Page 59 of For Your Heart
I’m also trying not to read into him not wanting sex. He’s choked on my dick two out of his four visits this week. But besides the image of the painful cock cage he sent me and a few flirty, teasing texts back and forth, there’s been nothing overly sexual.
Hell, there hasn’t even been a lot of kissing since the night we had dinner and he hand fed me a cookie, where we made out on the couch after.
This entire thing is driving me crazy. I need to know what’s going on between us, but I’m far too terrified to ask. He told me he can only give me sex. He told me Simon is home. That’s why he didn’t come over last night. He told me “Friday nights are for Simon, Declan, and me.”
It shouldn’t have hurt. It really shouldn’t have. He’s been over here other nights that Simon is there. But I can’t stop picturing them in the shower. In bed. Touching him like Damon touches me.
I let out a frustrated, choked screech as, once again, the silicone cock in my ass slips out. This pushes me over the edge because I’m so out of my mind exasperated, tears streak down my cheeks. I’m sure I’m quite the ridiculous sight to behold. I’ve tied two ties to the posts at the end of my bed, and my back is arched as I try to fuck the dick that keeps slipping out while holding the ropes as if I’m tied down.
But fuck, I can’t keep that thing inside me and ride it how I want to while forcing myselfnotto touch myself.
I’m practically sobbing with the aggravation of it all when I open my eyes and almost scream. Damon is standing in the door, his light eyes almost entirely drowned out by his blown pupils. My breath is shaky as I stare at him.
“You forgot to lock your door again,” he says, his voice low and deep.
It’s only been unlocked for an hour. I’d gone out to check the mail. Obviously, I really should have locked it with all the sounds I’m making.
“Di-did you lock it?” I ask like an idiot.
“I did,” he says. He doesn’t move as his eyes rove over my body. It makes me ache all the more and I whimper. “You want some help, Sage?”
I whine and all but shout that I do.
Damon wastes no time taking his clothes off while he moves around to the other side of the bed and throws things on top. Condom. Lube. Butt plug. Vibrator. Rope. Lots of rope.
He climbs on the bed again and removes the offending dildo that keeps slipping out. He replaces it with the butt plug and I hiss at the sting of it. Damon gently pats my ass cheek, soothing me with a quiet, “Shhh.”
As he ties me up, not nearly as meticulous as he did last time, I blurt, “Why haven’t you touched me?”
His hands pause and he looks at me. This may come as a shock, but my face turns bright red. “I am touching you.”
“No,” I say, quieter this time. “All week. You’ve barely touched me. Are you… are you not into this anymore? You don’t have to be. It’s okay. If you just want to be friends—”
“Oh, Sage,” he says and stops with the rope to lay his body across mine. His mouth covers mine and I moan at his deep kiss. The way his tongue owns my mouth. How thorough and consuming it is.
I don’t stop moaning. My body moves under him, trying to feel more of his body. I can’t touch him. He’s already got my hands secured. But my legs are free, which gives me some movement. Really, it’s his hands smoothing over my body, touching me softly everywhere. Like he wants to touch me.
“I’m sorry,” he says against my mouth, licking me in a filthy way. “I definitely still want this. But I didn’t want to… I don’t know. I didn’t want you to think that’s the only reason I’m coming over here.”
“To tie me up and fuck me?” I ask, breathless.
He nods. “Yeah. I like you. I don’t want you to think that I just want to use you for sex.”
The question is right there on the tip of my tongue to ask what he wants this to be between us. What is it that’s already between us? But I’m too afraid of the answer. I’m afraid that if I push it, he’s going to leave, and honestly, feelings aside, I might break down completely with how badly I need to come.
“Okay,” I say.
“I need you to promise me something,” he says.
I swallow and nod.
“If you need something, sexually or otherwise, you need to tell me. I’m pretty sure I mentioned that I’ve never been with a guy more than once. I’ve never done this with someone regularly. My needs might not match your needs, but that doesn’t mean we can’t see where we’re at. All right? Promise me that?”
“To tell you if I want sex?” I ask.
He smiles and brushes my lips softly. My heart flutters while still dancing like the drums of war. “Or something else. Kiss. Hug. You want to cuddle. Hell, I want to know if you’re hungry or upset. If you want to talk about something.”
That sounds an awful lot like a relationship. And now I’m panting for an entirely different reason.
