Chapter 17 #2
“Yes, any bondage is dangerous,” she replies, the explanation slightly more clinical, but still making my need grow stronger. “But if you feel painful tingling or your hands get cold, use your safe word and I’ll cut you free.”
Someone I couldn’t trust wouldn’t say this. A contract kidnapper or killer wouldn’t make me feel this safe, this cared for, this loved.
Right?
By the time she has both my hands tied over my head, I still don’t have the answer. But the hunger in her eyes erases any other thought than please from my mind.
“Now for the fun part,” she says with a smile that could kill me.
From her apparently boundless back pocket, she produces a thin, black object that I can’t see clearly in the limited light. That is, until she clicks a small button, and silver flashes in front of me.
My heart jumps into my throat. Every inch of my body is frozen, even the blood pumping through my veins.
This could be it, and it would without a doubt be my fault.
I run my tongue over the cap on my molar, feeling for the loose spot that I can easily dislodge.
The capsule hidden in the back of my mouth is my last resort, if I have made a grave mistake.
This amount of poison wouldn’t kill her immediately, but hopefully it would make her sick enough to distract her while I freed myself.
I can use the stars to swim back to shore. It’s not ideal, and being in the ocean at night with little visibility isn’t something I’d recommend, but I would have a better chance at surviving the open water than on the boat with someone so much stronger than me.
Even now, I don’t feel afraid.
There must be something wrong with me. But as the knife glints in Emily’s hand, reflecting the moonlight pouring over us, I feel it in my bones. She won’t hurt me.
Still, it's good to have a backup plan in case I’ve lost my mind.
Emily holds the blade closer to me, and my heart rate picks up another notch.
I shouldn’t be turned on. I’ve seen first hand what a simple fishing knife can do in the hands of someone adept and skilled.
And clearly, with the way she rotates the hilt between her fingers, Emily is.
But there’s no denying the slickness between my legs as she catches the collar of my tank top on the tip of the blade.
“I promise, I’ll buy you three to replace it.”
She drags the blade downward, pulling away from my body as she goes and splitting the fabric of my top in two.
The sea air hits my overheated skin, spreading goosebumps across my flesh like wildfire.
With a few more simple cuts, she’s reduced the shirt to shreds of fabric, and I’m bare from the waist up.
Emily resheathes the blade and returns it to her pocket, all the while tracing every inch of my exposed flesh with her gaze.
“I want to see all of you,” she says, not like a request but like a warning. With my arms above my head, I can’t help or stop her as she pulls my jeans and underwear down my legs.
Emily repositions herself so she’s on her knees on the floor of the boat.
With me sitting on the higher ledge, it puts her in the perfect position to devour any part of my body she wants.
I close my thighs, not because I don’t want her to see what she’s tasted a dozen times before, but in an effort to relieve a fraction of the pressure already building in my core.
“None of that,” she admonishes, and I can’t stop the whine that escapes from my lips as she pushes my thighs open, the cold bringing a sharp edge to the mounting pleasure.
“I love seeing you like this.” Emily’s voice feels distant, like she’s in another world, as I feel her drag the tips of her fingers up the back of my thigh. My muscles tense, my hips rolling forward to meet her hand, but she pulls away right before she touches me where I need her.
“Please,” I hear myself beg, tilting my head back against the bars and pulling against my restraints, savoring the feeling of the soft rope biting into my skin.
“What do you want, Pecas?” she asks, the nickname rolling off her tongue like syrup. She told me what it meant the day she first used it. Freckles, she explained as she drug her tongue across the constellation on my shoulder.
“It’s too much,” I repeat, my skin so sensitive it feels like I’m on fire. Especially where she touches me, on my thighs, my ankles, my hips.
“And that’s what you need. Too much.” As if to emphasize her point, she digs her nails into the skin of my hip, leaving marks above my ass. “Isn’t that right?”
“I need whatever you give me,” I plead, meaning every word. I need her to be in control, to be allowed to lose my grip on reality and know she’s there to hold me up and bring me back when the time comes.
“Such a good answer from such a good girl,” she praises, my behavior earning me a gentle circle of her fingers over my clit.
I’m still flushed from my first orgasm, slightly overstimulated, but it feels so good I can’t find it in me to care.
She pauses for a moment, watching the way my hips roll against her fingers, chasing more.
Without another word, she grabs the back of her tee shirt and pulls it over her head, leaving her in a tight-fitting, low-cut sports bra that makes me want to be the one tracing her skin with my tongue.
She taps my hip, and confused but obedient, I leverage myself to lift them as she slides the shirt underneath.
“Didn’t want to hurt that perfect ass,” she says, grinning when I use it to slide closer to her, so I’m perched right at the edge of the ledge. “Well, not that way.”
The thought of her hand marks on my ass drives another wave of lust through my body, and I wonder how much I’ll have to beg for her to touch me again.
“Emily, I need you,” I admit, shivering as she pulls one of my nipples between her fingers and rolls gently.
“I know.” A pinch, this time harder. I pull on my restraints as a cry out again, feeling my empty pussy clench.
“And what if I want to fuck you rough? Make you soak my hand and come until you cry? And once you’re satiated and overstimulated, put you on your knees in front of me so you can say thank you? ”
I nod a thousand times, hoping her threats are promises.
Two fingers slip into my entrance almost immediately, coupled with the feeling of her mouth on my nipple.
She isn’t gentle, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin as she fucks me at a ruthless pace.
Two fingers become three as she crooks them upward, stimulating a place within me even she hasn’t touched before.
Everything feels shaky, like I’ve touched the third rail and every molecule has become electrified.
There isn’t enough air in my lungs, and my vision hazes at the edges as a new kind of pleasure settles deep in my bones.
The pressure in my lower abdomen intensifies a hundred fold, and I pull harder against the ropes to feel the bite, to let it ground me when I feel like I’m floating above my body.
“Emily, it’s…I…”
She doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow, let up, give me any semblance of relief. I’m climbing to a peak I’ve never reached, different from the ones she's brought me to before, and I know it’s going to shatter me to fall off the edge.
And shatter I do. The pressure releases, and I soak her hand, just like she told me I would.
She doesn’t stop, moaning her approval as she continues to dole pleasure to my breasts and pump ruthlessly into my pussy.
I feel like the orgasm will never end, a freefall of epic proportions that leaves me struggling for words, for thoughts, for air.
I close my eyes and swim in the feeling, crying out into the night a string of words that are mostly her name.
Finally, finally, when my body slumps against the railing and my bones feel liquified, she stops.
For a few moments.
My eyes snap open when I feel her hot mouth on my pussy, her tongue dragging from entrance to clit.
She closes her mouth over the bud and sucks, and I really scream this time.
The pleasure of her mouth is buried under overstimulation and pain, but somehow it’s still good, and I’m not sure how that’s possible.
“You make such a pretty mess for me, Pecas,” she says, licking her way up my pussy again. Her words, the groans of pleasure, the way she grinds her hips against the side of the ledge to get some relief—it all makes the pain worth it.
“I can’t again,” I say, not sure if I mean it or not. But she doesn’t seem worried, sucking on my clit again. “Please Emily, it’s too much.”
“I don’t care that you think you can’t,” she replies, her fingers replacing her lips as she circles me, her spit and my cum creating a slick surface for her work.
I close my eyes against the discomfort, focusing on the ecstasy beneath.
“You said you wanted to take what I can give you, and I’m going to make you keep your promise.
I need you to come on my mouth before I use yours. ”
Черт, I want to do that so badly, it pushes my body deeper into the pleasure.
I know it’ll take much longer this time, but Emily doesn’t seem to mind the work.
She doesn’t touch herself, but her moans tell me she’s enjoying herself as she lets me grind my clit against her tongue, forcing myself closer and closer to yet another release.
It’s more drawn out this time, the orgasm starting in my toes and spreading throughout my body like it’s infecting me, cell by cell.
My back arches, lifting my hips off the tee shirt-covered deck and harder against her mouth.
My throat hurts, and I realize it’s from crying out her name as I let this pleasure consume me, drown me, pull me into depths far more terrifying than the ocean below us.
I’m gone from this mortal plane, my soul hovering above my body like it’ll distance me from the Earth-shattering feeling I just experienced. I groan as Emily undoes the rope holding up my arms, massaging my sore wrists and shoulders.
But the night isn’t over.
Emily bears most of my weight as she walks us to the cockpit and settles me on my knees in front of one of the benches.
My head still feels floaty and distant, but I’m conscious enough to watch Emily disrobe, tossing her boots and socks, work pants and underwear and sports bra, into a distant corner before sitting in front of me on the bench.
I’m mesmerized by her body. Lean and muscular, soft and forgiving, all at the same time. She contains everything in one frame, surpassing my previous understanding of beautiful.
She angles her body so her ass is on the edge of the seat, similar to how I was positioned a few minutes ago. The movement exposes her pussy to me, just as wet as I was too.
She may seem nonchalant and unaffected while I’m writhing beneath her, but this is evidence enough that she needs me exactly as much as I need her.
“Show me how you say thank you.”
I don’t need further invitation.
Instantly, I’m buried against her, copying the motions she performed on me in a desperate attempt to please her.
Her fingers lace into my hair, pulling so hard it makes me cry out against her.
She maneuvers me to exactly where she wants me, barely moving her hips, wordlessly telling me that I’ll have to work to show her how grateful I am.
“Two taps on my thigh if it’s too much,” she says, demonstrating with her free hand. “But you won’t need it, will you, pretty girl? You love being used by me.”
I do, I say inside my head, sucking harder on her clit instead of voicing my assent. She keeps my face pressed close to her with her hand in my hair, and I angle my chin so I can press two fingers inside her.
“That’s it, Pecas. Be exactly what I need.”
Fucking her like this is otherworldly. She tastes so good I could spend days on my knees in front of her, letting her fuck me and use me to come however she wants.
I wish it would take hours. I want to be here all night, feeling her clench around me as I work her toward a fraction of the pleasure she provided me with.
Emily comes, praising me with every word that comes out of her mouth as she rides out the orgasm I gave her.
Taking cue from her, I don’t let up, licking and sucking and pumping into her until she physically pulls my face away from her body.
My lips and chin are covered in her wetness, and she pulls me up toward her, leaning down so we’re mere centimeters apart.
“Use your safe word,” she demands, her lip barely brushing mine, the ghost of my pleasure on her mouth. I feel for the cap with my tongue, relieved to find it unbroken.
Because I want this too.
“No,” I say, relishing the feeling of her grip tightening in my hair.
“So fucking difficult,” she sighs, and then her lips collide with mine.
I didn’t think, after everything we’d done—the touching, the lying, the fucking, the vulnerability—that kissing her would be the thing that pushed me over the edge of trusting her.
But her tongue is in my mouth, and we taste like each other, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’s the only person in the world I can actually trust. She cut my restraints free.
She embraced me in my vulnerable state and gave me everything I needed and more.
And no matter what she’s been hiding, I know she was right. She will protect me.
And I’ll find a way to protect her.