Page 70 of Lights Out

I felt him take a deep breath, all the warning I had before he let out another low groan and leaned in, fastening his lips around my clit. He swirled his tongue across it and then sucked. I shuddered, and he gripped my hips harder and slid his tongue lower, lapping at my entrance. From the slick sound it made, I was even wetter than I realized, damn near dripping for the man.

“You taste incredible,” he said, slipping his tongue as deep as it would go.

My body tried to clamp down on it involuntarily, seeking resistance, needing something bigger and harder filling it up. He angled it and stroked back out in a way that had my toes curling before he circled my clit again. Then his lips clamped down, and he sucked, and I dug my fingernails into my palms, probably leaving half-moons in my skin from how hard I wassqueezing my fists. This was amazing, but I needed more. Shallow stimulation wasn’t going to do it for me right now. He either needed to keep those lips where they were or let me sit on that knife.

I blinked. Yup. I just had that thought.

As if he could sense my need, Josh sucked harder, and I lost the ability to think at all. My head fell back, cuffs digging into my wrists as I strained against them. I wanted to reach out and thread my fingers into his hair, hold him in place against me while I rode his face. Maybe if I used some self-defense moves, I could takehimto the ground instead. Unfortunately, with my hands shackled, there were only so many I could perform right now, and none of them ended with me straddling his face.

A pop sounded as he released me and went back to stroking his tongue over and around my clit. One of his hands shifted from my hip, sliding across my thigh before snaking between my legs. He teased my entrance with his fingertips, coating himself in slickness while his tongue laved at my sensitive bundle of nerves. I was so desperate to feel something, anything inside me, that I nearly sobbed as he pushed two big fingers in.

God, that felt good, and if he kept this up, it would be more than enough to get me off.

He crooked his fingers inside me in a “come here” motion like he’d used earlier, hitting a spot that left me gasping.

“My leg will give out if you do that again,” I warned.

He pulled his mouth off me just enough to whisper. “Then you should take a seat.”

Oh, lord. This was happening. I was about to ride a knife handle while blindfolded and handcuffed. I should have been petrified, but all I felt was anticipation of what was to come.

Fingers still inside me, Josh let go of my hip and guided my leg off his shoulder. I felt steadier back on two feet. Right until he crooked his fingers again, and my knees wobbled. He tookadvantage of my unbalance by putting his shoulder into my pelvis. Caught off guard, I tipped forward. His fingers slid out of me, and he wrapped his arm around the back of my thighs and stood with me sprawled over him like a sack of potatoes.

It shouldn’t be sexy. It really shouldn’t. But the fact that he hefted my weight like it was nothing made me go all mushy inside. I was a bigger woman, tall, broad, muscular. Part of me had always been jealous of those videos of petite women getting picked up by their partners, and inside, I was squealing that it was finally my turn.

He took a few steps and dropped back to one knee to set me on my feet.

“The corner of the bed is right behind you,” he said. “I’m going to guide you down. The knife handle has a thick guard on it, and the blade is stuck deep enough that it shouldn’t move, but I’m still going to keep a hand under you, both as a barrier and to hold it in place.”

“But your hands are hurt,” I said.

“I like the pain.”

Oof. That declaration was as hot as it was fucked up.

“Okay,” I managed, barely above a breathless whisper.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he told me, stroking his fingers through my folds once more. I gasped as he clamped them around my clit, having flashbacks to the edging. “This pussy belongs to me now, Aly, and I protect what’s mine.”

And they said the perfect man didn’t exist.

“Yours,” I agreed.

He made a masculine sound of approval and released his hold on my clit so he could place both hands on my hips and push me gently backward. I took a cautious step and then another, stopping when the back of my knees hit the bed.

“Sit. Slowly,” he said.

I did as he bade, grateful for all the leg workouts that gave me the control to manage this. It was just like a tempo squat, where –

Oh, Jesus. That’s cold!

The rounded tip of the knife handle pressed against my folds just shy of my entrance, and I shifted forward enough that I was properly lined up. Here went nothing. Taking a deep breath, I lowered myself onto it. It was different than the vibrators I was used to. For a start, it was colder. So cold that my inner muscles clenched around it in protest, and I had to pause for a second before my body heated it enough that I relaxed and could keep going, only to repeat the process. It was also stiffer, unforgiving inside of me as I sank all the way to the mattress. As promised, Josh’s warm hand was there waiting for me, the handle sticking up between his fingers, his palm pressed to my clit when I settled.

I let out a shaky breath, adjusting to the feel of an honest-to-God knife handle buried hilt-deep in my pussy.

Josh released an equally loaded exhale, and I knew he must have felt some kind of way because he forgot to modulate his tone. “You’re a fucking goddess, Aly.”

I recognized his normal voice instantly. I fuckingknewit was him.

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