Chapter 49 Emily #2
I hollowed my cheeks, working him with my tongue, and his grip in my hair tightened as a low groan rumbled through his chest. His breathing had gone ragged, his control clearly fraying at the edges.
“Emily.” My name came out rough, desperate. “Fuck, you feel incredible.”
I could feel him getting closer, the way his thrusts became less controlled, the tension building in his body. But then he was pulling back, sliding free of my mouth with a sharp intake of breath.
“No.” His voice was wrecked, hand trembling slightly as he cupped my face again. “Not yet. Not like this.”
He bent down, hands sliding under my arms to help me to my feet. My legs were shaky from kneeling so long, and I swayed slightly as blood rushed back into them. He steadied me immediately, one arm wrapping around my waist while the other hand cradled the back of my head.
“You okay?” His eyes searched my face, checking, always checking.
“Yeah.” I was floating on waves of bliss. “Still emerald.”
A laugh huffed out of him. “My artist.” He kissed me again, softer this time. “I’m not done with you yet.”
He stepped back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, and I watched hungrily.
The broad planes of his chest, the definition of his abs, the trail of dark hair leading down from his navel.
He kicked off his jeans and boxer briefs in one smooth motion, and then he was completely bare before me.
God, he was beautiful.
He moved back into my space, his hands settling on my hips. “Come on.”
He guided me toward the end of the bed, turning me so my back was to him. His hand pressed gently between my shoulder blades and I let him bend me forward until my chest rested on the mattress.
The position left me completely exposed, my ass in the air, still wearing nothing but those black lace panties. He dropped to his knees behind me and I felt his hands on my ankles.
More rope. He worked quickly and efficiently, securing my left ankle to the bedpost, then my right. When he was done, my legs were spread wide, the position making my muscles stretch and burn in a way that somehow added to the arousal thrumming through my body.
I tested the restraints instinctively, tugging against the rope at my wrists and ankles. There was no give. I was completely immobilized, bent over the bed with my legs spread and bound, unable to do anything but take whatever he wanted to give me.
The thought made me clench with need.
“Color?” His voice came from behind me.
My thoughts were scattered now as I tried to catalogue the feelings rioting inside me. “Chartreuse.”
His laugh was soft and warm, his hands sliding up the backs of my thighs. “I fucking love you.”
The words washed over me, barely registering through the haze
His fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties and dragged them down as far as the rope at my ankles would allow.
Then his hands were on me, spreading me open, and I felt the first brush of his fingers against my pussy. I was already soaked and when he slid two fingers inside me easily, I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped.
“So fucking wet,” he murmured, working his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm. “You love being tied up for me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
His thumb found my clit and I jerked against the restraints, the pleasure almost too intense. He kept fingering me, kept working my clit until I was writhing against the mattress, desperate for more.
Then his fingers were gone and I felt his breath against my pussy. His tongue dragged through my folds in one long, slow lick and I nearly came apart right there.
“Cam.” His name was a plea.
He didn’t answer, just kept licking and sucking, his tongue circling my clit before dipping down to thrust inside me. He ate me like he was starving, like I was the best thing he’d ever tasted, and I could do nothing but take it, bound and helpless and climbing higher and higher toward release.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, when I was right on the edge of coming, he pulled back. I whimpered at the loss, my hips trying uselessly to chase his mouth.
I heard him stand, felt the heat of his body behind me again. His hands gripped my hips and I felt the blunt head of his cock press against my entrance.
“What color, sweetheart?”
“Viridian,” I gasped. “Cam, please.”
He pushed inside in one smooth thrust and I cried out at the sudden fullness. He was so deep in this position, hitting places that made my vision blur. He didn’t give me time to adjust, just pulled out and thrust back in, hard and deep.
“Is this what you need?” His voice was tight with strain. “You need me to fuck you until you can’t think anymore?”
“Yes.” I was already close, the orgasm he’d denied me with his mouth building again rapidly. “God, yes.”
He set a brutal pace, his hips slamming against my ass with each thrust. The sound of skin on skin filled the room, mixed with my moans and his ragged breathing.
I couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but take it, and the helplessness combined with the overwhelming pleasure pushed me right over the edge.
The first orgasm crashed through me and I screamed his name, my body convulsing around him. But he didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down. He just kept fucking me through it, extending the pleasure until I was sobbing with the intensity.
“That’s one,” he growled, his grip on my hips tightening. “Give me another.”
I didn’t think I could. My body was already wrung out, oversensitive, every nerve ending firing. But he adjusted his angle slightly and suddenly he was hitting that perfect spot inside me with every thrust.
“Cam, I can’t, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” His hand slipped between my thighs, adding a relentless, circling pressure to my clit that offered no mercy. “Come for me again, Emily. Let go.”
The added pressure managed to short-circuit my brain completely. It was too much friction, too much heat, and too much him. The dual sensation pushed me over a cliff I didn’t know existed. My body bowed against the mattress, fighting the restraints, but there was nowhere to go but to pieces.
“Fuck, that’s beautiful.” His voice was wrecked. “One more, sweetheart. Give me one more.”
I was gone. There was no room for insecurity or fear, only a wash of vibrant, blinding color behind my eyelids. It was like standing in the center of a splash painting, chaotic and beautiful and all-consuming.
He was relentless, his hips pistoning as he fucked me harder, faster. His fingers never left my clit, working me with the same steady pressure that had already made me come twice. My body was shaking, overwhelmed, but the pleasure kept building impossibly higher.
“Come on, sweetheart. Give it to me. I want to feel you fall apart one more time.”
The third orgasm didn’t crash over me so much as detonate.
Every muscle in my body seized as pleasure whited out my vision and scrambled my brain.
I heard myself screaming but couldn’t stop, couldn’t control any part of my response.
I was completely undone, shattered, remade in the space between one heartbeat and the next.
I felt Cam thrust deep one final time, felt him pulse inside me as he came with a groan that was torn from his chest. Then his weight was against my back, both of us gasping for air, both of us trembling with aftershocks.
“Holy fuck,” he breathed against my shoulder. “Emily. Jesus Christ.”
I couldn’t respond. Couldn’t form words. My brain had completely short-circuited, leaving nothing but blissful emptiness and the feeling of being absolutely, perfectly used.
After a long moment, he carefully pulled out and I whimpered at the loss. “Sshh,” he murmured. “Hold on, sweetheart. Let me get you untied.”
His hands were gentle as he worked the knots at my ankles, murmuring soft reassurances I couldn’t quite process. When my legs were free, he carefully helped me stand upright, supporting my weight when my knees threatened to give out.
“Easy. I’ve got you.”
He turned me around and I swayed into him. His fingers worked the rope loosening each knot with the same care he’d used to tie them. When the final loop fell away, my arms dropped heavily to my sides, muscles protesting after being held in place for so long.
“Let me see.” He took my wrists gently, examining the red marks there. His thumbs traced over the indentations with a feather-light touch, his brow furrowed with concern. “Does it hurt?”
“No.” My voice was hoarse, wrecked. “Feels good.”
He made a low sound and lifted my wrists to his mouth, pressing kisses to each mark. I felt something warm and overwhelming that I couldn’t name through the haze of endorphins flooding my system.
“Come here.”
He guided me onto the bed properly this time, laying me down on my back before disappearing into the bathroom.
I heard water running and then he was back with a warm washcloth, cleaning between my legs with gentle efficiency.
I should have been embarrassed but I was too blissed out to care, too floaty to do anything but lie there and let him take care of me.
When he was done, he climbed into bed beside me, immediately pulling me into his arms. I went willingly, tucking myself against him and letting out a long, shaky breath.
“How’re you doing?” His hand stroked up and down my spine in a soothing rhythm.
“Mmm.” It was all I could manage. My brain felt like cotton, soft and fuzzy and incapable of forming complete thoughts.
“That’s not a color, sweetheart.”
A laugh bubbled up. “Jade.”
“Jade?” He sounded amused.
“Light green. Soft. Good.” I could barely string the words together.
“Jade works.” His lips pressed against my forehead. “You did so good, Em. So fucking good for me.”
I hummed in contentment, burrowing deeper into his warmth. Every muscle in my body felt loose and heavy, like I’d melted into the mattress. The usual chatter in my head had gone completely silent, leaving nothing but a peaceful, drifting sensation.
His hand continued its slow path up and down my back, occasionally detaching to rub gentle circles on my shoulders or trace patterns on my arms. Checking in without words, making sure I was okay.
Something was trying to surface through the fog in my brain. Words he’d said earlier, important words, but I couldn’t quite grasp them. They slipped away every time I tried to focus, dissolving back into the warm haze of post-orgasmic bliss.
It didn’t matter. Not right now. Right now, there was just this: his arms around me, his heartbeat under my ear, the delicious ache in my muscles and the rope marks on my wrists that I could still feel.
I let my eyes drift closed, let myself float in the safety of his embrace. My breathing synced with his, slow and deep and easy. The last threads of tension I’d been carrying for weeks, maybe years, finally released their hold.
For the first time in longer than I could remember, my mind was quiet. Peaceful. Free.
And I was exactly where I needed to be.