Tied With Me (With Me In Seattle)(26)

I have a simple pink barbell through the skin there.

“No.”

“No?” He sweeps his nose across the metal and then tugs it gently with his teeth. “Tell me.”

“It was a reward,” I reply, breathless now. His fingers are still taunting my nipples, and that, coupled with the tugging on my piercing, has my * pulsing in need.

I desperately want to open my legs, but he’s laid across my thighs, holding me still.

On purpose, I’m sure.

And he says he’s not a sadist!

“Reward for what?”

I don’t want to tell him this. It’s embarrassing. In an attempt to switch his focus, I pull my arms down and bury my hands in his soft dark blond hair.

His head jerks up, his eyes narrow in malice, and in a move so fast it steels my breath, he raises up, pins my hands back over my head and covers my body with his, holding me beneath him, his face an inch from mine.

“Reward for what?” he repeats quietly.

“For dropping weight and having a flat stomach,” I whisper.

He smiles widely and plants a deep kiss on my lips, nibbling and exploring my mouth thoroughly. He wiggles his hips between my own, settling his still-covered cock against my center, and rolls gently, just barely feeding my hunger to feel more of him.

“See? That wasn’t hard,” he murmurs and brushes my hair off my forehead with his thumbs as his fingers caress my scalp. “When I ask you questions, I want you to answer me honestly. Every time.”

His face is passive, sober, waiting for my answer.

“Understood.”

He rests his forehead against my own and takes another deep breath before kissing my nose, down my cheek to my ear. “I’m going to worship your body for a while, baby. It’s not going to hurt. I just want you to keep your hands where I put them. Got it?”

I nod and sigh as he trails those magical lips of his back down my body to my piercing.

“I love this,” he murmurs, then travels farther south.

“I haven’t showered since yesterday morning,” I remind him as he peels my panties over my hips and down my legs, discarding them on the floor.

“You’re fine.”

I bite my lip as he settles between my legs, nudging me open with his wide shoulders. “Fuck, you’re beautifully wet for me already.”

He glides a fingertip over the soft bare skin of my pubis, down the crease where my thigh meets my torso, then back up and over the other side, without actually touching the sensitive skin that’s screaming for him.

“You have a freckle right here,” he murmurs and plants his fingertip just to the right of my lips.

I gasp and have to consciously keep my hands over my head.

“Good girl.” His voice is full of approval, and part of me glows brighter.

I love hearing his voice like this, the feel of his hands touching me as he pleases, pleasing me in turn. I’d keep my hands over my head for a week to keep his voice just like this.

His finger moves in, sliding in my wetness, from my slick entrance to my clit and back down again, slowly, leisurely.

Jesus, the man has the patience of a saint.

Finally, he leans in and plants a chaste kiss over my clit, then drags the tip of his tongue down into my folds, wraps his lips around them and sucks, hollowing his cheeks.

My hips buck up, and it takes everything in me to keep my wrists planted on the mattress over my head. His hands grip my hips, hard, and I settle, letting him take me wherever he wants to go.

Happily.

Freely.

He buries two fingers inside me and makes love to my clitoris with his mouth, sending me over into a mind-numbing climax. I plant my heels in his back and scream his name as I come against his mouth, my world shattering spectacularly around me.

As I return to planet Earth, I’m surprised to find my hands still over my head. Matt has continued his journey down my legs, kissing and massaging my muscles as he goes.

“Sometime soon I’ll tie your feet up as well.”

My eyes find his smiling down at me. “Then you’ll be completely at my mercy.”

“I think I am already,” I reply breathlessly.

“Perhaps.” He shrugs. “I have so much more to show you.”

He turns me onto my stomach, then checks to make sure my arms are at a comfortable angle above my head and I can breathe comfortably. “Okay?”

“I’m good,” I reply.