Page 65 of Outside the Lines
I pushed the ball between Ian’s lips. “So, Simon says, ‘Shut the fuck up.’” I buckled the gag down and Ian groaned.
Yeah,someoneliked being gagged too. I stroked myself as Ian shivered and swallowed. His dick bobbed against his stomach. Next, I pulled out the cuffs he’d used on me, and in no time had him trussed up to the headboard. Nice. Sonice. Mr. I’m-Dominant all owned by subby me. I trailed fingers down his chest and abs. He kicked his legs and struggled against his bonds.
“Is someone ticklish?” I tapped my fingers against the side of his torso and he let out a high-pitched whine.
I couldn’t help the evilness of my chuckle, or running my nails over his skin, tracing the ink over his stomach, until he was twisting and rolling on the bed, held down only by his wrists. He glared at me.
I kissed his forehead. “You wiggle too much.”
Even though he was gagged, I got the distinct impression his two grunts very much meantFuck you.
“Later,” I murmured. “Right after I do something about your legs.” I took out another set of cuffs from the drawer.
Ian’s groan was long and low, but he let me shackle his ankles. His eyes did get a little wide when I pulled out the rope that was always attached to the bottom of the bed frame.
“Told you I’m not always a sub. I’m prepared for switching.” I pulled his legs over and tied them down spread-eagle to the bed. Heat blazed through me when I stood and inspected my handiwork.
Ian had pressed his head against the pillow and closed his eyes. Deep breaths. Quaking body.Perfect. I ran a hand up his leg and cupped his balls. He pulled against all the cuffs, throaty deep moans pouring from beneath the gag, and I imagined there was a staccato refrain offuck, fuck, fuckrunning through his head.
“Different when you’re not in the driver’s seat, huh?” But he was hard and flushed and while he might dislike aspects of this, he’d given me no sign he wanted me to stop.
When he peeled open his eyes, he managed a shrug of sorts, and relaxed completely into the mattress with a soft grunt.
I’d never seen Ian so placid or trusting as in that moment.
Finally. Finally. Every nerve in my body sang and I was so damn turned on. “Watch me.”
Ian’s gaze never left my body as I painstakingly unbuttoned each button on my shirt, then stripped the fabric off my torso. He muttered something against his gag, and I tossed the shirt over him and onto the chair on the far side of the room. My jeans and underwear followed and I stroked myself while inspecting Ian, a mirror of the first time he’d fucked me.
He must have remembered that as well, because he tensed—not much—but enough. “Trust, Ian.” I drew circles on his foot with my finger and he curled and flexed, trying to get away from me. “I’ll torment you.” I repeated the circles on the other side. “I’ll make you moan and struggle and curse at me.” I found his ticklish spots again. He thrashed against the mattress, the whine back, his voice louder.
“But I won’t do anything you ask me not to.” This time I cupped his balls and bent down to take the tip of his dick into my mouth.
His deep groan of pleasure nearly had me coming on his thigh. I’d done this to him—turned him into a whimpering mess—and he’d let me. To see him helpless—his mouth spread around the gag, limbs bound and stretched—sent my pulse high. I wanted to devour him, ride him, and make him come so hard he forgot his own name.
When I stood, there were tears in Ian’s eyes . . . and something profound. Not fear. Not desire, though that was written into every twitch of his body.
Trust. Surrender. Love.
God, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this man.
I got a condom and lube out of the drawer, rolled the first down Ian’s cock and used the second to slick him—and myself. Then, I straddled him and gazed down into those deep, dark eyes. “Thing is, I love your cock upmyass. So, I have no problems fucking myself on you until you can’t see straight.”
When I sank down, Ian’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. His exhale around and through the gag was one long deep sound of pure lust.
I loved having him inside me, stretching me, hitting me exactly right. A little pain, but so much pleasure. I pulled that same sound out of Ian each time I rose up and slid down, taking him deeper until his thighs met my ass, and he arched his back and attempted to thrust deeper into me.
“God,” I murmured, and closed my eyes, savoring the moment—Ian tied down and buried in me, unable to take what he wanted. He wasmine. “I fucking love your cock.”
He grunted appreciatively, but that turned into a whimper when I started to ride him in earnest, taking my own pleasure from him. I found his pecs and thumbed his nipples. Stroked my cock to the sounds he made. Ian shook and thrashed beneath me, and I loved every second of owning his body and mind. Heat raced through me and I fought against the rising tide of my desire.
I knew he was close when his moans grew deeper and more guttural. I wasn’t far behind, the fire in my blood rising and rising, ready to burn through me until there was nothing left. I fucked Ian’s cock, ramming him into me as I beat myself off. Part of me wanted him to come first, but I also knew he’d lose it when I shot all over him. Didn’t matter—only that I’d be the one making him come.
In the end, I broke first. One moment I was riding Ian and jacking off, and the next I was yelling his name and shooting jizz all over his chest and throat. He shook beneath me, eyes wide, then he screwed them tight as he moaned and yelled around the gag, thrusting and twisting until he whimpered and stilled. There were tears in his eyes and semen on his chin.
A come-soaked Ian had to be the most glorious sight I’d seen in a long time.
When I could breathe, I rose, stripped the condom off him and found some tissues to clean my hands.
