Page 7 of Wicked Player

“John?” I asked when all I heard was the thundering of my own heartbeat.

“There’s so much I want to do to you I was having trouble deciding what to start with first.”

Oh God. Yes. My entire body tightened with expectation.

“Roll over and crawl to the headboard. Hands at the top.”

I’d never moved so fast in my life. I scampered into position and a rush of breath left me as his hand grabbed mine. A cold leather band was tightened around my wrist.

“So you don’t get any ideas,” he said, and that teasing tone was back. He moved around me and fastened the other. The bed dipped and my head fell. God what I wouldn’t give to see this man. I could come by his words alone and a few teasing touches. My nipples ached, hardened points and he hadn’t touched them yet. I should have asked. I expected his hand at my ass. Lips on my thighs. I jumped as I felt him brush against my legs and his voice came from beneath me. “Spread your legs wider and lower yourself.”

“Oh God,” I moaned. He was beneath me. His hands on my thighs.

Before I had time to comply, those hands pulled me down and I was on him. His mouth moved instantly and fiercely. There was no preparation, no warm-up, teasing flickers of his tongue at my slit. No, not with John. His mouth consumed me, eating me. His tongue pushed inside of me and his hands gripped me tight against him so there was no way I could move. I couldn’t shift or roll my hips. I couldn’t pull away. I could only succumb.

This damn man. He didn’t wait to earn my submission, he took it.

I’d never been more enthralled.

A fierce fire hit me hard and fast. The beautiful kind that started at my stomach, spread outward until it pulled at my inner thighs. My muscles shook like I’d run a marathon and that heat rolled up my spine. The sounds I made were animalistic, tortured and pleasured mixed together in moans and whimpers. Words were lost to me as I abandoned any hope of decency.

Chants rolled from my lips. Nonsensical ones. Vowels formed. Consonants forgotten as my orgasm hit me. So fast. So damn fast and hard my body shook and rolled with it and even then he kept at me, sucking my clit into his mouth until it ached.

“Please,” I gasped. I meant to tell him to stop. It was too much. Instead I begged for more as his hand on my hip moved, and then two fingers were shoved deep inside of me. He fucked me roughly, wildly, in a way I had never been fucked before and knew would never be again.

Shit. He was ruining me and he was only using his mouth and fingers.

“Give me one more.”

“I don’t know if I can.” I was breathless. So close and yet fighting it. If I could see him, his chin would be drenched from me. His mouth was wet and slippery. I was wetter.

“You can.” And as if to prove it, his hand slid to my back, down through my crease. His thumb put pressure at my hole, and that was all it took. Between the friction of his mouth, the delicious zing of pleasure at my backside, it took barely anything and I was doing exactly what he told me to.

The orgasm swept through my body with hurricane-force winds. I threw back my head, hair hitting my butt and right as I was coming down, he was up and behind me, his chest against my back, his hands at my wrists.

“You’re fucking beautiful. Magnificent, Beth. How much more do you have in you?”

“None.” I was breathless. Shaking. I needed a nap for two weeks and physical therapy to recover from everything he’d given me.

A fierce burning hit my ass and I jumped from the force of his spanking. “Now I just don’t think that’s true at all.”

“Oh God,” I whispered.

He undid the buckles at my wrists and somehow, he was tender as he rubbed where the leather had tightened around them.

“Hands okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” Words were useless. I could barely nod.

“You’re doing great.” He was still whispering. Still being so tender and gentle. What man could be so rough and gentle?

“Let your arms down slowly, your shoulders might be stiff.”

“It’s not my shoulders that are stiff,” I grumbled as he moved us. He laid me down and rolled me to my back.

He went straight to my thighs and parted them, kissed the inside, close to my center. “Poor little one. I can kiss it and make it better.”

I huffed a laugh. It was all I had in me. “I think you’ve kissed it enough.”

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