Chapter 12
GAGE
It’s impossible to remain unaffected though, when she looks so damn beautiful spread out on my bed, waiting for me, her skin hot with the flush of her recent release, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her glistening cunt spread open.
My cock aches in the confines of my jeans, and I reach for the button and pop it, then drag down the zipper, giving myself some relief.
I shift back up over her and kiss her softly. “Was that so bad, Bishop? Giving over control to me?”
She shudders against me and shakes her head, returning my kiss languidly. A slow, gentle glide of our lips together. Nothing hurried. Nothing forcing her to want to rush through this and run.
“You won’t say it though, will you, Hellcat? Won’t admit how good it felt for me to take control.” Her body tenses slightly, and I nip at her bottom lip. “It’s okay. You don’t have to. But I need to know, do you trust me enough to let me push it further?”
Her pupils dilate again, zeroing in on me. “How?”
It’s a simple question, but the fact that she’s even asking it, even considering allowing it, is enough to make me almost come on the spot.
I slide back off her to my feet and make my way over to the closet. Her eyes follow my every step, half-lidded but alert.
Curious.
Maybe a bit nervous.
I snag one of my ties and dangle it from my fingertips as I walk back toward her.
She pushes herself up on her elbows, brow furrowing. “What is that for?”
“Fun…”
I nod behind her toward the wooden headboard with the slats that will allow me to keep her hands secured there. Her gaze widens, but what flares in the depths of those bourbon eyes isn’t fear; it’s heat. Interest. Something I wasn’t so sure I would get from her.
For someone whose life is so tied to her need to control everything, giving up even a second of it must be agonizing for Bishop. Yet, she doesn’t outright dismiss the suggestion.
Maybe it’s the fog of the orgasm still clouding her mind, or maybe that wall has cracked the tiniest bit, enough for her to see through to the light on the other side and what’s waiting for her if she only accepts it.
I kneel on the bed beside her and drag the silky material across her bare stomach and up over her breasts, pausing before it hits her mouth. “Well, what do you say? Do you trust me to control this?”
The look she gives me suggests she’s going to say no, and I wouldn’t blame her if she did.
I’ve kept things from her.
Important things.
Things she should know.
And she’s observant enough to realize that.
But I’m hoping she’ll also understand what I’m doing and, more importantly, why. Letting go in this setting, allowing me to lead and control it, will take a huge weight off her shoulders that she doesn’t know she’s carrying.
She hasn’t even been able to let go with anyone she’s had sex with, and that’s a true shame for a woman like her who carries so much raw sexual energy and pent-up tension.
I want to see it snap.
I want to see Bishop Clarke truly fly free from the burden of everything crushing her, even if only for a few moments.
If she’ll let me…
Bishop pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, eyeing the tie directly in front of her and then glancing back up at me. She searches my face for a moment, as if she might somehow see the answer she seeks if she looks hard and long enough.
Finally, she gives me a sharp nod. “Yes.”
I don’t think she truly does trust me.
At least, not fully.
Bishop trusts herself and the fact that she’d be strong enough to get out of any bonds I could put on her if she really wanted to. Not to mention that even with her hands tied, the Jiu-Jitsu moves she knows could have me at her mercy in only a few seconds if she needed to using her legs alone.
Part of me wants that.
To make her desperate.
To push her to the brink.
I grin at her as I reach for the headboard and secure the tie, then motion for her to shift back.
She crawls back toward me until her head hits the pillow, her long braids spread out across the dark-gray fabric like a dark halo on a woman who is as much an angel as she is the devil on my shoulder.
I trail my fingers across her cheek, down her throat, over one of her pebbled nipples, along her stomach, until I reach her hand. Goosebumps erupt everywhere I touch, and by the time I wrap the silky material around her wrist, she’s trembling.
She reaches out and grabs my wrist with her free hand. “What if I want out?”
“Then I let you out. But it won’t be at the word ‘stop’ because I plan on doing things to you that may make you say that word when you don’t mean it.”
“A safe word, then.”
I grin at her. “Your choice.”
She chews on that lip, watching me as she considers her options. Her pulse beats rapidly under my fingers. “Ricochet.”
Like how I feel every time she looks at me. As if she’s fired straight into my chest and the bullet is bouncing around wildly, slamming into my ribs and lodging in my heart.
I bark out a laugh, and the tiniest smile pulls at her lips.
“What?” She raises a dark brow. “It’s something that would never come up in this situation, right?”
“I would certainly hope not. But that’s a little too long.” I lean down and kiss her again, taking my turn to bite that lip of hers that keeps having me imagining what she would look like with my cock there. “We need something short. One syllable. Because you may be breathless…”
She sucks in a sharp breath at my warning, pressing her thighs together in a way that just makes me even more intent to get back in between them. “Umm…then how about we keep it simple? Red.”
“Red it is…”
I drop another kiss on her lips, then secure her other wrist together with the first so her palms are together and arms are extended above her head.
Looping it through the headboard, I ensure the knot is tight and won’t budge.
She tugs at the binding, but I know the soft, silky material won’t cut into her skin, no matter how hard she might fight it.
Christ, she looks beautiful tied to my bed.
And maybe slightly uncomfortable, but I would expect nothing less from a woman who is used to having her way. Who is used to being in control in every single aspect of her life. Especially this one.
We both know that she still is. All she has to do is utter a single word and I’ll release her. But not having to make these decisions. Allowing me to direct her pleasure by securing her hands will give her something she can’t get any other way.
Freedom.
I grab the hem of my T-shirt and tug it up over my head, tossing it to the floor with the rest of the haphazardly discarded clothes. Her eyes roam over my shoulders, my chest, my arms, taking in all the ink scattered across it.
Her gaze dips to follow my hands as I shove down my jeans and my cock springs free. They widen at the sight of it and the metal balls traveling up the length. “What the hell is that?”
Fighting a grin, I brush my fingers over them. “A Jacob’s ladder.”
All the breath rushes from her lungs as she stares at it.
“Trust me, Hellcat. It’s for your benefit.”
She squirms and presses her thighs together as I grasp my length and stroke it slowly, gliding my fingers across the head to spread the precum there.
Fuck.
It’s been so long, and I’ve wanted this woman since the first time I saw her, even more after getting to know her.
I climb onto the bed and nudge her knees open, fully exposing her to me again. “Are you on birth control?”
“Of course, I am.”
“Have you been tested?”
She gives me an incredulous look. “Of course.”
“So have I.” I lock gazes with her. “So, do I need to grab a condom out of my drawer, or can I feel your hot cunt on my cock and allow you to feel this the way it was intended?”
“Fuck.”
Squeezing her eyes closed, she shifts restlessly, tugging on the binding.
She wants it as badly as I do, to truly feel all of me, and what it ultimately comes down to is how much she really does trust me.
If what she said a few moments ago was true, or merely bravado and not wanting to back down from a challenge.
Because I do trust her.
Bishop isn’t a bullshitter.
She isn’t a liar.
She isn’t the type of person who would ever go to bed with me and lie about something this important. Her integrity means too much to her. Just like mine used to not that long ago.
Her eyes flutter open and zero in on me stroking my cock. A little groan slips from her throat. “I want to feel you.”
Fuck.
Those words are sweeter than any other ones I can remember ever hearing.
I shift closer to her, dragging the head of my cock through her slick core, and she groans, her hips bowing up in offering. That little brush with her heat is enough to make my length throb in my hand.
All it would take is one little thrust to have the head inside her and one, long, slow glide to allow her to know what being with me really feels like. How good my piercings will make it for her.
But I brace myself over her, feathering my lips across her breasts and along the column of her neck, to her mouth again, kissing her hard and deep, until she begins undulating under me.
She rolls her hips against mine, urging me to enter her, but I hold steady with just the head of my cock pressed where she wants it.
“If you thought I was done with you, that I had gotten enough of your taste, you’re dead wrong, Bishop. I’m going to make you come at least once more that way, maybe two or three more times, before I finally fuck you.”
That’s a fucking promise I intend to keep, no matter how agonizing it might be for me…
And her…
She gasps, tugging at her bindings, and I grin against her lips.
“No”—she shakes her head—“I’m too sensitive. Too—”
I release my cock and drag my thumb across her engorged clit, and her hips buck.
“Fuck…” She clenches her teeth, the muscles in her throat straining.
“I’m going to do it, Bishop, until you’re a quivering mess and begging me to take you, but remember, all you have to say is one word to make it stop. If that’s really what you want.”