Page 18 of Ride With Me
Logan raised his eyebrow. “All of it, love.”
I swallowed, hard, then unbuttoned the jeans, sliding them down, along with my pink bikini panties.
He walked toward the bed in the center of the room and gestured toward the queen sized bed. “Climb on the bed, babe.”
I climbed onto the bed and sat in the center. There was something freeing about submitting, I’d always thought. You didn’t need to make any decision, to think about whether you were doing something right, if you were doing what your partner wanted.
All you had to do was obey.
I bent my knees together, ankles crossed, hiding my scar the way I’d gotten used to doing.
Logan opened a dresser drawer, hunting through it while I watched. He found something and turned to me, holding a bandana. “Close your eyes, love.”
I closed them as the fabric settled over my eyes. My breathing settled, slow and deep, the way it always did when I was blindfolded or restrained. Logan’s hand pressed gently on my chest, leaning me back until I was flat on the bed.
His large hand circled my wrist and tugged it over my head, securing something around it. I pulled at it, finding it secured to something above my head, as he repeated the process on the other wrist.
I held back a moan as he bound my ankles as well, leaving me spread-eagle, naked on the bed.
His deep voice was right next to my ear. “Stay right there, love. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I snorted to myself as his footsteps retreated down the stairs. Stay here, huh? Like I had any choice. It was freeing, honestly. I breathed in through my nose, out through my mouth, my mind settling into a meditative state while I waited.
After a few minutes, his footsteps returned, and then bed dipped beneath his weight as he sat next to me.
He ran a finger down my chin, neck, and between my breasts. I inhaled sharply as he continued down my stomach and paused just above my clit. Oh god. I need him to keep going. Just a bit more—
His finger disappeared, and I let out a groan. Something cold and wet circled my breasts, forming a figure eight as it spiraled closer to my nipples.
I arched my back as the cold—ice?—settled over one nipple, then moved to the next. A moan escaped as Logan removed the ice and pinched each bud firmly with his fingers, the sensation jolting straight to my pussy.
Something squeezed the sensitive skin of my nipple. I squirmed in my restraints.
“Have you ever tried nipple clamps?” Logan’s voice was ominous.
Nipple clamps? I shook my head. I hadn’t tried them, but I’d heard—and read—a lot about them.
Logan chuckled darkly in reply. “I don’t have real nipple clamps handy, but clothespins do nicely in a pinch.”
The clamp closed over the taut bud, tightening on the sensitive skin.
I whimpered as the flash of pain settled into arousal, and Logan repeated the treatment on the other nipple.
My focus was solely on the burning pain until a flash of cold pulled my attention to where the ice was sliding down my stomach, following Logan’s fingers. He separated my folds. I sucked in a breath as the air hit my clit, and a second later, Logan held the ice in the same spot.
I writhed on the bed as sensations overwhelmed me.
He moved the ice further down, slipping it inside my pussy. I bucked in the ties as I tried to dislodge the cold, hard intruder, even as it felt good.
Warmth contrasted the cold of the ice as Logan’s tongue slid along my entrance and circled my clit. He plunged his tongue inside me, lapping at the melting ice as my mind went blank.
He bit down firmly on my clit while his hands moved up to remove the clothespins.
I let out a gasp as feeling came back into my nipples with a searing pain that pushed me over the cliff. I came, moaning his name. My body spasmed, pulling on the restraints.
A final shudder moved through me before my muscles relaxed and I floated in the post-orgasmic haze.
A soft cloth swiped over my entrance. I blinked, regaining my bearings.
