Page 78

21
NINE INCHES
He retreats and I hear a click, the sound a handheld digital camera makes as it turns on. My trepidation and shame return. My knees are together, but I feel the imprint of his hands vividly on my thighs, reminding me how wide open I’ve been to his digital eyes a few minutes ago.
The bed dips and he prowls close. “Lower yourself down a little, I want to take the rest of your clothes off.”
I scoot down and silently raise my hands. I don’t know if my initiative pleases him. He catches the hem of the half-teddy and gently tugs it over my head. The blindfold doesn’t budge even a fraction. I hear a soft whoosh as the scrap of lace and silk is flung away. His breath catches. Then warm hands drift down the slopes of my chest to cup my breasts.
“Fuck, I love these. You have perfect breasts, Lucky. Perfectly fuckable.” He squeezes and molds, his thumbs brushing back and forth over my nipples. My licked-dry pussy dampens, my breath uselessly frazzled.
“Lie back,” he growls. “Arms above your head. I’m going to tie your hands.”
I swallow the protest that rises to my throat. We agreed on a few hard and fast exclusions. But bondage, light or otherwise, wasn’t discussed. Disconcertion ramps moderately high as I lie back and raise my arms to the headboard.
Firm ropes make short work of securing me to the bed before his mouth closes over one nipple. He sucks me hard and deep enough to flatten my nipple to the roof of his mouth. The sensation arrows white-hot flames straight to my pussy.
His appreciative groan as he suckles me fires me up even higher. Until a deeper hum of a camera impinges my consciousness. I stiffen.
He stills, releases my nipple. “You’re going to have to stop doing that, Lucky.”
“I can’t help it. I can hear them moving.”
“A few of them are programmed to track my motion. You’ll have to get used to them.” He catches my stiff peak in between his fingers.
I gasp. “I’ll…try.”
“You’ll do more than try. I don’t want you tensing up when I fuck you.”
He replaces his fingers with his tongue and flicks a straining nub several times. My breath ruffles out and ends in a tiny scream.
Q continues to lick and squeeze my breasts as he trails his fingers down my shuddering midriff and stomach. “Open your legs. Unless I say otherwise, when you’re with me, I want to see your pussy at all times. Is that understood?”
“Yes.”
He trails lower, then pauses to caress my bare pussy for a spell, before he slides his hands between my legs. I’m wet and hot.
“Jesus. You’re exquisite.” One finger slides inside. My snug, greedy flesh closes around his digit. “And fucking tight.”
He latches on to one breast as he slowly eases his finger back and forth. Within minutes, I’m back on the brink. He increases the tempo of the friction between my legs, his thumb mercilessly circling my clit.
At the back of my mind, it registers that besides his mouth and his fingers, my body hasn’t connected with any part of his. I’m about to experience my second orgasm—subject to imminent permission sought and received—from a man whose face and body are still alien to me.
The thought is demolished beneath the juggernaut of my lust. Even the sounds of the cameras recede as I gallop toward my blissful end. “Q, may I come?”
“I want to make you wait. But I’m dying to fuck this amazing body of yours.”
“Is that…permission?” I gasp as I try to hold on.
“What do you think?”
I shake my head. “Please. I don’t want to guess. Tell me.”
“Fucking hell, every inch of you is addictive. Come, Lucky.”
My mind stops functioning. Every instinct is arrowed between my legs as pure sensation takes over. It’s a full minute before I realize the keening sound in the room is from my throat. He continues to alternatively tease and lick my nipples until my convulsions quiet to tiny tremors.
Then he drops a kiss between my breasts. “Beautiful.”