Chapter 29 #2
His eyes meet mine, dark and desperate. "I want my hands on you. I want to bury my fingers in your hair and guide you. I want to feel your skin."
"But you can't," I say softly. "You have to trust me to take care of you. To give you what you need."
I see the moment something shifts in him. The fight leaves his shoulders, and his breathing evens out slightly. He's starting to understand.
"That's it," I whisper, rewarding him by taking him back into my mouth. This time, he doesn't fight it, just lets himself feel. His moans fill the room, low and rough.
I work him with my mouth and hands until he's trembling beneath me, his hips making aborted little thrusts, fighting to maintain control even now.
"Skye," he warns, voice strained. "I'm close."
I pull away, crawling up his body until we're face to face. His eyes are wild, pupils blown, with a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead.
"Not yet," I whisper against his mouth. "I'm not done with you."
He makes a noise that's half groan, half laugh. "Is this payback for all the times I've edged you?"
"Maybe." I smile, reaching behind him to check the cuffs aren't too tight. "How does it feel, being at someone else's mercy?"
"Fucking frustrating," he admits.
I cup his face, searching his eyes. "But do you trust me?"
He holds my gaze for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. "Yes," he says quietly. "I trust you."
"Then let go," I whisper, positioning myself over him. "Let me take care of you."
I sink down onto him slowly, both of us groaning at the sensation. His eyes roll back as I take him completely, my body adjusting to his size. The feeling of being filled by him, of having him at my mercy while I'm completely open to him, is intoxicating.
"Jesus, Skye," he breathes, his whole body taut beneath me.
Moving slowly, I set an unhurried, deliberate rhythm. His hands clench into fists above his head, the cuffs preventing him from touching me the way he desperately wants to. I can see the war playing out across his face, the need to control battling with the pleasure of surrendering to my pace.
I lean down to capture his lips, my hair falling around us like a curtain. "This is what you do to me," I whisper against his mouth. "This feeling of being completely at someone's mercy. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once."
His eyes lock with mine, pupils blown wide. "I never understood before," he admits, voice ragged. "How much strength it takes."
"To submit?" I ask, circling my hips in a way that makes him groan.
"To trust someone enough to let go."
Something warm blooms in my chest at his words. I increase my pace, riding him harder now, my hands braced on his chest. His muscles strain beneath my fingertips, the veins in his forearms standing out as he pulls against the restraints.
"Skye," he warns, jaw clenched tight. "I need to touch you. Please."
I slow my movements, studying his face. The raw need in his eyes, the way his entire body trembles with restraint–he's completely undone, and it's beautiful.
"Color?" I ask softly.
"Green," he gasps. "But I need... I need to feel you."
I lean forward, pressing my chest against his, letting him feel the full length of my body against him even as I keep his hands bound. "You can feel me," I whisper. "I'm right here."
"It's not enough," he groans, his hips bucking up into me involuntarily. "I need my hands on you. I need to know you're real."
The vulnerability in his voice makes my heart clench. "Please," he groans, and the word sounds foreign on his lips.
Reaching behind him, I release one of his cuffs. The moment his hand is free, it's on me, gripping my hip with bruising intensity. His other hand remains bound, a compromise between my control and his need.
"Thank you," he breathes, fingers digging into my flesh as I move again.
His touch grounds me, reminds me of who we are together. I ride him slowly, deliberately, watching his face contort with pleasure. With his free hand, he traces patterns on my skin, from my hip to my breast, cupping its weight, rolling my nipple between his fingers until I gasp.
"Look at you," he murmurs, voice rough. "So fucking beautiful, taking what you want."
I increase my pace, chasing the building pressure inside me. His hand slides between us, finding my clit with unerring precision. Even with one hand bound, even at my mercy, he knows exactly how to touch me.
"That's cheating," I gasp, but I don't stop him. The circles he's drawing with his thumb are too perfect, too necessary.
"Is it?" His lips curve into that wicked smile I know so well. "You never said I couldn't touch you once you freed my hand."
I laugh through a moan, my rhythm faltering as his skilled fingers work their magic. "Always finding loopholes."
"Only when it makes you feel good," he counters, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through my body.
I lean down to kiss him, our mouths crashing together with desperate hunger. Even with one hand still restrained, the power between us shifts and flows like a tide, neither of us fully in control anymore. This is what we've always been–a perfect balance of give and take.
His fingers press harder against my clit, circling with maddening precision. I feel myself climbing toward release, my thighs trembling on either side of his hips.
"That's it," he encourages, watching my face with hungry intensity. "Let go for me, Skye."
"Together," I manage to gasp, clenching around him deliberately.
He groans, his hips bucking up into me as I tighten around him. "Fuck, if you keep doing that..."
I do it again, watching his control fracture. His free hand grips my hip harder, guiding my movements as I ride him. The pleasure builds between us, electric and overwhelming.
"I can't hold back much longer," he warns, his voice strained.
"Then don't," I whisper, leaning down to bite his earlobe. "Come with me."
His thumb presses harder against my clit, and I shatter around him, crying out as waves of pleasure crash through me. He follows immediately, his body going rigid beneath me as he empties himself inside me with a broken moan of my name.
I collapse against his chest, both of us breathing hard. For a moment, we just hold each other, his free arm wrapped around me while his other arm remains stretched above his head, still cuffed to the headboard. Our hearts beat against each other, gradually slowing to a steady rhythm.
"That was..." he trails off, seemingly at a loss for words.
I lift my head to look at him, pushing sweat-dampened hair from my face. "Too much?"
His eyes are softer than I've ever seen them. "No. Perfect."
I reach up to release his other wrist, gently rubbing the reddened skin where the cuff had been. He flexes his fingers, then wraps both arms around me, holding me close against his chest.
"I never thought I'd enjoy being on that side of things," he admits quietly.
I trace patterns on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. "And?"
"And I think I understand you better now." His hands stroke my back. "But I'll sponsor your membership from now on."
I lean up, brushing my lips across his. "You sure about that? Because that's kind of a big deal."
"I've never been this certain of anything. I want your submission, Skye. All of it. That includes protecting the space you thrive in."
I curl into him, warmth blooming in my chest. "Then it's yours. My membership. My submission. Me."
He kisses my temple. "Good. Because I don't want to share you. Not even a little."
I smile into his skin. "I thought you might say that."
We don't speak after that. We don't have to. Our bodies say everything. And for the first time in days, I feel whole again.