Page 54 of Man Hands
Okay, not really. It’s just that he’s leaned down to kiss me again, and I can’t focus on both of them at once. And my brain is melting, because the kisses are so good. I wrap my arms around this naked hunk of a man and hold him close. These kisses are different. Or maybe I’m different. I know him better now. And I know him better than the women who watch him on TV. I’m wearing his ring, forfuck’ssake.
Fun hotel sex, I remind myself. And it is. But when he groans into the next kiss, the sound of his desire resonates inside me. I can feel the scruff of his not-quite-a-beard on my neck, my chin. I want to feel that scruff betweenmylegs.
“Mmm,” he says. “Sounds likeaplan.”
Apparently I said thatoutloud.
“But, fuck, honey. How do I get this thingoffyou?”
“Um…” I didn’t think it would becomplicated.
Tom’s handy fingers get to work, loosening the parts at my hips and wriggling the straps off my shoulders. He unwraps me, throwing ribbon everywhere. It’s looped over his body and under mine. We probably look like a bit of performance art gone wrong, but I don’t much care. Because then his mouth is on me. His tongue is… Wow. A place tongues have never gone before. I move my hips, pushing up towards him because I want more of this. He makes me feel sofilthy.
Soalive.
And it’s not Svenka who’s fucking Tom’s face, it’s me. I’m not afraid to moan and writhe and let him know how hot and naughty he makesmefeel.
“Now!” I order him. “You!” I’m about as articulate as Tarzan, but somehow he knows I need that cock, and I need it rightfuckingnow.
He finds the condom beneath the ribbon debris and pushes that big body up on one arm. He rips the condom open with his teeth, and I help him roll it on. I so don’t want to use a condom right now. I’d rather have his velvety skin inside me. But reasonwinsout.
Besides, rolling the condom on himishot.
I lie back down on the bed, my lower legs hanging over the edge. I’m too greedy to position myself more carefully. And he doesn’t care. He leans right over and guides himself to me. I watch as he slides inside on agroan.
“Wait,” he rasps. Then he puts his forearms on the bed (those forearms! I watched them hold a power drill!) He grabs a length of ribbon and gives a twist until we’re bound, arm to arm. Tied together. I’m completely at hismercy.
And holy shit. Can this man use his toolsorwhat?
Then he begins to thrust as we’re literally tied to one another, and it’s… There aren’t wordsforthis.
His body is ungodly. Or maybe godly. Maybe just plain holy. Like holy hell. His chest muscles flex with each push. He moans a bit and bites his bottom lip and I can’t help but push back against him. The bed bounces beneath me with the power of his big body thrustingagainstmine.
And that’s all she wrote. Everything goes golden, and I shudder. Then he groans and I can feel him pulse inside me. The sound he makes brings out something primal in me. For a brief second, I can imagine my life like this beyond the space-aged hotel room. At home in my house. His house. The various patios andporches…
But then I force myself to stop. I’m not thinking long term with Tom. I can’t. I need to be in the now. This, after all, is justfucking.
“Holy shit,”hesays.
He’s still inside me, softening a bit, but I love this quiet moment of still beingjoined.
“I agree,”Isay.
And then after another moment, he pulls out, and collapses next to me. We’re both breathing hard and full of endorphins. No wonder people take drugs. I know exactly the high they’rechasing.
It’s all good until we realize we’re still tied up in theribbons.
Let me be clearer. Tom is such a fucking master with knots, that he’s somehow tangled us together and we are, for lack of a better term, completelystuck.
“Fuck,”hesays.
I yank on my arm and his big hand moves, as if he’s waving at me. He’s my marionette. AndI’mhis.
There are two ways I could go here. I could freak the fuck out, or I could make his hand wave at me and dissolve intolaughter.
Let me tell you, dissolving is even better than beinguntied.
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