Page 50 of Corrupted Union

Being on display made my nipples almost painfully erect. Even more surprising was the thrum of pleasure I experienced from the coarse texture of the rope. It was abrasive. I probably shouldn’t have liked it, but I did. A lot. The hint of burn stirred a heat deep in my belly.

“How does that feel?” Keir asked, pausing to meet my eyes.

I was so breathless with sensation, I struggled to speak. “Good … it’s good.”

He hummed his approval, then wrapped my upper arms to secure them at my sides. Each of his movements was quick and confident in his technique, which made me endlessly curious as well as jealous. This wasn’t his first time wielding a rope. I abhorred thinking of him doing anything so intimate with anyone else.

“You’re doing so well, Rowan.” He came to my front, admiring his work. Every inch of my skin flushed from his praise. “Lie back on the bed.”

I did as I was told, somewhat awkwardly since my arms had limited use. Once I was situated, my breath hitched in my throat to see him kneeling above me.

“Bring your hands to your ankles.”

The movement opened me to his sight. He took full advantage, unapologetically staring. One scalding hand slid down my shin. “What we’re about to do is all about trust. Your control lies in your trust of me to respect your limits and take care of you.”

“And what do you get from this?” I asked curiously.

“I told you. Your trust.” He began to tie my hand to my ankle, avoiding my wet bandage, then did the same for the other side until I was rendered completely immobile.

If a heart attack could result from sheer exertion, my whirring organ was dangerously close to that limit. I took a slow breath through my mouth.

Keir’s guttural rumble of approval kissed my ears and warmed my insides. “You’re stunning, little lamb.” He sat back and admired his work before easing off the bed and coming back with the spatula. He assessed the black plastic, rolling it around in his hands. “Again, not ideal, but it will serve its purpose.”

“Which is?” I breathed.

A wicked glint flashed in his eyes. He didn’t answer, not verbally. Instead, he turned the utensil around and holding the spatula part, brought the rounded handle to rest in the middle of my chest between sections of rope. Slowly, he dragged it down and over to my right breast, circling the rounded mound in a spiral, inching closer to the taut peak.

I couldn’t explain it, but something about his use of an object rather than his own hands was even more electrifying. An uncertain edginess that heightened the anticipation.

I arched as best I could in my confines, silently begging him to ease the ache in my nipples. He understood. His hand cupped my breast, enveloping all but the tip. Then he pulled his hand away, fingers cinching around my nipple at the last second. He gave it a sharp tug that had me seeing stars.

A mewl clawed its way past my lips. I’d never made a more wanton sound in my life.

Keir’s mouth lapped at my nipple, soothing the pebbled flesh with his tongue. “When we get home, we can try out clamps for these.” His teeth grazed over the sensitive skin, sending another bolt of desire to my throbbing clit.

Moisture dripped from my entrance. “I need more, Keir.Please.”

His lips curved up with satisfaction as he brought the spatula handle back to my middle, dragging it down until he reached the top of my slit. I quit breathing entirely when he dipped the cool plastic lower.

“I’m going to give you everything you need, Rowan. Will you trust me to do that?”

I nodded eagerly, no hesitation.

“Such a good little lamb.”

The spatula handle crested my entrance. Watching him fondle me with something not meant for that use felt so damn taboo and erotic. I’d never experienced anything like it. When he started to stroke himself, I thought I’d lose my mind with desire.

Was it possible to come without a single touch to my clit? The sight of his tattooed arm, muscle flexing with each pump of his thick shaft, was about to test the theory. I was so perilously close to release that I could hardly believe it.

My inner muscles spasmed angrily. I gasped. “Keir,please!” I whimpered.

Then the handle was inside me. It felt foreign yet satisfying, easing the aching need I had to be filled. Keir fucked me with the plastic spatula, his other hand stroking the sides of my clit between his fingers. He used my body in the most delicious way, and I was helpless to stop him. Not that I wanted to. The powerlessness allowed me to let go of my objections and simply receive the pleasure he gave.

He took me to the brink, then moved his focus to my aching breasts, giving my core time to cool before lowering himself to lick at my entrance. Again, he teased me to the point of excruciation but stopped just as my legs began to twitch and tremble.

“No!Please, I need to come.”

“And you will … with my cock inside you.” Finally, he aligned his body with mine, waiting until our eyes were locked before rocking himself deep into my sensitive channel.

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