Page 143 of Just One Look
He said, “No.”
She said, “It aches. In my chest. I want so much, and I don’t think I can have it.”
He said, “Do you want to stop?”
“No.” There was a tear rolling down her cheek, and his heart twisted hard. “I want you to make it better. I want you to show me how … how you …”
His heart. He couldn’t stand this. He had both hands around her head now, was kissing her so gently, trying to tell her. He said, “How I love you.”
Her shoulders jerked. A sob, that was, but she wasn’t letting it out. She nodded, and he said, “Do you want me to tie you down and play with you hard and tell you that I won’t let you go?”
A hitch in her breath, and she said, “Yes.”
So he did. He took her upstairs. He tied her wrists over her head. He shoved a couple of pillows under her hips, spread her legs, and went to work on her with his hands and his mouth and his insistent tongue. He took her to the point of orgasm over and over again, and stopped short every time. Until her legs were shaking, and then until her whole body was. Until all she could do was call out, the words broken. Until the only thing in her mind was what he’d do to her next. And then he turned her over, put her on her knees, ran his hand over every one of those straps, stroked her bottom, stroked it some more, and said, “You’re beautiful. And I want to spank this.”
She shuddered, and he said, “I need a yes. Or a no.”
“Yes,” she said, and shuddered again. “Please. Do it. Do it a little … hard. Please.”
He did it, and she jerked against the rope and moaned and trembled and called out loud, so he did it a little harder. And then he pulled the strap of that thong aside, shoved himself inside her, and did it some more, until she was making some real noise, pushing into him, practically coming just from that spanking. He pushed a lubed finger slowly into her backside, and she arched her back, squirmed, and said, “Ohhh,” on a long, long sigh.
He said, “Are you ready?”
She said, “It feels … too good.” A moan. “And I’m … please, Luka. Please.”
“You need to come?” he asked her. One hand on the back of her neck, now, because he could.
“Yes.” It was a sob. “Yes.”
He took her in just about every way there was, stopping every time she got close, then starting up again in a different position. Flipping her, then flipping her again. On her knees, so he could hold her by that perfectly warmed backside, and know that her skin was still tingling from his hand. On her back, with him shoving her knees open wide so he could go deeper. Bent over the bed on her tiptoes, holding the edge of the mattress with her bound hands, her legs shaking. He kept her tied for all of it, and she bit her lip, called out, and did everything he told her to. And finally, when she was on her back again and he was lying perpendicular to her, his hand running over the backs of her arms as he held them overhead, as he kissed and played with breasts he’d long since freed from the low cups of her bra, and then sucked hard at them …
Her hips were rising, and she was writhing when she said, “Luka. I can’t stand any more. Please let me come. Please.”
He said, “Do you want to use your safe word?”
Her dark-sapphire eyes opened, blind with desire and need. Her mouth was open, too, panting, until she said, “No.” He smiled, and she said, in that soft accent that drove him wild, “Luka. Fuck me. Please. Hold me tight and fuck me hard, and don’t stop this time, because I can’tstandit.Please.”
He licked his way up to her mouth, kissed her some more, tightened his grip on her arms, and said, “Spread your legs farther apart.”
She did it. Hands over her head. Legs open, arse propped up on those pillows. In all that strappy, buckled lingerie, and those stockings. Wearing it all for him, and all of her displayed for him, too.
He didn’t touch her. He just looked at her.
He said, “You’re mine, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, on a sobbing breath. “Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“I’m yours,” she said. “I’m yours. You can … do anything you want to me. Luka. Please. I’m yours.”
He held her down. He fucked her hard. And when she finally came, she shook all over with it. It went on and on, the waves crashing over her, through her, while she bucked under him. While she wailed. While shecried.
And, maybe, she believed.
* * *
They were under the covers,all of her clothes off at last, and Webster curled up at the foot of the bed, probably thinking,Finally.Luka’s arms around her, stroking her body, soothing her. Her bottom still tingled when he ran his hand over it, and her whole pelvis ached, because she was still so engorged. And she was what she’d told him. Boneless. Worn out.
