Page 39 of Babies for the Big Shot
Fast.
He’s on the bed in one smooth motion, pulling something from his pocket. A tie. Navy silk. He meets my eyes with a look that makes my thighs clench.
“Say stop and I will,” he murmurs, voice brushing over my skin. “But if you let me… I’m going to ruin you tonight.”
I nod. Breathless.
“Yes.”
His fingers are gentle but sure as he binds my wrists to the headboard with the tie, tightening it just enough that I can feel the hold, but not enough to truly restrict.
It’s not about control. It’s about surrender.
And I’ve never wanted to surrender so badly in my life.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous like this,” he growls, kissing a line from my collarbone to the valley between my breasts. “Laid out for me. Trusting me.”
He sucks a nipple into his mouth and I moan, back arching, thighs tightening. But he doesn’t linger. He kisses lower. And lower. Until he’s settled between my legs, hands spreading my thighs apart as if he owns every inch of me.
“Nick, please…”
He exhales hot against my center and grins, wicked and devastating.
“Beg prettier.”
I let out a helpless, needy sound, humiliation and arousal tangling in my stomach.
“Please,” I whisper, squirming beneath him. “I need you.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “youhaveme.”
And then his mouth is on me.
He licks with a fierce hunger, his tongue flicking over my clit, then sliding down to tease my entrance before thrusting in. His nose presses just right and I cry out, arching into the tie binding my wrists, hips grinding into his face, chasing a craving I’ve been denied for far too long.
Iam.
His hands grip my thighs hard, holding me still as he devours me. Tongue, lips, teeth, he uses all of it, sending heat crackling down my spine with every movement. And when I start to tremble, teetering on the edge, he doesn’t stop.
He slides two fingers inside me, curling them just right, and moans against my skin, his breath heavy with need. My body unravels under his touch, and I can feel how much he’s been craving this—me.
“Nick, oh my god…”
“Come for me,” he growls, voice rough and tight. “Let me taste how good I make you feel.”
And I do.
I come so hard I forget my own name, crying out as pleasure explodes behind my eyes, pulsing through my limbs and making my whole body shudder against the restraints. He doesn’t stop until I’m gasping, limp, twitching from overstimulation and completely wrung out.
He crawls back up, fingers tracing the curve of my jaw, eyes locked on mine.
He kisses me, filthy and deep, letting me taste myself on his tongue. And I moan into his mouth, because I’ve never felt more wanted. Moretaken. Morehis.
Then he unknots the tie.
“Now,” he says, tugging his shirt over his head and reaching for the waistband of his pants. “My turn.”
His shirt hits the floor.
