Page 17
Story: Tied up in Knots
I swallow thickly. The look in his eyes is predatorial, and like his prey I freeze in place. Watching him make his way across the room at a pace that saysI’m in no rush.
Stepping around me, he reaches out to the floor to ceiling curtains bracketing my large bay of front windows. Pulling on the tassel rope tie, he releases one set of curtains and pulls them over half the windows. Then repeats the action on the opposite side, concealing us from the world outside. The turquoise rope tie remains in his hands, and he wraps it once around his fist.
My gaze remains fixed to his hands and my pulse quickens at the tightening of the cord and flexing of his fist. My mind is a bit fuzzy on the specifics of our first time together, but I do recall him liking my hands wrapped in the rope hanging from the ceiling of his boat. I picture Warren tying me up and having his way with me and I’m not turned off by the image.
“Wrists,” he commands in a calm even voice. I raise my wrists in obedience, positioned in offering to him.
Warren’s eyes darken and he exhales heavily, as if he wasn’t expecting me to obey but thrilled that I did. This tying up thingmust be a kink of his. Is it just restraint he likes or is it the ropes? I may not be practiced in the art of kink but I’ve read plenty.
He reverently wraps the sleek rope around my wrists in a practiced manner that says this isn’t the first time he’s done it. A spike of jealousy shoots through me knowing he’s done this with other women. But another stronger emotion overpowers it. Lust. Desire. I want him too much to worry about the women who came before me, and the ones who will come after.
Securing the knot on the rope he checks his work, satisfied. There’s still room for movement so I don’t chafe but there’s no way I can work myself free from his skillfully crafted knots. My wrists are bound together with one tasseled end dangling like a leash, held tight in Warren’s hand.
Lifting my bound wrists, he slips them over his head, causing me to stand on my toes. Our new position brings our faces so close I can feel his breath on my lips.
“Just where I want you,” he whispers into my lips before finally kissing me.
It’s a desperate but reverent kiss. Water to a man dying of dehydration. He savors me, wrapping his arms around my waist and digging his fingers into my ass. Lips pressing and sucking, his tongue languidly learning every inch of my own. Unhurried and purposeful in his exploration, as if he hadn’t learned every inch of me the other night.
My knees go weak and I’m glad for Warren’s arms around me and the rope holding mine together.
“Can I have you a little longer, Bambi?”
The question is a plea spoken against my jaw as he trails the lightest kisses along my skin. Doesn’t he know by now I will always say yes to him? That I would take an eternity or an hour with him.
“I’m yours for as long as fate allows.”
I feel a little poetic in my response, probably too many romantasy novels. Even with my whimsical answer he understands, his mouth finding mine again. This time hungry and demanding. I give as much as I get and am rewarded with a growl in the barrel of his chest.
Lifting me by the back of my thighs, he wraps my legs around his waist and grinds the thick length of his erection directly against my core and I whimper. I may never get over this man, even after having him I’ll always compare men to him, and none will ever match up.
Chapter 8: Warren
I could pay homage for hours on my knees
Bambi was so willing to let me tie her wrists. I hadn’t intended to tie them but when my fingers grazed the curtain ties my impulse took over. I wanted to see how accepting she would be to my particular brand of kink. More than accepting it turns out.
With her arms locked around my neck and her legs around my waist I walk us into her bedroom. A place so familiar and yet so foreign at this moment.
Her mouth never leaves mine as I set her back on her feet. Removing my head from between her arms I begin to unbuckle her overalls. They fall to the floor with a muted thud, and I can see cold bumps raise along her skin as it’s exposed to the cool air of her room. Soon the stove and our activities will warm the space up.
I run the tip of a finger along her thigh and watch her suck in a shuddering breath. I quickly remove her boots and pants from her ankles. Kneeling at her sock covered feet I press hot kisses to her knee and thigh, her bound hands coming to rest atop my head and thread through my hair, pulling at the roots. The sting of pleasurable pain has me groaning.
Slipping a finger along the strip of fabric between her legs I find her wet and warm. She moans when I suck on her clit through her panties and digs her fingers tighter into my hair.
My dick is throbbing against my zipper and the pressure is both a punishment and a reward. My hips rock instinctually, rubbing my swollen head against the straining material with enough force to ease my growing lust momentarily. At least enough to allow me to continue in my tasting of Bambi.
Hooking my thumbs under the side of her panties I pull them off, only detaching my mouth from her pussy long enough to remove them. Licking a long line through her wet slit and worshiping at the altar of Bambi. I could pay homage for hours on my knees, but I want more. I want it all.
I remain with my head between her thighs for a few minutes, ensuring she’s worked up before pulling away and standing. The moment I’m on my feet she reaches for my waistband. Popping the button open and unzipping my pants. I assist by shedding my jacket and shirt while she pulls my jeans to my ankles. Expertly might I add considering her hands are still bound.
I kick them and my shoes off and stand naked before her, cock bobbing hard between us. Her bound hands circle my shaft from each side engulfing me in her hold. The long strokes paired with the slight rubbing of the rope against my balls and thigh cause blood to rush fast and hard to my nether regions, almost making me lightheaded.
“Fuck Bambi, you’re gonna make me pass out that feels so good.”
“I bet it would feel better with my mouth on it.”
She’s not wrong but in the aroused state I’m in even the thought of being in her pretty mouth has me leaking precum.
Table of Contents
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- Page 17 (Reading here)
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