38. Paige
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Paige
Time barely ticks by as I wait for seven PM, when Ryan’s supposed to come.
I took three showers today. One in the morning, one when I thought I was getting ready for his arrival, and one when I realized I was already drowning in sweat, courtesy of my nerves.
I’ve also shaved and exfoliated every inch of my skin, not that he ever showed he doesn’t appreciate my natural state.
Something about tonight feels different. Like the thin string of yarn that kept my defenses together has snapped, knocking down the wobbly walls and letting him walk straight in.
The yarn is now crumpled into a ball in my stomach, one that can either be from excitement or terror. Or a little of both. Chewing on my bottom lip, I search my dresser for lingerie. It’s been so long since I’ve worn it, but it has to be around here somewhere.
“A-ha!” escapes me when I find a black lace thong and a bra.
I slip it over my smooth skin, checking myself out in the mirror.
It’s been a while since I saw myself like this, and my vision might deceive me, but I think I look good.
My hips have filled out, and the tiny bra cups look like they actually have something inside.
The burst of confidence twists my lips into a satisfied smile, one that is quickly replaced by shock when my doorbell rings.
My head snaps toward the door before looking back to my closet. A glance at the door, one more glance at the closet. Should I wear something over this?
Opening the door in a see-through lingerie set would be scandalous, wouldn’t it?
“Fuck it,” I mumble to myself.
The newfound confidence gives a swing to my hips, and I feel like I’m on a runway, making my way to my front door. On a deep, steadying inhale, I open the door.
“H-…fuckkk.” Ryan’s gray eyes dart over my body, as if they’re not sure where to settle. His pupils dilate right in front of my eyes, a tick visible in his jaw.
“What’s this?” I ask, noticing the flowers in his hands.
His eyebrows scrunch before he realizes what I’m talking about. “Oh, it’s for you. They’re potted.”
The colorful flowers will probably need to be transplanted in the garden within a week, but the sentiment still warms my insides. I never told him I don’t like the practice of cutting flowers to make bouquets, but he knows me well enough to have made the connection.
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” A chilly breeze washes over me, and I remember I’m practically naked, and my front door is wide open. I retreat to the house, placing the flowers onto my little side table.
“No, you’re beautiful,” he whispers into my ear, prickling my skin with goosebumps. The door clicks behind him, and we’re perfectly still for a long second, my pulse raging in my throat.
His finger moves my hair from my shoulder, revealing the column of my neck. He trails my skin, and my eyes drift closed with the sensation.
“Tell me, Paige. Did you wear this for me?”
“Yes,” I breathe out.
He wraps his hand around my chin, turning my face toward his. His grip isn’t rough, but it’s possessive, showing me I can’t escape, not that I’d want to.
“Do you want to be my good girl tonight?” His eyes are practically black, and my body grows heavy as his words turn me into a horny puddle.
“Yes.”
He brushes his lips over mine, my chin still gripped in his hand. The kiss is too soft, too short, his lips leaving mine right after they’ve connected.
“Good. I love taking care of my good girl.”
His words drip over my skin, pebbling my nipples and sending blood down to my already aching clit. A hand snakes to my back, grabbing my exposed ass cheek, and I let out a gasp.
“Get into the bedroom and lie on your back.”
My pulse thrums in my ears as I do what he says. He joins me not a minute after, missing his jacket and shoes. I’ve never understood the appeal of the gray sweats the internet boasts about until I see Ryan’s cock straining against the thin cotton.
“Already such a good girl for me.” He approaches the bed, and I realize there’s a small gift bag in his hands, one he places onto the bed. “I brought us some presents. But before I show them, I want to know you trust me.”
He looks larger than life, standing at the foot of the bed, fully clothed, while I’m practically naked, my chest heaving on the cool bedding.
He raises an eyebrow. “Do you trust me, Paige?”
“Yes.” The word escapes me sooner than I’m able to realize it’s the truth. I do trust him. There’s not much I wouldn’t let him do.
“And you’ll tell me if anything gets too much? You won’t keep it to yourself?” There’s a seriousness to his gaze, one that shows me how important my answer is.
“I will.”
“Good.” He lowers to dig through the gift bag before extracting a black piece of fabric.
“This is for your eyes.” He stretches the fabric, and I realize it’s a sleep mask.
“This is for your ears,” he tells me, taking out a pair of headphones.
“And this…” He takes out a spool of rope.
“This is for your wrists and ankles. Do you still trust me?”
My chest now heaves with labored breaths as adrenaline courses my bloodstream. “Yes.”
He nods and gets to work. “Sit up,” he instructs.
He uses my position to slip the sleep mask over my eyes, covering my world in darkness.
Next are the headphones; he places them over my ears, shutting out all the outside noise.
Within seconds, a sultry melody starts. Deep but repetitive sounds flood my ears.
I barely notice him unbuckling my bra until the tips of his fingers run over my hard nipples.
A gasp I don’t hear escapes me. Gently, he lowers me back down.
With two senses removed, each touch I feel is heightened.
My breath races no matter how much I try to keep it steady, as he ties my wrists to what I presume would be the bedposts of my bed.
Next up are my ankles, but he first peels my thong down my legs, leaving me fully naked.
My lower lip trembles at the vulnerability of being tied spread-eagle to the bed, unable to hear or see.
That’s just the beginning of the torture he’s planned for me.
I feel a light sensation moving up my ribs, hitching the breath in my throat.
It’s so soft and weightless that it must be a feather.
He caresses my legs and my stomach. I’m pretty sure it would tickle under any normal circumstances, but this is anything but.
Instead, my stomach clenches and my back arches off the bed as he trails the feather over my nipples and then over the mound of my pussy.
The music still rumbles through the headphones, almost overpowered by the sound of my beating heart.
Something warm and wet wraps around my nipples, making me hiss.
His mouth is soon replaced by the feather again.
With my ears and eyes incapacitated, there’s no way to predict what happens next.
I have no idea where he is, what he’s holding, or what the hell he’ll do to me.
The anticipation courses through my bloodstream, dizzying my thoughts and heightening even the smallest of touches.
Another kiss to my nipple, raising my chest toward it. Then the feather again.
Even the feel of his finger trailing down my leg is so unexpected and different from the feather that it becomes the best thing I’ve ever felt.
He plays me like an instrument, exchanging sensations with speed and precision to turn me into a puddle before him.
The first time his finger crosses the already soaked flesh of my pussy, I practically jump out of my confines.
I’m so fucking ready, but he doesn’t let me enjoy it, replacing his finger with the mind-numbing feather again.
A kiss to my neck. A pinch to my nipples.
I can’t hear myself, but I’m pretty sure I’m heaving like a dog in heat, my skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
A quick circle around my clit almost makes me come on the spot, completely short-circuiting my brain. But then he ignores it, making the small bundle of nerves ache with need.
A thick finger slips into me, and I barely escape blacking out.
My noises are probably obscene, but my body is so oversensitized that I’m unable to control them.
He pumps it in and out of me, finding no resistance from my dripping pussy.
Then, once again, he stops what he’s doing, making me let out a labored sigh.
For what feels like an eternity, nothing happens. Neither his hands nor the feather come in contact with my skin to where it starts aching for his touch. Just when I’m about to plead him to touch me, vibrations start on my clit.
“Fuck,” I moan out, my body thrashing on the bed, as much as the ropes allow me.
The buzz is relentless and inescapable, intense to the point of hurting. The slight pang of pain turns to pleasure as soon as it registers. My hips fidget, grinding the small nub over the vibrating toy.
Like magic, Ryan’s voice fills my ears. “That’s it, baby. Give in to me. Fuck, you’re fucking perfect writhing for me.”
I still hear the music, and no other outside sounds, but his voice traveling through the headphones is a tether pulling me toward reality.
“Such a fucking good girl. Meant to take the pleasure, however you can. Look at that gorgeous cunt, begging to be filled.”
I let out a moan.
“You like that, huh? You’d like to be filled?”
“Yes, fuck yes.”
“Not yet, baby. You need to earn it. That perfect pussy needs to earn my cock. Now be a good girl and come for me.”
As if it were just waiting for his approval, my body seizes immediately. The feeling starts deep in my core before making its way to my extremities. My toes curl, my fists clench, and my hips shake with vigor as the waves crash into me.
When they finally ebb, I’m a puddle of flesh on the bed, my body totally spent. My breaths are heavy, but Ryan’s voice fills my ears once again.
“That was beautiful, Paige. But we’re nowhere near done yet.”
I swallow around the nervous lump in my throat.
There’s a minute of reprieve, which I use to catch a breath, but then the buzzing connects to my skin again.
It travels over my breasts, catching on my nipples deliciously.
It trails down my stomach, prickling my sweat-covered skin.
It gets closer and closer to the spot I need it, and just when I’m ready for it to connect to my clit, Ryan removes it.
My mouth opens to protest when a hard, textured surface breaches my opening. It’s cool and ridged and so fucking big that my breath gets stuck in my throat.
“You know what this is, Paige?” He emphasizes his words by turning the vibrations on the toy on.
I shake my head.
“It’s the tentacle dildo. The one I delivered to you.
It seems like it was ages ago when I brought this massive, scary looking thing to the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
” He pumps the toy into me, inch by inch, as it vibrates, massaging my insides in a completely new way.
“I had no idea that the sweet, cute girl in front of me needed to get fucked so bad. That she was a very, very bad girl begging to be good.” The dildo stretches me out as he pushes it further in.
This whole thing is so dirty, his words are so dirty, it should make me sick. Instead, I feel myself dripping down to my sheets, ready to take anything he gives me.
“Do you like it, Paige? Are you so desperate for cock that you’d take this monster dildo, just to have your pussy stuffed full?”
Another moan escapes me, and this time it’s loud enough I hear it regardless of the headphones.
“Say it, Paige.” The buzzing stops and I’m left with my pussy pulsing for more. “Tell me you need your pussy stuffed or I’ll stop.”
I’d love to tell him no. I’d love to be the person horrified by his words. The person I was just a few weeks ago. But as liquid desire courses my veins, I realize I’m not that person anymore.
“I need my pussy stuffed,” I say, and the vibrations immediately switch back on.
This time, they’re stronger, faster, the tentacle deeper inside of me.
I gasp when he wraps his lips around my nipple, sucks it into his mouth before nipping it with his teeth.
He repeats the process on my other breast, eliciting a whimper.
The dildo massages the perfect spot inside me which, combined with the depravity of the whole thing, pushes me right toward the edge.
“Fuck yeah, baby. You take this so well. I can’t wait for you to take my cock. Maybe I should let you watch.”
A moment later, he removes the eye mask and the headphones from my head.
The lights are dimmed, but it still takes me a second to get used to them.
Finally focusing on Ryan, my breath is knocked out of my lungs.
He took his shirt off, so I have a front-row seat to his biceps flexing as he pumps the filthy toy into me.
His sweatpants strain against his hardened cock, a bead of moisture showing me how much he likes what he sees.
And what he sees is obscene. Me tied to the bed, my body slick with sweat as the giant tentacle penetrates me.
Never have I ever even imagined such a thing, but now that it’s here, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
His eyes are dark and wild, and he grinds his hips into the bed as he focuses on me.
His gaze lifts to mine, triggering my release.
My pussy clenches around the toy, unsuccessfully trying to keep it in place, as my orgasm shakes through me.
It’s longer and more intense than the first one, but it still doesn’t leave me sated.
“Seeing you come is my fucking addiction, Paige.” He extracts the cold, silicone helper, and my pussy mourns the loss.
He dumps the toy to the side of the bed and makes quick work of pulling his pants and socks off. He isn’t wearing any underwear, so his cock springs free, standing before me at full attention. His fist wraps around it, gripping it tightly, and angles it at my entrance.
“I have to feel you, Paige. Right fucking now,” he grits out, entering me to the hilt.
My eyes roll to the back of my head as the pleasure overloads my mind.