Page 91 of Those Who Are Bound

“Have you been fucked here?”

Elliott blushed, even though he couldn’t see her. She shook her head, involuntarily tensing. For all that she had experienced, anal wasn’t something she’d been initiated to.

He made a sound of contemplation, caressed her again, pressing lightly. Then he moved his hand away and delivered another slap to her posterior.

The truth was, she was relieved. There were too many firsts to introducethattonight. Before she could contemplate it further, he pressed his cock against her opening. Her mind went blank again with need. He grasped a handful of her hair and pulled her head back, deepening her arch. He slid in with a slow push until he was completely buried. She shuddered beneath him and shivered all over again on a moan when he slowly pulled out.

Lightning coursed through the room, burning images into her brainavant gardestyle, her sighs and low moans heightening the perfection of the moment. She trembled, her flesh covered in goosebumps. He was taking his time, entering her slowly, making her aware of how tightly her body sheathed him, the exquisite, excruciating pleasure almost making her lose herself before she wanted to be lost.

“Jonah,” she gasped, her fingers gripping the bedspread as she pushed back against him.

“Not yet,” he said, releasing her hair. He slammed into her this time, drawing a loud cry from her. He repeated the hard slam twice more, punctuating it with another slap to her ass. Her arms went out straight on the bed over her head, wrists crossed as she buried her words in the bed.

He picked up his pace, demanding, “I want to hear you.”

Elliott shook her head, biting down hard on her bottom lip. She was having an out-of-body experience while being hyperaware of everything he was making her body feel. Dear god, every stroke within her was sheer delight; she was becoming intimately acquainted with the wordecstasy. But she’d lost her mind for a moment; he’d sent her years back—stirred the demon inside her.

No, please, I don’t need it. I don’t want it.

But she did want it; she wanted it from him. The images were bombarding her as violently as this thrusts: rope. Jonah with rope, him winding it around her; it dangling from his hands. She wanted him to tie her down. Suspend her; bind her; restrain her. She cried out to protest against the demon unfurling, screaming into the covers.

“Elliott!” Jonah demanded, pounding into her, his hands gripping her hips, slamming into her, the sound of their bodies coming together joining the symphony of the dying storm and their bid for oxygen.

His voice centered her, as much as she could be centered with him creating a tempest between her legs to shame the one outside. Turning her head to the side, she panted, “Jonah, please.”

“Please what?”

Not having the mental faculties to articulate what she needed, she said, “Fuck me.”

He offered a breathless chuckle, “Doing my best, kitten.”

“Oh… fuck,” she groaned, her body coming apart. “Please, please.”

“Come on, give it to me,” he encouraged. He moved his hand to her front and massaged her to her climax. She screamed and hit the mattress, rearing back against him convulsively, words spilling inarticulately from her.

As she began to calm, he came with his own guttural moan and cry, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pumped furiously into her, then stilling on a hoarse gasp. Falling onto the bed, he held her tightly, her back to his chest as they struggled to reclaim their breathing, their hearts racing and bodies still electrified. Elliott snuggled back against him, her whole body sated; her mind, although briefly disturbed, now calmer than it had been in a long time.

Jonah caressed her arm and kissed the back of her head.

Elliott shifted, rolling over to face him, giving a small laugh at the fact that their feet were hanging off the side of the bed. Looking at his gratified expression that was occasionally highlighted by nature’s strobe lights, Elliott said, “I didn’t see that coming.”

Jonah chuckled, reaching up to push her hair out of her face.

“Worth the wait,” she assured him, easing up to kiss him. He kissed her back enthusiastically with a sound of agreement, his hand wandering over her body, causing her to shiver all over again. On a hum, she confessed, “I wish I had friends.”

“Why?” he asked curiously.

Smiling, she answered, “So I could send them a picture of your cock and tell them, this is what I get, and it’s way better than what you get.”

He barked out a laugh. Then he left the bed. She watched him go into the bathroom. She heard running water, and moments later, he reappeared with a hand towel. Rejoining her, he stuttered her heart by gently cleaning himself from between her thighs with the warm towel.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced up from his ministrations. “Taking care of you.” He said it like it should have been obvious, like it was… normal. Like she should have known.

“Oh.” It was new for her. “What if I like the feeling of you between my legs?” Was that weird? Would he think she was weird?

Jonah smiled. “If that’s what you want…”

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