Page 116 of Into the Woods

The idea of people watching as Court tied me up and did unspeakable things sounded so sinfully perfect.

“Huh,” he mused, giving a small nod. “My girl has a little bit of an exhibitionist in her.”

“Is that… wrong?” I asked, once again hit by a wave of uncertainty.

He shook his head. “There is no right and wrong, Becca. Our relationship and how we interact in bed and out is ultimately up to us. If you want me to fuck you missionary style in the dark for the rest of our lives, I will. If you want me to strap you to a cross in the middle of a club so people can watch as I torture your sweet little body, then I’m game for that, too.”

I squirmed on his lap, feeling exposed and sexy. “Yes, please.”

“To which?” He arched a brow.

“The second one,” I whispered, almost afraid to admit how much I wanted that. It felt like I was supposed to be embarrassed for wanting something so primal, so vulgar. Societal norms dictated that sex stay behind closed doors.

His hand came around to the back of my head, fisting my hair and tugging my neck back. I gasped around the bite of pain that licked up my scalp.

“Too much?” he asked, his voice like liquid chocolate.

“No,” I gasped, the pain burning a path down my neck and spine before pooling between my thighs.

Court pulled my head back more, my chest arching. He swooped in and took a pebbled nipple between his lips, sucking it hard before biting it.

“Oh, fuck,” I whimpered. I tried to grab his head, to make him turn his attention to my other needy peak, but he tugged my hair tighter. Tears blurred my vision for a second.

“No touching,” he murmured. “Hands behind your back.”

I was quick to obey, folding my arms behind my back and holding on to my wrists.

“Such a good girl,” he rasped.

I blushed and fought a grin as heat unfurled in my chest. Who knew I got off on praise?

He kissed and licked a path between my breasts before nibbling on the other nipple. My breath caught as I clenched my teeth to keep from crying out.

“So fucking responsive,” he said with an appreciative groan. “I can’t wait until we’re somewhere that you don’t have to be quiet.”

I panted, my head bobbing as I agreed. It was so hard to swallow the cries that desperately wanted to come out.

“Can you be quiet, baby?” He looked up at me, waited for me to nod. “Lie back and put your hands up. Hold on to the headboard.”

I toppled backward off his lap, my arms shooting up and my fingers wrapping around the elaborate wooden spindles of my headboard. Clenching my teeth, I watched as Court peeled the sheets away from my body and tossed them aside.

He pushed my thighs open and stared hungrily between my legs until I started to squirm. Suddenly shy of him eye-fucking my pussy, I tried to close my legs.

“Don’t move,” he snapped, pushing my legs even wider as he lay between them. His broad shoulders wedged my thighs open, parting the lips of my sex.

“Court.” I was going to combust if he didn’t do something soon.

He leaned in, his nose right above my clit as he inhaled deeply. “God, this smell is everything.” His finger traced my slit. “You’re fucking soaked for me, baby. I wish you could see yourself the way I do, your pretty pink pussy all shiny.”

The whimper I let out was almost inhuman. He kept dragging a finger around my pussy but refused to touch me where I needed him to. I opened my mouth to tell him to hurry the hell up before I died of whatever the female version of blue balls—blue ovaries?—was.

“Uh-uh,” he told me. “You need to be quiet, remember?”

I pressed my lips together until they hurt, burying the need to demand he do something or beg him to fuck me into the mattress.

“You said spanking was okay, right?” He asked the question almost absently, a finger tracing a pattern on the inside of my left thigh as his face nuzzled my right.

Was I supposed to answer that? Roll over so he could slap my ass?

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