Page 129 of The Christmas Trap

I swallow. "I’m good."

Some of the tension seems to slide from his shoulders. He bends his head and brushes his lips over mine. I open my mouth, hoping to invite his tongue in, wanting to feel him consume me. But he merely smiles.

"Not yet." He kisses my chin, then my nose, then my cheeks before he steps back. He reaches behind him and pulls off his T-shirt. He shucks off his sweatpants, revealing his erect cock.

It juts up against his stomach, the vein at the bottom of the length throbbing. The head is purple with drops of cum clinging to the slit. He stands there with his arms at his sides and lets me have my fill of looking at him. He’s so impressive, every part of him finely sculpted. Every dip and hollow filled with echoes of his masculinity. Everycrevasse between the cut muscles a reminder of his mastery over my body.

He prowls forward until he stands next to me on the bed. There’s satisfaction on his features as he surveys every inch of my body. I should feel vulnerable tied as I am, with every hole in my body exposed for his inspection. But I feel anticipatory. I feel secure in myself. Knowing he wants me.

He may have not said it aloud, but his actions have made it clear how much he needs me too. It’s what gives me the confidence to tip up my chin and meet his gaze.

"Look at you all laid out for my delectation." He reaches over and flicks a nipple.

He may as well have slapped me for the shock waves which radiate out from the point of contact.

A low keening cry spills from my lips. It sounds feral in intonation. Marking me out as someone who’s human in form but who’s darkest deepest desires have been drawn out in a whirlwind of emotions.

"Damn baby, the sounds you make will be the death of me." He flutters his fingers down the lines of ropes which dig enough into my skin to mark me. They don’t hurt me, but every time I shift as much as my restraints allow, they warn me of their presence. Remind me that he’s the one who tied me down. That he’s the one I obey.

He reaches my belly button and lowers his head and licks into the hollow. It’s both a sweet and an erotic touch. He drags his whiskered chin down to the delicate skin bared by the ropes above my pussy. Goosebumps pop on my skin.Ohgod. Ohgod.

I writhe in anticipation and in ecstasy.

The desperation inside me builds and spirals into a vortex threatening to draw me under. My fingertips tremble. I want so much to touch him. To dig my fingertips into those rock-hard muscles. To feel the strain of those shoulders, the tightness of his chest planes, the throb of his arousal as I wrap my fingers around his length. He reaches my exposed pussy and when he blows on it, I orgasm.

It’s a sharp, straight ride to the top, and then a shattering orgasmthat kicks the bottom out from under me. I shudder and shiver and groan as I recover from it.

"You’re so incredibly sensitive." His voice is awed.

I look down to find him staring at me with a worshipful look in his eyes. And as if he was waiting for me to meet his gaze, he flicks out his tongue and swipes at the pulsing bud in my center.

Warmth bursts through my veins. My eyes roll back in my head. I don’t have the energy to cry out. So I set my jaw and content myself with a violent shudder.

He grips the underside of my thighs and lifts them up, then licks up between my pussy lips. The fact that I’m tied down amplifies the pleasure a hundredfold. I tremble like I’m a leaf caught in the wind. Like the branches of a tree bending under heavy rainfall. The sensations fill me, pour through me, filling up my veins. Turning my blood into gasoline. And he’s lighting the spark that zips up my spine. "I can’t take this, I can’t." I moan.

In answer, he slides two fingers inside me, curving them, touching my G-spot and I come again. This time it’s a slow gentle release of the tension that’s built inside me. If it weren’t for the bindings, I’d dissolve into a pool of melting flesh. He brings his fingers to my mouth, and I suck on them.

"Fuck." He swallows. I take in his flushed features. The sweat that clings to his temples. He seems on the verge of coming undone.

He leans up fitting the blunt head of his cock to my opening, then with one thrust he slides inside of me.

"Fuck," he growls.

"Oh, Brody," I groan.

He stays there balanced on his arms, biceps trembling, massive chest heaving. The sweat clinging to his beautiful shoulders. "You feel so fucking good." The cords of his neck stand out in relief. "Seeing you all wrapped up in my knots, and ready and open to take everything I give you makes me feel like a fucking god."

The emotions in his voice, and the sheen in his eyes are a shock. This is the closest he’s come to revealing how he feels for me.

Apparently, kink is the way to get to this man. Declarations of love aside; the physical act of tying me up is his kryptonite.

"Take me. Use me for your pleasure,” I gasp.

He seems to stop breathing at that. His gaze turns molten. A mix of fire and water, and all five elements of the universe seem to come alive in his eyes.

"Goddamn, wife, you’ve made me your slave for life with that declaration." He bends his head and kisses me sweetly. More tenderly than before.

His lips are soft and coaxing and when I part mine willingly, he surges his tongue inside and both of us catch fire. I strain against my bindings wanting to wrap my arms around him. But then in that eerie way he has of reading my mind, he wraps his arms about me and presses more of his body weight on me, almost smothering me.