Tie Me (One Night with Sole Regret 5)

Her hands held the back of his head as he lost himself in her scent, her taste, but her legs were still tied wide open, and he wanted them around him, pulling him into her. He wanted her free when he took her, and his rigid c**k was throbbing, demanding entry into her slick warmth.

Crouched between her thighs, he leaned back and peered up at her, waiting for her eyelids to flutter open before he spoke.

“Do you have any condoms?” He had some in his wallet—Owen’s back-up stash of all things—which was out in the glovebox of his rental car, but he’d rather not have to go out there to find them if it wasn’t necessary.

“In my purse,” she said and then she chuckled. “They’ve been in there a while. They might be expired.”

“Where’s your purse?”

“Finish untying me and I’ll get them,” she said.

“But I’m not sure I can wait that long.”

“Then cut the ropes. Not that I’m not enjoying all this attention. It’s just the longer you take, the more inspired I feel.”

He still wasn’t sure what she meant by being inspired, but he knew in order to find out, he was going to have to free her legs. He hesitated only because he knew that once she was free, there was no turning back. He wouldn’t be able to stop even if his conscience was calling him every kind of cheater. A lecher. A weak man without principles.

He found the knife on the floor and carefully used it to cut the ropes from her thighs, then at the knee, and finally each ankle. She stretched her legs out in front of her, and he rubbed her hips to help her regain full mobility.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Better than okay.” She scooted forward and wrapped both arms and legs around him to hold him close. “Perfect.”

She kissed his jaw, his neck. He fought the instinct to deny himself pleasure—he’d been denying it for so long that enjoying it, seeking pleasure, felt foreign. Foreign and wonderful.

“But I think we can improve on perfect,” she whispered.

Her lips trailed over his collarbones, her hands roamed his back, and her legs tightened around his hips, forcing his c**k against the heat between her thighs. He needed that condom like yesterday.

“Dawn?”

“Hmm?” she murmured, nibbling a delightful trail around one of his ni**les.

“I could really use that condom right about now.”

She looked far too devious for comfort when she lifted her gaze to his. “I’ll go get them. You climb up here on the piano and wait for me.”

“But—” But he’d wanted her on the piano while he stood between her thighs and plunged into her.

“I want to show you how you’ve inspired me.”

And he did want to experience that, even if it meant he had to wait a while longer to possess her.

He helped her down from the piano, unable to keep his eyes off her gorgeous ass as she hurried toward the kitchen. She’d looked amazing all bound in ropes, but she looked even more beautiful without a single adornment impeding his view of her smooth, white skin. He completely forgot to climb up on the piano until she was headed back in his direction with something in her hand.

He put his back to the piano and was about to do a triceps curl to hoist himself up, when she waved one hand.

“Wait,” she said. “I see a problem.”

He glanced around in confusion. She approached him and hooked her fingers in his borrowed boxer shorts.

“You won’t be needing these.”

She tugged his shorts down and jerked back unexpectedly when his c**k sprang free in her face. She chuckled. “Whoa, big guy. Are you trying to black my eye?”

“That wasn’t its target, no.”

She laughed and helped him remove his shorts entirely. Then she stood and patted the surface of the piano lid.

“Up here,” she said.

Who was he to argue with her inspiration? He propelled himself upward to sit on the piano, and she nibbled on her lip as she stared at him.

“Open your legs.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. That’s the kind of thing he was supposed to say to her.

“Do I have to tie you?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Not this time, but I’d love to show you a few knots.”

He did as she instructed and watched her—completely intrigued and entranced—as she bent over him. The feel of her tongue tracing the crease between his balls made him jerk upright.

“Dawn?”

“Don’t interrupt,” she said. “It’s your turn to be driven mad by someone’s mouth.”

He groaned in bliss as she suckled his sac.

He watched her kiss and lick and use her lips to massage his most sensitive skin until he couldn’t handle the sight of her giving him so much pleasure. He squeezed his eyes shut and allowed himself to feel the heat and moisture of her mouth, the heaviness of his balls, the unbearable throb pulsing down the length of his cock. He shifted slightly so he could bury both hands in the thick lustrous mass of her hair. He coaxed her head toward his cock, slowly, as if she wouldn’t notice. She nibbled, kissed, and suckled the flesh all around the base of his shaft, but no amount of tugging on her hair convinced her to take his tip into her mouth.

“Dawn,” he pleaded when he couldn’t stand the ache in his groin another moment. She gave his balls a thorough licking and then blew cooling breaths over the damp surface. He was trembling so hard he feared he’d collapse.

She paused in her exquisite torture, and he pried his eyes open to look down at her. She smiled reassuringly and reached for one of the candles burning nearby. His eyes widened when she blew out the flame and tipped the candle over his body until wax dribbled onto his belly. His abs contracted involuntarily as she drew a trail in wax from his belly button down, down toward his cock.

“Wait!” he cried. While a little molten heat on his belly was exciting, there were areas that he’d rather she didn’t burn with wax.

“Shh,” she said. “I trusted you completely. You owe me the same courtesy.”

Yeah, but he’d known what he was doing. He’d never have hurt her in any way.

But she hadn’t known that. She had placed her complete trust in him. He cringed, prepared to breathe through the pain as the hot, slow trickle of wax got closer and closer to his cock. Less than an inch shy of his throbbing shaft, she righted the candle and blew a soothing breath over the hardening wax. She started at his belly again and trickled another line of wax parallel to the first, again slowly moving toward his cock. He held his breath as the hot trail burned closer and closer to her target. Surely this time she’d… But no, she started another new trail on his belly. When she ran out of wax, she reached for a second candle. When her lips pursed to blow out the flame, he groaned. Dear lord, she was sensual. She smiled when her fourth trail of wax caused a bead of pr**cum to seep from the opening at the tip of his cock.