Bound to Please(67)

He was naked, on his knees. Before her.

“Kiss my feet. Now.” Just saying the words made her sex clench.

She saw him exhale before he brought one of her toes to his lips. He kissed the tip of her toe, and then he pulled her deeper into his mouth, using his tongue to lick her even as his hand found a tender spot just under the ball of her foot. The sudden combination of his mouth and his hand sent her arching off the sofa, moaning.

Her toes still in his mouth, his warm tongue licked her, sucked her, teased her. It could have been her pussy he was making love to, and her sex throbbed, slick and wet.

She felt his hand trail up the inside of her leg, higher and higher, until he brushed the edge of his fingers against her labia.

Resting her other foot on the edge of the sofa, she opened herself to him fully. “Touch me. Use your fingers.”

He continued to play with her foot as he slid his finger into her pussy.

“Yes, harder…” She clutched the sofa cushion with her left hand and used her other to tug at her nipple. Soon she was moaning aloud for him, watching the way he loved her foot, shocked at how the image made her skin burn all over.

But he was starting to move his own hips now, moving as if he was looking for something to fill. Her pussy would do.

“Emmett, come here and fuck me.”

He raised both her feet to rest on his shoulders and pulled her hips toward him. In one move he was inside her, fucking her. “Harder. Faster.” She couldn’t believe the words were coming out of her mouth; she couldn’t believe how much it turned her on to say them.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, smiling. He thrust into her again and again until his own groans joined hers. And then he turned his face to the side and took her other foot, the one that hadn’t been kissed yet, and brought a toe into his mouth.

Their gazes locked as he sucked and fucked her. She couldn’t believe they were doing this. That she and her husband were doing this taboo thing, that the intimacy of it, the deep connection of the experience, sent her over the edge.

She exploded. The climax tore through her, and she knew he wasn’t far behind. She knew his signals, the way his lids lowered and his grip on her tightened. She knew her husband’s movements like she knew her own face.

But this man, this man who’d been harboring his secret desires for so long, was a stranger. This new Emmett wanted to be dominated and wanted to suck her toes. This new Emmett was probably open to letting her try out her new paddle.

This new Emmett loved her.

“You look happy.”

Meg dropped a pile of willow branches onto Ruby’s desk. “I took your advice.”

Ruby eyed the sticks. “We need more. I want this party to look like a spring wonderland.”

“I am so glad you talked James out of that rock-and-roll theme.”

“So am I. But the party is one week from tomorrow, and we have so much to do! Anyway, what advice did you take?”

Meg grinned. “I got kinky with Emmett.”

“I take it things went well.”

“Yup.”

“So, your husband’s not gay?”

“Or bi,” Meg said.

“I told you,” Ruby said with a smile.

Meg dropped into the chair opposite Ruby’s desk. “How about you? How are things with you and the rock god?”

Music thudded through the walls, a constant, reverberating reminder of his presence. She picked up a stick and snapped off a sharp edge. “Well, last time I saw him was Thursday. We’d just had sex in a public bathroom, and he had to rush off to some interview.”

Meg looked incredulous. “Are you joking?”

“Sadly, no. But it was for his job. I know better than anyone what sacrifices need to be made to build a successful career.”

“Still, leaving you like that? It’s kinda jacked up.”

“Whatever. It’s for the best. I told him not to call me again. After the Spring Fling is over, he’ll be out of my life.” A life that, Ruby had to admit, sounded extremely boring without Mark in it. She never knew when he was going to show up, when he was going to pull her into a broom closet or ring her doorbell. It was enlightening how much she liked that sort of spontaneity.

“Anyway.” Ruby stood and pulled a can of glitter spray paint off a shelf. “It’s not like he made me any promises.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

She shook the spray can, the sound pinging around the office. “I don’t have any choice, and, anyway, he’s the worst possible man for me. He’s young; he leads an unpredictable life; he’s constantly leaving. He’s everything I don’t want in a relationship.”

“You sound scared.”