Chapter 6 Elena
CHAPTER SIX
elena
We agree to switch the reins every time we make each other come–or every half hour, whichever comes first. Literally.
My competitive nature has me wanting to get him off as quickly as he did me.
The mouth on that man should be illegal. I thought with his hands bound, I’d be able to hold out longer.
I was wrong.
I untie him and he wastes no time binding me to the bed. Both my wrists are bound over my head and the slack is tied to the top of the headboard.
“Spread wide, spitfire,” he commands, standing beside the bed.
I do as I’m told, and he remains standing, staring.
My body heats at his perusal, the flames following the trail his eyes burn across my chest, down my stomach and straight to my bare pussy.
I was certain I’d be on my knees swallowing his cock. But my cowboy is full of surprises.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he says gently. “It’s disarming. I have so many positions I want to put you in.”
My nipples ache as the air conditioning kicks on.
“Put me in all of them,” I say, hoping he will.
He chuckles darkly from above me. “I almost feel bad about the filthy things I want to do to you.”
“Do them. Please.”
He moves to the foot of the bed. “Are you begging, baby?”
“I can.” Happily. “If you don’t touch me soon, I might cry.”
He stares hard at me. “Once I start touching you, I’m going to have a hard time stopping.”
“Fuck stopping.”
He trails his fingers lazily around my ankles.
I add, “Helps if you start first.”
I’m about to combust.
He grins and gives my calf a squeeze. “Anything off limits? Anal? Spanking? Choking? Speak now, baby. While you can.”
Self-preservation should kick in. He’s a stranger. I’m restrained.
It doesn’t.
My pussy clenches, then drips with need as my gaze drops to his huge erection.
“Nothing,” I mumble, slightly nervous I’ll freak him out like Diego. I swallow thickly, shoving the memory of telling Diego to hurt me, to punish my tight greedy holes, only for him to freak out and stop and get dressed like he was in a timed competition.
“Loud enough so I can hear you,” this man says, his voice taking on an authoritative tone.
“Nothing is off limits,” I say clearly, lifting my chin. “I like for it to hurt before it feels good. I like punishment and pain makes me come.”
It hits me then that I’ve never admitted this out loud to anyone before. How much I need to feel. Confessing my deepest desires to a stranger seems odd at first but then it clicks.
I’m never going to see this guy again. I can be messy. I can be wild. I can be whatever and whomever I choose.
It’s the freest I’ve ever felt—kind of ironic since I’m literally tied to this bed.
He doesn’t have any expectations and even if he does, it’s not like he can break up with me if I don’t meet them.
“Good girl,” he says, and the acceptance in his eyes, the want in them, has me spreading wider. He squeezes my ankle, hard, and I jump.
He arches an eyebrow. Then moves his hands upward, massaging firmly as he goes.
“You know, you made me wait while you showered. Stripped me, tied my hands. Then made me watch you wash that perfect body while I couldn’t touch you.
Couldn’t even stroke my cock for relief.
” He crawls onto the bed, his hands kneading their way up my body.
They reach my inner thighs and I whimper.
“All I could think about was how badly you needed to be punished for making me wait.”
I’m shaking. But not in fear. In excitement. In anticipation.
“Then punish me.” I meet his burning glare. “I deserve it.”
His lips quirk up on one side. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”
Before I can speak, he’s up and untying the reins from the bed post. I gape at him, trying to figure out what’s going on, but I don’t have time to speak before he’s wrangling me off the bed.
With my wrists now bound in front of me, I’m maneuvered roughly to the small dining table beside us. He lifts my arms over my head, then a flat palm on my back presses downward until my face and bare breasts are against the cool wood.
“Hold tight to the table and do not move. Understood?” His voice snaps like a whip.
“Yes, sir,” I answer instinctively, doing as I’m told.
“Good girl.”
A sharp stinging pain hits my bare ass with a loud smack.
Rough hands, my mind catalogues. I love rough hands.
“That’s for making me wait to taste you,” he tells me, before landing another solid blow to my other cheek. “That’s for playing with the shower-head before I got my mouth on your pussy.”
My body jerks in response, one foot lifting slightly off the floor. A soft cry leaves my lips.
Another hard spanking stuns me silent.
“That’s for moving when I told you not to.”
The playful guy with the twinkling eyes from the bar is gone and this man is dangerous. And hitting me much harder than I thought he would.
I love it so much my arousal is running down my thighs.
And then he’s on his knees behind me, kissing everywhere he spanked. Softly, slowly. Suctioning his lips to the burning flesh and soothing it while setting me on fire.
When his tongue slides up the seam of my ass I nearly pass out.
My knees buckle. He steadies me. “Oh baby. You moved. That’s another spanking.”
He spreads my ass with both hands and I feel it. A hot thick wet tongue against the only virgin hole I have. A strong solid finger enters my pussy.
No one has ever been inside my ass, not even with a finger. This man tongues it like a dessert.
I try not to panic but there are so many overwhelming sensations at once, I can’t think.
Thank God I showered earlier.
He’s eating me from behind, fingering my pussy and tonguing my most private place until I’m shaking so hard I can’t stand.
He rights me, lifting me by my hips, then drags his tongue up my spine and bites my neck.
It’s not hard enough to break skin, but his teeth press deeply into my flesh.
If he turns out to be a serial killer, I might not even care as long as we do this until I die.
Another solid spanking but I barely feel it. My mind is spinning. Then I hear it.
My own voice. Begging. Pleading. Shamelessly.
“Fuck me. Please, please fuck me.”
A dark chuckle in my ear. Then I’m yanked upright by my bound wrists and turned to face him.
“Get on your knees.” No term of endearment, just the harsh command.
I’m dizzy with need, so I go down wobbly. But once I’m eye level with his enormous hard on, my mind clears.
I lean in to take him in my mouth, but he grips my hair and pulls me backward.
Frustrated and confused, I look up at him helplessly.
“Kiss me sweetly, spitfire,” he says softly. “Until I ask for more.”
This motherfucker. He’s toying with me.
That’s fine. I can give as good as I get.
I cannot wait until it’s my turn with the reins again. I’m going to ride his face and dick until he begs for mercy.
I do as I’m told, swiping my tongue out to lick his tip tentatively. His pre-cum is both sweet and salty at once.
He holds my hair tightly still, a slight tug at my scalp stinging in the most wonderful way.
I kiss his cock like I’m in love with it. Slowly. Sweetly. Then I swirl my tongue around the tip.
He groans and his grip on my hair loosens. I flatten my tongue and lick the underside of him from base to tip. Then swirl my tongue again. And suck only the head of his dick.
“Take it all in, baby,” he commands. “As far as you can go.”
I don’t have a gag reflex. Never have.
So I take him into my throat.
It’s his turn for his knees to buckle and it’s deeply satisfying.
Hollowing my cheeks and pulling back like I’m trying to suck his soul out through his cock, I let his dick free with a loud smacking sound.
“You okay, cowboy?”
He stares down at me like he’s seeing a mirage in the desert.
“Fan-fucking-tastic. Do that again. Just like that.”
I comply, but this time I pump him into my throat a few times, forcing my esophagus to contract around him in a swallowing motion.
The low guttural groan he emits makes me happier than it should.
When I turn him loose, he pulls me abruptly to my feet.
Worried I’ve done something wrong, I lift my eyes to his.
“Sorry, I just wanted to—”
“Never apologize for that,” he interrupts. “New rule, never apologize for anything you do while we’re fucking.”
I smile softly. Something tight in my chest loosens. His lips lands on mine and I let him drink from my mouth until I need oxygen.
He has the perfect tongue. Sweet, warm, laced with whiskey and me. I’m not usually big on kissing, but this man is a make out master.
He kisses my chin, my neck, then each of my breasts.
My nipples are so sensitive I almost come again when he sucks them into his mouth.
The pinch of pain is exhilarating as hell.
He seems to realize this and squeezes my breasts with both hands while alternating sucking my nipples until I’m nearly coming again.
My hands want to rake through his hair, but they’re still bound.
He lifts me suddenly, setting me on the table I was bent over not long ago. He spreads my legs wide then shoves my feet up so my knees are bent beside me. It’s hard to remain upright like this but he holds me, then lowers me so my back is against the table and I’m staring at the ceiling.
His mouth makes its way downward, biting my nipples gently, teeth scraping down my tummy, tongue swirling my belly button, then diving into my pussy once more.
He lavishes attention on my clit, switching between licking it and sucking it until I’m twitching on the table.
The sounds coming from me aren’t human. I hear them as if they’re being made by a dangerously feral creature nearby. But I can’t be bothered to care.
He licks me clit to ass then back again over and over until I’m mindless.
I can barely form thoughts, much less words when I hear him tearing open a condom wrapper.
“Tell me what you want, spitfire,” he demands. “Because I had planned to bring you here and fuck you sweetly like the princess you appear to be. But you surprised me. You want it rough?”