Page 58 of Fighting for Her Heart
I reach the small off his back, and he moans, and then I continue, letting my tongue slide down until it’s lathing the sides of the crack dividing his clenched ass cheeks that are quivering with tension as he stands.
Stepping off the bed and dropping to the floor, I continue my exploration, using both my fingers and tongue, until I’m down to his ankles, leaving no part of his back or legs not fully investigated and caressed.
I’ve lost track of time, but suspect that an hour may have passed when I reach for the two lengths of rope and fasten one around each of his ankles, making sure my knots are tight.
“Careful,” he says, nearly panting. “Even without a feeding, if I become fully aroused I will hurt you.”
Glancing around his trembling body to his erection, it’s hard for me to imagine him being more aroused. I slide my hands over the length of his legs, once again enjoying the hard shape of them.
“Pain and pleasure don’thaveto go together,” I say softly.
The things he did to me in the cave demonstrated to me how pain and pleasure can exist simultaneously, but tonight I plan to prove he can have one without the other.
“Tonight is about pleasure,” I say softly. “Your pleasure. We don’t even have to have sex. My only objective is to make you feel good.” I lick the top of his ass crack.
His head drops forward—his first real movement since this started—and he groans. “I appreciate your efforts and intentions, but—”
“But nothing, Zuben.” Standing, I slide my hands up his back. “No more talking, just concentrate on my touch, on my voice.”
“Mmmmm.” His low utterance vibrates into my hands as I caress his back, and then I tug lightly on the rope around one of his wrists. “Come. Lie down on the bed.”
He lets me guide him onto the mattress, and then I slowly position him spread eagled, easing each limb to where I want it and then tightly securing the end of each of the four ropes around the legs of the bed.
I’ve given him a bit of slack and I’m pretty sure that Zuben’s vampiric strength would let him snap the ropes, or break the bed into pieces if he wanted, but I’m hoping it won’t come to that. I’m praying that he’ll feel restrained enough to relax and won’t try to escape his bindings.
His cock, standing straight up, is visibly throbbing now, and his whole body is tense, but it’s his face I want to tackle first. Straddling his chest, I slowly caress his forehead, his scalp, his cheeks. He truly is one of the most objectively handsome men I have ever seen in the flesh.
“Your bindings are not tight enough to hold me,” he says, testing them. “This is not safe.”
“Shhh. No talking.” I don’t want to gag him.
“If I become too aroused,” he says tightly. “I will lose control and injure you.”
It’s hard to imagine him becoming more aroused than he looks to be now, but Zuben is used to dealing with intense discomfort. I’d like to try to replace his fear of arousal with the anticipation of pleasure.
“You won’t hurt me,” I whisper in his ear. “I know that because I know who you are. Who youreallyare in your heart. You can’t continue to define your life by things you did while you were held captive. Things you did when you didn’t know any better, when you were freshly suffering from trauma.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I lightly touch my finger to his lips. He sighs, his tongue flicking out to lightly lick my finger. Zuben hasn’t told me everything about his dark past, but he’s told me enough that I can read between the lines to understand the roots of his guilt. But if he abstained from sex for two hundred years, he’s more than served any penance. More than proven he can get past his dark impulses.
“The way you are now,” I kiss his cheeks and his forehead. “The person you’ve become. That’s what’s important.”
“I need to be tied more securely.” His voice is full of fear. “If I am this aroused even before you give me your vein, I will most certainly hurt you.”
I trace my fingers over his cheekbones and then into his hair. “Zuben, you went two hundred years without hurting anyone. I trust you.”
He shakes his head against the mattress.
“Shall I add more bindings? Will that help you feel safer?”
He nods, then visibly relaxes. And so I climb off him. Taking the longest length of rope, I loop it around his waist, and then secure it under the entire bed, holding him down against the mattress.
I slide my hands over his chest. “Is that better?”
Trying to lift his hips, he exhales a ragged breath. “Slightly.”
“Tell me a happy memory from your childhood,” I say softly kneeling beside him. “Something from before you became a vampire.”
“I thought I was not supposed to speak.”
