Page 9

Fuck. He really did leave me.

My heart thunders against my chest with fear while my body betrays me below, dampening with heavy arousal. I clench my thighs together, hoping to hide the slick evidence of how much I love this despite my reservations. Giving up on breaking free—because let’s be honest, I don't want to—I relax as much as I can to listen for his return.

A soft click comes from the direction of the door. Near-silent footsteps draw closer to the bed.

I hold a shallow breath.

“Trey?” I whisper.

No answer.

The press of something cold and wet against my inner right thigh startles a gasp from my lungs. Slowly the freezing sensation slides up, leaving a trail of cool liquid in its wake. The ice-cold tip then traces along the line of my boy shorts, barely peeking beneath the tight elastic band before disappearing completely. Ice clinks against glass, my ears perking at the sound. Another icy tip circles along the inside of my other thigh, slowly climbing higher. Edging along the elastic band, the ice slides over the thin cotton to press against my burning folds.

I groan in frustration, need, annoyance. My hips jut off the bed of their own accord, seeking more of the delicious cold sensation against my center. Short, sharp breaths brush past dry lips.

Up and down he glides the bit of ice along my panty-covered slit, pausing at my swollen bundle of nerves. The biting cold presses hard before swirling in fast, tight circles. Unable to stifle my groans, I struggle to swallow each moan of pleasure that wants to rattle the walls.

Water drips down my center, some from the melting ice, the rest from my own slickness.

He swirls the nub of ice faster against my clit, pressing harder and eliciting sharp gasps.

Cold fingers slide along the top band of my panties before tugging them down to my ankles and ripping them off, displaying his urgency.

My thigh muscles stretch wide at the insistent press of his palms against the insides. Hot breath brushes along my center, dissolving the earlier chill. At the feel of his warm tongue as it slides up and down my slick center, I whimper and arch my hips off the bed, searching for more.

A heavy palm smacks against the side of my ass, the loud sound of skin-to-skin contact making me tense.

Trey’s mouth pulls back, leaving me desperate and wanting.

“Please—”

The press of an ice chip directly to my hot, sensitive clit cuts my words off with a short scream.

“Shh, baby, or I'll have to gag you too.” More slickness trickles out at his words. Something is definitely wrong with me. “Oh, you like that idea, don't you?” He chuckles. The resulting vibrations tickle my center, causing me to moan. “Next time, Mess. Next time I'll bind you and gag you and fuck you until you're hoarse.”

Oh hell.I shudder on the comforter.

“Until then.” The melting ice cube returns along with the heat of his mouth, almost like it’s held between his teeth or pressed between his lips, and descends lower toward my entrance. Little by little, his ice-cold tongue dives inside, pushing a bit of the ice in with each thrust.

I fight the restraints. A frustrated grunt comes out at being so out of control.

Up and down he licks, flicking the ice against the tip of my nub.

“Do you forgive me, Mess?” He sucks me hard into his mouth. Again I scream. “Is that a yes.”

“Yes,” I groan. “Fuck yes, Trey. Finish it. I can't take this anymore.” My tone is desperate, and almost whiny.

“Thank fuck.” Two cold fingers slide in deep, curling to hit my most sensitive spot at the same time he nips at my clit.

The world ceases to exist. Every nerve ending, every muscle tenses and freezes in rapid succession as the building orgasm explodes through my veins. A silent scream makes its way out of my gaping mouth as I suck in deep breaths.

Slowly peeling my thighs from around his ears, I let my legs fall to the bed, too exhausted to hold them up on my own. Smiling like a fool, I close my eyes behind the blindfold.

After several seconds pass, my breathing slows to a normal pace as my mind clears.

“Mess,” Trey says beside my ear. The tension holding my arms high loosens, followed by the bind around my wrists. “Mess,” he calls like he's trying to bring me out of a dream. Hell, maybe he is. Maybe I never woke up this morning and this is all one amazing wet dream. “You have five minutes before the AAG meeting.”

My eyes pop open, my lashes brushing along the cloth still covering my eyes. With a curse, I bolt up. Halfway off the bed, I yank the material off my eyes and look down to see what's now slung around my neck. My eyes narrow at my T-shirt.