was then that I noticed a metal loop at the very top and realized he wanted me completely helpless. My mouth went dry. Him taking full control like this?Yes, Daddy.

His fingers were warm against the skin of my wrists as he bound them with the cuffs and then used the last piece of rope to tie them to the hook. Once done, he repositioned himself between my legs, looking down at me, admiring his handiwork his gaze lingering on where the ropes dug into my thighs. I could feel the heat rolling off him, see the need in his eyes. Oh, yeah, this was his favorite kink, all right. The sight of me bound like this wasdestroyinghim.

“Lo,” he said, deep, guttural. He placed his hands on the backs of my thighs, and I could feel them trembling. The man was about three seconds away from losing control, and he needed to know I was right there with him.

“Fuck me,” I begged. “Please.”

His hands left my legs. I felt a jerk, heard the sound of tearing, and realized he’d ripped the crotch of my panties. Moans and gasps sounded from the audience, but I could barely hear them over my pulse pounding in my ears. Nic spit into his hand, and I had no idea why the sight was so hot—maybe because he was too impatient to reach for the lube on a nearby shelf, or maybe because it wasn’t a “nice” thing to do. The longer I was with him, the more I realized that nice was overrated. His other hand went to his pants just long enough to free that big, beautiful dick, and then he was coating himself with his own saliva, fitting the head to my pussy, and shoving just inside.

I sucked in a breath, every muscle in my body tightening. Tied up like this, he felt huge, almost too big to fit, and as much as I wanted it hard and fast, I realized he was going to have to take his time to keep from hurting me.

So I gave up. I let my own wants and needs go, handed him all the power, and settled back against the chaise to enjoy the ride, my inner muscles loosening, making it easier for him to thrust deeper. He must have felt the change come over me, because his eyes lifted from where we were joined, and the look on his face was so raw, so full of need and devotion and possession that I fell in love with him all over again.

His hands landed back on my thighs, pushing down, stretching me even farther as he shunted his hips forward and fucked into me. The ropes tightened. My chest heaved as I sucked in a breath, and his gaze fell to my tits. I felt every glorious inch of him rubbing inside me as he pulled out. Another thrust, deeper this time. His jaw clenched, and I knew he was holding back, being careful, barely restraining himself. I loved it, because it showed how much he cared, how much he wanted this to be good for me, too.

My arousal eased his way, and with one last thrust, he bottomed out, pausing there, fingers digging into my thighs, breathing hard. Around us, the sound of others joining in echoed through the room, and I realized how good the acoustics onstage were, much better than out in the audience, every sigh and moan perfectly audible. It was fucking hot. Sex amplified, playing right into my ears.

Nic must have noticed, too, because he paused, his eyes locked on mine, and canted his head as if listening. A sly glance toward the crowd had his dick stiffening inside me, confirming that he liked being watched just as much as he liked tying me up. He and I were going to havesomuch fun performing together.

His gaze came back to mine, scorching, and I had just enough time to realize what was coming before his hold on me tightened and he thrust forward, hard and fast. All I could do was lie there, shifting my hips up to meet him and clenching my thighs around his waist as he started a steady rhythm. The ropes dug into me, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that I couldn’t forget that I was bound, restrained, at his mercy.

He leaned forward, bracing a hand on the chaise, his other gripping my hip, and,oh, god, that changed everything. Now he was hitting me right where I needed him, stroking a spot deep inside that made my eyes roll back in my head. His pelvic bone rubbed over my clit with every thrust as he tipped his head down just enough to tongue my nipple through thewhisper-thinlace of my bra.

I met him stroke for stroke, reveling in every sensation, dragging the pleasure out for as long as possible instead of racing to the finish line. It was incredible, the ass shaking, titties bouncing, thighs clenching, toes curling, lip biting, stomach quivering, breath stealing, kind of fucking Nic did best, and suddenly I was jealous of everyone in the crowd for getting to watch him at work. If I’d thought ahead, I would have set a camera up somewhere so I could relive this moment over and over again for the rest of my life.

My pussy pulsed around him. I arched my back as much as I could, changing our angle so he slid even deeper. He pulled his lips from my breast, and I craned my head up. Looking down my body at him, seeing the ropes pulled taut on my thighs and his stomach flexing as he pistoned into me was so erotic that it made all the other scenes I’d watched pale in comparison. No wonder we had so many repeat performers at Velvet. The adrenaline of doing this was like a drug, and I flew higher and higher, never wanting the moment to end.

A moan hit my ears, and I finally turned my head, looking into the crowd. They were little more than abstract shapes at first, but as my eyes adjusted, I saw arms working, heads bobbing, even afull-onthreesome in the back row, and the realization that Nic and I were the ones to put them in this frenzy pushed me over the edge, the orgasm I’d been holding off breaking through my defenses to slam into my body like a tidal surge breaching a dam. I cried out, shaking, shuddering, my muscles clenching as Nic continued to pound into me, drawing it out.

He came with a groan a heartbeat later, dick so rigid inside me that I knew he was riding the same high I was. Afterward, he half collapsed onto me, forehead resting between my breasts, lungs heaving against my bound thighs.

A cheer rose from the crowd, started by Taylor, and the scene ended the way it began: with love and laughter.

Epilogue

“Thank god the weather held,”Aly said as she led the way out her back door.

I followed after her, laden with wineglasses, careful to turn sideways on the way out so I didn’t accidentally hit the doorframe and shatter one. “I know,” I said. “I was worried yesterday when I saw the possibility for rain. Don’t get me wrong, this still would have been nice indoors, but not like this.”

Ahead of us, two picnic tables were pushed together on the back deck. White tablecloths covered them, and running down the center was a series of pots and vases filled with white hydrangeas, the last of the season. We’d placed white pillar candles all around them, and each setting had a round wicker placemat with a plate on top of it and a white napkin pulled through a wicker napkin holder. Gold cutlery sat on each side of the plates, and we were just about to deposit thegold-rimmedglasses that would complete the look.

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