Page 30 of Beneath the Blindfold

“Please.” I begged it on a shuddering breath.

“This is how I like you. Watching you trying to keep it together.” There was another nip on my thigh, but this one was soft and seductive. “Let’s play a little game, Payton. I’m going to undo one of your straps.”

It was hard to think through the fog of lust. He was going to set me free? The use of one hand meant I could easily undo the other strap or pull off the blindfold. I’d only have the illusion of restraint.

“I’m going to make you come,” he said. He kissed the spot where my leg joined my body. The muscles low in my stomach clenched in response, so hard it was almost painful. “If you touch me, or yourself, you don’t get to come the rest of the day.”

I swallowed a gulp of air and bit down on my bottom lip. I almost preferred that he keep me bound. I didn’t trust myself. But the Velcro tugged open with a loud scratchy noise, and his hand closed on my wrist, pinning it to the mattress-top.

“It’s simple. Your hand stays here. Can you obey?”

My chest was heaving and my heart raced. “Yes, Sir.”

He issued a noise of approval. I didn’t call him Sir often as if he were my Dom and mean it. I liked rationing the word so it carried more power and weight when used.

“Yes,” I cried. My back arched up off the table and my head tipped back. His soft, sinful tongue licked and swirled. It fluttered on my clit. I probably looked like a woman possessed when he fucked me with his mouth, but it was true. I was completely possessed by him. Two thick fingers crept inside. The first inch. And another. Behind closed eyelids, colors spun with my pleasure.

But the warmth of his mouth retreated, causing me to collapse back against the cushion-top.

“Oh . . . my . . .fuck.”

He wasn’t playing fair. A third finger nudged down, touching my asshole while his fingers were fucking my pussy. I swallowed hard, and commanded my hand to stay in place. I wanted to rub my clit as his finger began to intrude there, filling me full. My orgasms with anal were much more intense, but I wouldn’t get there on penetration alone.

I began to writhe when he had two fingers in each entrance. His languid pace was diabolical, and I pictured him bent over the table between my legs, propped up on one arm as he fucked me with the other. His gorgeous eyes would be watching my every move. Every gasp of breath I took.

My head turned and I moaned it into the side of my arm. “Oh, God, please.”

It was killing me not to set my fingers on my swollen clit. It would probably take me two circles of my frantic fingers and I’d come apart. He knew this. He was pushing me as he liked to do.

“You’re so fucking hot, I can’t stand it,” he said in his rough, deep voice.

I cried out in relief as his other hand cupped my pussy, his thumb rolling circles on the nub that was the center of my pleasure.

“Scream for me,” he commanded.

Holy shit, I did. It ripped from my throat and echoed in the soundproof room, so only he could hear how much ecstasy he’d drawn out of my body. I convulsed on his fingers as bliss tore me apart, and the sensation went on.

And on.

Oh my God.

I screamed again as the second wave of pleasure crashed into me, leaving my mind blank. All I could do was shudder and endure as my body took control. Flashes of white decorated my eyelids.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Your pussy’s gonna break my fingers.”

There was no response I could give. No biting remark. I had to focus on pulling air in through clenched teeth. He’d gotten me breathing so hard I’d come close to passing out. The hand slid away. His zipper rang out. The table shook as he climbed on it.

His voice was pure sex. “Here’s the cock you asked for.”

He didn’t give me any rest. His fat dick impaled me in a single thrust. My mouth fell open, but no sound came out and my heart refused to work properly. It slammed in my chest just as fast as he slammed into me, and it burned so good.

His clothed body pressed to my naked one, and my nipples rubbed against the cotton of his t-shirt. I loved feeling his weight on me. Then he shifted, taking it away for a moment, and when his body pressed back down, it was warm skin on mine. He’d pushed his shirt up so we could have delicious contact.

The fingers of my unbound wrist flexed and curled back into a fist. I yearned to touch him, or to push my blindfold up so I could watch as he fucked me. Whimpers flowed from my mouth. Desperate, pathetic noises that only seemed to make his cock harder and his thrusts deeper.

“You feel so fucking good,” I mumbled into the side of his neck. The flutters in my belly began once more, and I was quaking beneath him.

“You ready to come again?” His voice was corrupt.

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