One Night with Sole Regret 05 Tie Me (10 page)

BOOK: One Night with Sole Regret 05 Tie Me
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She crossed her legs and wriggled her hips uncomfortably. What would he feel like inside her? Did he make love to a woman gently or fuck her unconscious? Sad that she might never find out. “Kellen, don’t say things like that unless you mean to back them up with action. You aren’t the only one fighting for control here.”

His hands slid up the outside of her thighs. “Open your legs.”

Her legs uncrossed and popped open as if they had minds of their own. He stepped forward to stand between her thighs. She knew he was close, though the only part of him touching her was his hands. He caressed her hips and then her back. When his chest brushed the hardened points of her nipples, she gasped.

He immediately retreated slightly, and she forced herself not to crush her breasts into his chest. His terms. This had to be on his terms. He’d better make it worth her while.

“Lie back,” he whispered close to her ear. “I want to get to know your body.”

She obeyed. The cool piano lid was hard against her back and buttocks, but that mild discomfort was soon forgotten.

Dawn sighed as his hands slid slowly over her skin, bumping over curves, valleys, crests and depressions. No one had ever paid so much attention to her form. She thought it might make her feel self-conscious to be so thoroughly inspected from head to toe, but his attention made her feel beautiful. Appreciated. Cherished.

"I thought I'd have to remind you to relax," Kellen said, his deep voice drawing a shudder of delight from her.

"Did you assume that I was always uptight?" she teased.

His hands slid up her calves and gently kneaded her muscles until they were like warm butter. Her thighs fell open in complete surrender. The only part of her that felt any tension was the emptiness between her thighs. Her pussy clenched against the building ache and even though he'd already warned her that this wouldn't proceed to him making love to her, she wanted it to.

Kellen massaged her ankles and the insteps of both feet. "You're not always uptight?"

"Most of the time, I am," she admitted, "but something about you allows me to let go of my inhibitions."

“That’s exactly what you need to do to fully enjoy this. Let go.”

Letting go was surprisingly easy to do with Kellen in control.

“I’ll try,” she said.

"This will be a bit different for me, doing this all by feel," he said. "I'll be careful, but if anything is rubbing your skin raw or pinching you, you have to promise to tell me where. Usually, I can see any hang-ups in my design, but I'm going in blind here."

Her heart thudded faster as she strained to hear the sounds of the rope running through his hands. When the first loop wrapped around her ankle, she tensed. He tightened it so that she could feel the soft cotton against her skin, but it didn't cut into her flesh.

"Dawn?" he said. "Are you sure you don't want to be naked? Once I get started there will be no way to remove your bra and panties."

But her panties were the only thing keeping her fluids from dripping onto the lid of the piano beneath her.

"Is it better with them off?"

"Do you want release or just pleasure?"

Yes!
"Can I have both?"

"I'd like to involve every inch of your body in this." His hand slid up the inside of her thigh, and she nearly shot up off the piano. "I think you'd appreciate a series of knots between your thighs, rubbing against your bare clit, your opening, and your back entrance."

She tried to imagine how she could appreciate knots between her thighs, but came up blank. It sounded downright uncomfortable. "What do you mean, Kellen?"

"I'd rather show you," he said, "but they'll be placed in such a way that minimal squirming should allow you to get off."

It could? What a completely sheltered life she'd been leading.

“If I say yes, will you remove my panties for me?”

He didn’t wait for her to say yes. His fingers slid beneath the elastic at her hips and tugged. He paused so she could lift her bottom and he could pull her panties down over her butt. The piano clanged a protest as her feet pressed into the keys, and he slipped her panties slowly downward. His breath warmed her mound as he breathed deeply.

“You smell amazing,” he whispered, the little gusts of air from his words dancing over her highly sensitized skin.

Her eyes flipped open in surprise when the soft, wet tip of his tongue slipped down between her lips to flick over her clit.

“Mmm,” he murmured.

His tongue traced her inner folds and swirled around her aching opening. Dawn’s back arched off the piano and her hand dove into his hair—so long and silky and still damp from the rain.
God yes, kiss me there
. She forced his face closer, her legs wrapping around his back to urge him closer still.

He pulled away, almost dragging her off the slick surface of the piano as he untangled himself from her limbs.

“I need to hurry up and tie you so I can feast on that pussy for hours.”

“Why wait? I wasn’t stopping you.” Encouraging him. That’s what she’d been doing.

“It’s too easy for me to lose control of myself when you’re free.”

“If you don’t like me pulling at your hair and digging my feet into your back, I can stop.”

“That’s not the problem,” he said.

“Then why did you move away?”

“Because I
do
like it. I like it too much. It makes me want to do more than lick this.”

His fingers slid down her seam and slipped inside her.

“It makes me want to fuck it.”

It
clenched around his fingers eagerly.
Yes
.

“I think I’ve changed my mind about being tied,” she said. If it was that easy to make him lose control, then she’d encourage the hell out of him.

“Then I’ll have to leave.”

Damn. That didn’t work. He really was in control here. But she trusted that he would give her what she needed and more. She was still worried that he wouldn’t get what
he
needed from the experience. Making love should be about give and take, not take and take and take, but if he was willing to give her that much, she supposed she shouldn’t complain.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she said. “I want you to feast on that pussy for hours.”

He emitted a nervous laugh.

“I’d like you to fuck it too, but if you’re not willing to go that far, I’ll try to make do.”

She could hear him taking deep calming breaths through his nose and wondered if she should push him farther. She felt he was at a tipping point and that a little shove would send him falling in her direction. Or might send him away from her forever.

After a moment, he removed the rope from her ankle, pulled her panties free, and slipped the noose around her ankle again, drawing it tight. His hands slid up her leg—altering its angle slightly so that her back and butt were in a more comfortable position on the surface of the piano and her knee in a natural bend. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensation of the rope being run up the side of her calf, around the top of her knee and down the other side. The rope pressed into the sole of her foot, and her toes curled under. Why did that feel so good? She sighed in bliss. He leaned away slightly, working the rope—she could hear the fibers scraping against each other. A knot pressed into her instep. She sighed again. If she wriggled her toes slightly, that knot rubbed at a spot on the bottom of her foot that made her nipples pebble with excitement. She had no idea if he’d intentionally put the knot in exactly the right spot, but she was grateful for the stimulation. She’d expected him to tie her spreadeagle to the piano legs, but apparently there was more to this Shibari stuff than simply rendering her helpless.

His secured the rope at her ankle and then ran his hands up the length of her body. He cupped both breasts through her bra, his thumbs tracing the hardened tips.

“Perfect,” he whispered.

“Take it off.” She wanted to feel the pads of his thumbs against her bare nipples.

“Is it pinching you somewhere?” he asked and shifted his hands to her bound leg, carefully running his fingers over the rope and knots he’d fashioned.

“No. I didn’t mean the rope. I meant my bra.”

“Oh.” He chuckled and a pulse of pleasure converged between her thighs. So now even his laugh turned her on? She was a goner.

“Let me bind your other leg first,” he said, “then I’ll have you sit up.”

He left the free end of the rope dangle from her ankle and picked up another piece of rope to bind her other leg. She had some experience with his motions now, so instead of concentrating on where he was putting the rope and tying it and knotting it, she allowed herself to feel how it affected her body. She most enjoyed the knots between her soles and the piano keys where her feet rested, but the tightness of the ropes on her thighs directed her attention to the open and exposed flesh between them. She hoped he’d do something about that soon; she couldn’t close her legs and squirm as she’d been doing since she’d sat beside him at the breakfast bar and then on the piano bench. Even though he’d taken the edge off with that sweet orgasm earlier, she was hopelessly excited again.

When he had her legs secured the way he wanted them, he ran his hands over the ropes as if checking for flaws in his design. “Does that feel okay?” he asked.

“Feels great,” she murmured.

His lips pressed gently against the inside of her thigh. “Your scent is driving me wild. Will you be able to keep your hands to yourself if I steal a small taste?”

“Yes.” She was lying. Even before his tongue slid sensually over her inner folds, her hands were reaching for his thick, glorious hair.

He moved away before she could latch onto his scalp. He slid a hand between her lower back and the piano and eased her into a sitting position.

“Why did you stop?” she asked, her pussy still quivering from the brief feel of his tongue against her flesh.

“I know if I really get into it, I won’t be able to quit.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Do you trust me to make it good for you?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me do my thing. You still haven’t given up control yet.”

She was letting him tie her up on top of a piano. Just how much control did he expect her to relinquish?

He took the dangling rope ends from either knee and wrapped them around her waist, crossed them behind her back. When he pulled the ropes taut, the action pulled her thighs wide open.

“Ow.” She protested the pull on her muscles. She was stretched to her limit.

“Relax,” he said.

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t sitting on the edge of a hard surface with his legs spread wide in a split.

After a moment, her muscles adjusted and she sighed in relief. Forced yoga. That’s what she felt like she was doing. He tugged the ropes another inch, opening her wider still and then tied the two ropes together just under her navel to hold her in that position.

“I don’t stretch that far,” she protested.

“Yes, you do.”

He slid two fingers over her mound, against her clit and to the exposed, dripping-wet opening farther down. “I was going to put knots between your thighs so you could get your pleasure from the rope.” He massaged her entrance with two fingertips, and she tried to close her legs against the invasion, but her bonds prevented it. “I changed my mind,” he said.

“You’re going to leave me all worked up like this?” She would surely die if he did.

“No,
I’m
going to give you all the pleasure you can handle. A couple of ropes don’t deserve that privilege.”

She wished she could see his expression. Because it was dark, she felt comfortable in being so exposed, but she also felt she was missing out on all the cues he could be giving her.

He shifted and his chest brushed her breasts as he reached behind her to unfasten her bra. Soon her arms would be rendered as helpless as her legs, so she took the opportunity to embrace him. He stiffened but when she did nothing but hold him in her arms, he eventually began to relax. His arms tightened around her, and he just held her like that. His heart thudded hard in his chest, thumping in a rapid staccato against hers. His mouth moved against her hair.

“I shouldn’t,” he said, hugging her closer.

Her hands slid up his back, and she tilted her head, seeking his kiss. His breath warmed her lips. She parted them, her eyes closed, her body completely in tune with his.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

He released her so abruptly, she almost tumbled from the piano. Her arms shot behind her to help her regain her center of gravity.

He immediately grabbed her to keep her from falling. “Sorry,” he said. “I can’t expect you to trust me with your safety if I put you in harm’s way like that.”

“Fine,” she said, glad it was dark so he couldn’t see how watery her stupid eyes had become. “You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to.”

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” he said. He found her face in the darkness and cupped it between his hands. “I haven’t been alone with a woman since Sara. I didn’t realize how much I needed Owen with me as a spotter.”

The ache in Dawn’s chest lifted, and she laughed. “A spotter? You’re not bench-pressing me, Kellen,” she said. “Just touching me.”

“But there are things a woman expects that I won’t deliver. Kissing, for example. Owen handled that part.”

“I didn’t know, or I wouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s not fair to you. I can’t expect you to abide by my weird little rules.”

“Maybe you should tell me what those rules are, so I’m less likely to break them. I’m trying to understand you, Kellen.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you.”

“Fuck.”

She stiffened, and her temper flared to life. “Sorry you find my affection so revolting.”

“I don’t. I find it wonderful. And tempting. And scary as hell. I like you too. More than anyone before Sara,” he said. “Or since.”

So she was in second place after a dead girl? She supposed it was a start. What would it take to climb to the top? She needed to be first. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not this week or this month. But someday. Someday she wanted to be Kellen’s number one. She just needed to not mess this up before then. Unfortunately, her mouth often spontaneously said things she regretted.

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