Page 119 of Trick Shot

“I said,” I repeat softly, “arms up.”

“So bossy.” He obeys, his eyes dancing with heat and amusement.

Those massive, tattooed arms rise above his head. I tie him to the headboard, tight and secure. The lace is stretched to its limit over his wrists.

He lies there beneath me, restrained and watching.

“Look at that,” I whisper, dragging my nails down the center of his chest, tracing the tattoos. “The big bad hockey player… all tied up for me.”

His hips jerk beneath me. The tension in his arms ripples down his torso, his cock straining beneath the fabric.

“What are you going to do?” he asks, breathless.

I grind down once, letting him feel the heat between my legs.

I lean in close, mouth hovering above his.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I whisper. “But I do like you like this.”

I sit back slowly, letting my fingertips drag over his abs as I slide down his body. My hips roll once more against the thick outline of his cock.

He groans, closing his eyes. High on the effect I have on him, I move without hesitation, sliding down his body.

I pull his shorts down, exposing more of his abdomen, black fabric dragging over tensed muscle and inked skin. I tug them lower until his cock springs free, almost hitting me in the face.

Oh my god.

It pulses once, a thick vein runs along the underside, splitting into smaller ones. His head is pink, thick, and glistening with precum.

My mouth waters. I’ve never done this before, but God, do I want to.

I lift my hand and hesitantly wrap it around him, my fingers barely closing over the thickness. I’m not sure I can even open my mouth this wide.

I stroke him once, slow, watching how his stomach tightens under my palm.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

“Do you know how good you look like this?” I whisper, voice trembling with nerves and raw hunger. “Tied up and helpless.”

“Jesus Christ,” he grits, jaw tight, biceps bulging against the lace restraining his wrists. “Don’t—don’t fucking tease.”

“Now I get to taste you while you can’t do a thing about it,” I murmur, and slowly drag my tongue along the length of him. I reach the tip and run my tongue across it, savoring the feel of him on my tongue, licking up his precum. It tastes like sin—slick, salty, and divine.

“Untie me,” he pants, eyes closed. He twitches in my grip, and I feel something spark deep inside me. Power, lust, and curiosity. I want to see how far I can push him. I want to watch this man, three times my size, fall apart because of me.

I pull back, hand still stroking him slow, fingertips sliding through the slick at the tip and dragging it down his shaft.

His hands curl into fists above his head, every muscle locked tight.

“Will you behave for me if I untie you?” I ask sweetly.

“Not a fucking chance,” he growls.

Heat spreads down to my clit at his tone.

“Then I’ll just have to undress myself,” I murmur, leaning back so he can see every inch of me.

His eyes flare, locked on mine. “Melody…” It’s half warning, half worship.