Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
“I’d tell you to climb on the bed, but you can’t,” he mutters with amusement. He pushes me back and slides me up the bed, sitting me up when I’m in the center. He kneels behind me and puts his hands on my waist. “Kneel up.”
I lift myself up and he moves forward. His knees are between mine—together, where mine are wide apart. He releases my waist and grabs the bottom of the camisole. He pulls it over my head in one swift, easy movement. My breasts bounce free, settling in front of me.
One hand flattens on my stomach. “Back down. Slowly,” he breathes into my back.
I close my eyes at the feel of his cock nudging my opening. Yes. This is what I want. I want to feel him inside me, stretching me, filling me. And he does. Slowly, I lower down and he pushes up, our bodies meeting and fusing together.
Tyler moves my hips, guiding me up and down, his fingers digging into my skin. He doesn’t move, leaving me riding him, taking him deeper and deeper every time until he’s buried completely inside me.
My breathing quickens. I want to reach back and grab his hair, grab his head to steady myself. The fact that I can’t intensifies this experience to an out-of-this-world standard. I feel the restraint everywhere. Somehow, by binding my hands this way, he’s bound my whole body.
I can’t do anything other than exactly what he wants me to.
Even on top of him, riding him hard, I’m not in control.
I haven’t had any control at all. And I…like it.
“Do you trust me?” he whispers in my ear heavily.
“Yes,” I reply on a quiet moan.
He stills my hips. One of his arms wraps around my shoulders and he kneels up—pushing me forward. He eases me down slowly until he’s on his knees behind me and my shoulders and cheek are flat on his bed.
“You have a gorgeous arse,” he mutters, taking one cheek in each hand. He drives into me with the same timing as he palms my ass.
He’s deeper this way. Harder. Hotter. I can’t push up. I can’t push against him. I can’t do anything except let him thrust into me. His movements increase in speed until I’m begging him to come, begging him to let me, begging him in incoherent sentences and breathy moans.
He grasps my hips yet again and slams into me, his skin slapping against mine, and I cry out loudly. Each of his movements now is fast and hard and relentless. The end goal—pleasure—is all that matters in this moment.
And in a swirling cloud of pressure and helplessness and heat, it consumes me. Body and soul, I give myself over to the intense high rushing through my veins and causing me to tremble.
When it subsides and I can think clearly again, I feel Tyler’s forehead against my lower back. He reaches between us and undoes the scarf around my wrists. My arms fall limply to my sides, and I crawl them up the bed and under my head. My breathing is heavy and Tyler’s is the same.
We’re both totally spent, so we lie here, him still buried inside me, and catch our breath.
After a few minutes, he sits up and pulls out of me. “The bathroom is next door, if you want to use it.”
I nod my head and push myself up. I pull off my heels, remembering that they’re still on. My arms feel so weak, and it takes all my balance to not stumble as I walk into the white-and-blue bathroom.
I clean myself with some toilet paper and perch on the edge of the bath. A moment away, just one, is what I need. To center myself—something that doesn’t feel possible.
“Stay.”
“You know I can’t.”
“I have a spare room. Stay there.”
“Don’t.” I hold my hand up to him. “Don’t push this and make it more than what it is.”
“Offering you a bed to sleep in for the night isn’t turning it into something more,” he replies, buttoning his jeans.
“It’s barely eight o’clock. I think I’ll be okay to go home.”
Tyler stops in the middle of the front room and stares at me. “Fine. But I’m calling you a car.”
“I would hope so.” I snatch my panties from the floor and hold them up. “Because there isn’t a chance in fucking hell I’m walking through the streets of Seattle with no panties on.” I scrunch them into my fist, ready to put into my coat pocket.
A smirk stretches across his face. I raise my eyebrows, grab my heels, and stroll into the front room with them dangling from my fingers. I fetch my coat from the hall and tuck my panties inside the pocket before buttoning it up. It would be more than a little embarrassing if they fell out.
“That was the first time, wasn’t it?”