Bound to Please(38)

After testing the slackness of his “rope” he tied it off, securing her to the tree. Then he stepped back. His eyes were dark, intense, as he scanned her stretched, naked form.

Goose bumps erupted all over her skin. Tied, helpless, bound. For him. For his pleasure; he could use her as he wished. And she wanted him to.

He circled her, and she jumped when she felt his hands on her shoulder blades. “Ssssh,” he whispered against her ear. His breath was hot, damp. Her sex started to throb, and each caress of wind chilled the moisture between her legs.

She’d never felt so aware. The ocean roared louder, the air was crisper, the moon shone brighter. And Mark. Mark was…

Pressing his solid body against hers. His erection was rock-hard under his jeans, pushing at the small of her back. “Tell me something, Ruby.”

“Anything.”

“Do you like it when I touch your breasts?” His hands came around to cup her breasts, and he gently massaged the sensitive flesh.

She moaned. “Yes.”

“Tell me what else you like.”

“I love it when you pinch my nipples.” She’d never said anything like it before, and the words seemed to echo in the darkness.

He took a hard tip between two fingers and pinched her softly. “Pinch you like this?”

“Harder.”

She felt his smile against her throat. The bastard already knew she didn’t like it gentle; he was torturing her once more. But then he pinched again, harder, this time sending a sharp pain through her body that shot to her pussy. She writhed against the open air, straining against the vines that held her bound.

Then she felt another jasmine vine on her skin, a fragrant whisper across her rib cage, between her breasts, around her neck and back again.

Silent, she waited as he manipulated the vine around her breasts, her sides, her neck. The feel of his fingers brushing her skin, the silky flowers caressing her sensitive flesh, were like erotic pinpricks covering her wherever they touched.

Jasmine enveloped her upper body. It came together in the center of her breasts to spread out again, wrapping around her ribs toward the back. She felt him tie off the vines in the middle of her spine, leaving her in a cupless bra of leaves and flowers.

His hands were on her breasts again, pinching, kneading, pulling. The leaves and stems were slightly scratchy on her skin and somehow heightened the tingling at her nipples.

“Please,” she gasped, throwing her head back against his neck. “Touch me… I’m so wet.”

“If only you weren’t so disobedient.”

“I’m not…”

“You are. I recall asking you to feed me a certain strawberry earlier at dinner. Do you remember that?”

She whimpered. Her pussy was dripping, the juice sticky on her inner thigh.

His hot breath on her ear sent shivers over her skin. “You were a greedy thing, weren’t you? You couldn’t share that berry with me. And I wanted to taste you so badly, Ruby.”

“I’m sorry, Mark; just touch me, please.”

He teased her nipple, tweaked until she cried out, the sound drowning in the roar of ocean waves.

“My mouth was watering for it. You had your pussy juice right in front of my mouth. I could smell it.” He skated his hand across her rib cage and she felt him span her abdomen, hip bone to hip bone.

“Lower,” she begged, squirming.

“Tell me something first.” He still held her left breast in his palm, and he squeezed her.

“Anything.” Just touch me.

“Tell me what you tasted like,” he said.

“See for yourself.”

“So naughty. So defiant.” His fingers inched lower, and she bucked forward. But the evil man did not go low enough. “Ruby darling, maybe you’re not as submissive as I originally thought.”

“You’ll never find out,” she said, twisting against him, teasing him.

“We’ll see.” His voice was even, but his cock jerked against her ass. Oh, how she wanted to feel him inside her. Filling her. Fucking her.

Again he took her nipple in his fingers and twisted until she writhed in ecstasy. “Yes, Ruby. Get even wetter for me.”

“Fuck me, Mark. Now.”

“I will, but not until you tell me what that strawberry tasted like.”

Her face burned, but she ground out the words. “Acidic, sweet. Juicy. It tasted like your fingers that night in the limo.”

“Did you like it? Did you like the taste of yourself?”

She bit her lip.

He twisted her nipple.

“Yes! I liked it. And I liked knowing you wanted it and denying you.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I love to see you turned on, to know I’m turning you on and torturing you at the same time,” she said, not quite believing she’d said it.