Page 43 of Embers of You (Amity #1)

Sutton

“How’re you planning on doing that?” I pant against his mouth, my fingers trailing down his sweat covered chest. The hard muscles there tense under my touch as I trace lower, close to his waistband.

I don’t move to undo them because I’m not sure if that’s what he’s talking about, and I’m not about to embarrass myself if it’s not.

Jameson runs his nose along mine, up to my hairline, his lips touching my forehead. “Remember what I said about tying you up in here?”

I suck in a sharp breath. I remember exactly what he said about that. I remember how much I wanted it as soon as he said it, and how it felt so shocking to come from a man like him. But I know he’s been struggling. He’s not been the same, and I don’t expect him to be.

If this is what he needs, if I can do anything to give him a way to get out of his head, if only for a little, then I’ll do that. I always will because somehow I’ve fallen completely in love with Jameson Turner.

“Yes,” I breathe.

“Then I’m going to tell you what I need you to do and you’re going to be a good girl for me, and do it.”

I bite back a moan at his demanding tone. This isn’t the sweet Jameson, this isn’t even the Jameson I’ve experienced in the bedroom before. This is another side to him, one that I want just as much as the others. This one needs something from me and I’ll give it to him on a silver platter.

“Take off all your clothes, and go stand over there.” He turns me, pointing to the area where the horses get cross tied. “I’m going to get some rope.”

He nudges me forward, and I go with a gasp. My underwear is already so wet I should be embarrassed. I work quickly to remove my clothes, knowing the chances of being caught out here this time aren’t likely, but the thought still sends a zip of excitement through me.

I’ve barely stepped out of my underwear, having stripped everything else off already, when I feel the familiar warmth of Jameson’s skin at my back.

“Turn around, and put your hands above your head.” His voice is deeper than usual, almost cold, but it only makes me feel hotter.

I do what he says, noticing he’s still in his jeans, but he has rope in his hand and my heart rate kicks up realizing just how serious he was. He’s going to tie me up in here and do whatever he wants to my body, and I won’t be able to touch him.

I know if I don’t want this or if I need him to stop at any point he would. But I won’t. I’m going to give him what he needs. He can use my body however he wants, take whatever he wants, it’s his—I’m his.

Once my hands are raised above my head, he crowds me against the wall.

My back hits the wood and I gasp, already feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated in the best way without him even touching me yet.

The second he starts tying my wrists with the rope it sends a shot of electricity straight between my thighs.

I’m already so desperate for him, so needy for his touch that him simply tying me to a ring attached to the wall has me about to combust. I look up to watch the way his hands move methodically as he ties an expert knot. The rope tightens around my skin and I flinch, but not at the pain.

“Are you okay?” he asks, obviously noticing because he misses nothing.

“More than okay,” I answer honestly.

His hands flex, making the veins in his arms pop as he finishes the knots and I swear my knees would give out and I would end up on the floor if I wasn’t secured to this wall. When he steps back and I can see all of him, I may actually have some drool pooling at the side of my mouth.

Jameson is a piece of art in human form, and especially like this. Burning blue eyes staring at me with so much heat I swear I’m going to melt from it. The summer night is warm, but the sweat on my skin has nothing to do with it and has everything to do with the way he’s looking at me.

His skin shines with the sweat covering him from the work he was just doing, but his chest heaves with heavy breaths I know have nothing to do with exertion.

That’s all because of me. My eyes find the bulge in his pants, making my mouth water, and I wish he was as naked as me because I want to eat him up with my eyes like he’s doing to me.

“You’re missing something,” he says suddenly, making me snap my eyes up to his once again.

I bite back my retort about the fact that yeah, I’m missing all my clothes, but I stay silent.

He goes over to a hook on the wall where his brown cowboy hat is hanging up.

He picks it up and puts it on my head before stepping back again.

I arch toward him as though my body is a magnet trying to get to him to have him touch me.

“That’s better,” he growls.

“Does that mean you’ll touch me now?” I whimper.

“Impatient. You said you remembered what I told you about tying you up in here.”

“I do,” I squirm.

“Then what did I say?”

“You, um…” I squeeze my thighs together realizing that can help ease some of the ache and it distracts me slightly because I’m so desperate for him to get his rough hands on me.

“I, what, Sutton?” he snaps. “Don’t think you can solve your problem yourself. I’ll touch you, but you have to earn it. What did I tell you would happen?”

“You said you would edge me over and over.”

“Think you can handle that?”

I part my legs slightly, the air hits the wetness between them. “I can handle anything when it comes to you.”

He steps closer to me, hooking his finger underneath my chin and tilting my head back slightly. “You really think so?”

“I know so.”

His lips descend on mine again, viciously.

He’s taking and giving while I do the same.

I moan and he swallows it easily while one hand collars my throat, and the other grabs my hip tightly.

I want to wrap my arms around him. I want to touch him, but his chest is barely touching mine, just enough for the hair there to graze my nipples and it only makes me want to feel more of him.

“Please,” I plead against his lips, my hips bucking forward, trying to get him to touch me.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this needy.

” His mouth moves to my jaw, kissing and nipping at the skin there, then descends lower.

His hand moves from my throat to my chest, pinching my nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

I gasp as he rolls the sensitive nub between his fingers, letting out a groan because it’s only making the need between my thighs increase. “I like it.”

“I don’t.” My head falls back, the brim of his hat gets caught on my stretched arms. “Jameson, I need more.”

“I know you do, baby. I’m going to give it to you, when you’re ready for it.”

“I’m ready now.”

“I’ll tell you when you are.”

I let out a frustrated groan, but then he sucks my nipple into his mouth roughly and it turns into a cry of both pain and pleasure as he draws it in deeper, his teeth grazing the raised bud and I squeal at the sensation.

He lets go with a pop and I look down, but he immediately moves to the other one and does the same thing.

Once he lets go again, I look down to see that my breasts are red and wet with his saliva, and I watch as he drops down onto his knees in front of me.

He looks up to me, eyes dark and primal while he runs his tongue along his bottom lip.

There’s something else there I can’t quite name.

He’s with me, but also not entirely present.

There’s a coldness to him that I haven’t seen before.

Though, as soon as he tosses my leg over his shoulder and his mouth is on me, the hunger in his eyes is all I see as he devours me like I’m the greatest thing he’s ever tasted.

I pull at the restraints, testing their strength because more than anything, I want to grab onto his hair and keep his mouth against me. But I’m completely at his mercy like this. I both love and hate it because I want to touch him, but being unable to is adding to my pleasure.

His tongue flicks against my clit roughly, then he’s pushing it inside me and licking me all over. I’m gasping, bucking against him, and pleading for more.

“I’m so close,” I breathe, trying to push myself against him even more so I can get there. Instead of doing one of the many things he knows that would send me over the edge, he pulls back, and I cry out in protest.

“You’re still not ready yet.”

“I disagree,” I pant, my hips bucking, trying to get him to touch me again. I’m so wet and the mixture of my own arousal and his spit only adds to how badly I want him.

“Try again.” He dives in once again and as soon as his tongue touches my clit I cry out and almost lose it.

I don’t know what he needs from me to show that I’m ready because from where I’m standing right now I feel pretty damn ready to explode. He pulls his mouth away and pushes a finger into me and I moan at the feeling, but it’s still not enough.

“You know,” he starts and I wish even more now that I had access to my hands so I could muffle his words by holding his head against me, but I can’t. All I can do is squirm and whimper as he thrusts his finger slowly, and shallowly. “I think my favorite thing in the world is making you come.”

“Great, you should do that then.”

“But I think watching you squirm and begging for it might be even better.”

I groan, “Jameson.”

“Yeah, baby, you’ll be screaming my name soon. When I let you come it’s going to be on my cock, though.”

“Then give it to me now.”

He adds another finger pushing it into me roughly, and I cry, looking down, watching how he keeps his eyes locked on what he’s doing. The view is almost better than the feeling of those same fingers.

“Why would I do that when I need to taste you some more.” Before I’m able to say anything, his mouth is on me again and I’m close to combusting.

The way he’s able to play my body like an expert every single time he touches me brings tears to my eyes.

Or maybe it’s from the orgasm that’s lingering just out of reach again, or it’s the emotion I’m fighting to suppress.

Maybe it’s everything from the day, from the past week.

It’s all overwhelming me and being heightened by the release that’s about to completely consume me.

When he pulls back again, I scream in frustration. He has a smirk on his face, lips glistening with my wetness.

“Kiss me,” I plead, and that gets him to stand up, crashing our mouths together. I taste myself on his lips, and when his tongue invades my mouth I suck on it, tasting the mixture of us.

I want more.

I need more.

I want to touch him, I want him inside me. I’m losing my mind with the want and need that he’s stirring up inside me.

“Jameson, please fuck me, I need you,” I plead against his mouth desperately, hoping with every fiber of my being that he won’t deny me again.

“I need you too, baby,” he confesses and I hook a leg around his hip, pulling him into me even more. The roughness of his jeans against my sensitive core is almost enough to get me there once again.

“Then take me, please.” I feel a tear fall from my eye at my desperation. I’m so gone for him in more ways than one. I can’t tell him how I feel, he can’t know the extent of my feelings right now. I just want to get lost in him and to let him get lost in me.

He pulls away, and must see the tear; he wipes it away with his thumb. “Why’re you crying?”

I shake my head. “They’re not bad tears, I just…” My voice trails off. I just love you.

“I know, I do too,” he whispers. I wonder for a second if I said the words out loud, but I didn’t. I think he’s just feeling everything just as much as I am, but neither of us can put a voice to it.

He pulls back completely, guiding my leg down, and I think he’s going to go back to teasing me which may actually make me lose my mind. But then he’s unbuttoning his jeans, and pushing them off his legs.

His cock bobs out, hard and pointed directly at me.

My mouth waters, aching to have him down my throat again and my pussy clenches, wanting to be filled by him.

My body craves him in a way I’ve never experienced before, but also if he doesn’t fuck me in some way in the next couple seconds I may scream.

My body is sweaty, and my arms are numb from being tied up for so long. Even my legs are shaky. Jameson steps forward and grabs my thighs, wrapping them around his hips, positioning himself at my opening and I want to cry with relief.

“The only thing better than seeing you wear my hat is going to be you wearing it while impaled on my cock.”

He pushes forward, seating himself in a single thrust and I moan, clenching around him as he fills me in the perfect way only he can. His forehead drops against mine as he lets out his own groan of pleasure.

“How do you do that?” His breath hits my lips, and I try to chase them with my own, but he stays just out of reach.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel like we’re the only two people in the entire world. You are everything to me.”

He pulls back, and thrusts forward roughly again, then kisses me fiercely.

He holds onto my hips as he plows into me while his tongue fucks my mouth.

Any thought I had of holding back my orgasm is obliterated because he rubs against my clit every time he pushes fully into me.

His thick cock filling me so perfectly and his mouth on mine.

The emotion, the words I can’t say, the feeling of being filled by him, it’s all too much. I’m not able to hold back anymore and I explode with a loud cry into his mouth. He doesn’t let up, his thrusts becoming even more brutal as he fucks me against the wall through my release.

“That’s right, baby, squeeze my cock,” he growls.

His words and the way he’s fucking me prolong my orgasm for so long that I’m not sure if it’s just one, or if another one takes over immediately. Tears stream down my face as I buck against him, crying out.

He pushes all the way in once more, groaning out his own release.

I feel the way his cum coats my inner walls and it triggers another aftershock of my own orgasm.

He kisses me as we both come down, breathing heavily, skin sticky with sweat.

He doesn’t leave my body yet, his forehead drops to mine and he looks into my eyes.

The words we leave unspoken are swimming between us.

So much has happened and is felt between us.

It’s all so overwhelming, but neither of us are putting words to it.

“Are you okay?” he finally asks.

“Always.”

And I mean it, but as he separates our bodies I can’t help but feel like he’s pulling away in more ways than one. A chill coats my skin, and I hope I’m wrong, but this felt a lot like goodbye.