“You’re no monk though. Just admit it.” I rub my wrists together. But he’s right because the rope he uses is silky not rough and there’s enough slack that I can move comfortably.
“I haven’t had a woman in three years.”
“What?” I jerk my head up wishing I wasn’t wearing the damned blindfold so I could look Flint in the eye.
“Why Is that so hard to believe?”
Because you’re so gorgeous that I practically have orgasms just looking at you and I know that you are surrounded by women all the time. Every time I’ve ever visited the Death Lords clubhouse there were always women around, some of them quite young. There was nothing like a little violence with a dash of tattoo to make a girl’s panties wet.
“Because you seem to have a lot of opportunity,” I settle on.
“That’s it? Everyone has opportunity including you Amy. How many men have you slept with in, say, the past five years?”
“I’m a woman,” I protest. “And you’re…look at you.”
“You saying I’m good looking?”
The amusement in his voice makes me want to bop him over the head but he’s standing behind me and I can’t reach him.
“Fishing for compliments?” I snap.
His response is to laugh. “Always from you but to answer your previous question, the girls around the club don’t interest me. I’ve had my eye on someone for a while now and I didn’t want to just dip my dick in some convenient pot because it was there. I’ve got a few standards.”
That last part came out a bit peeved.
“Sorry,” I mutter but I can’t believe it. Then again, Flint has no reason to lie to me. The idea that he’s wanted me so much that he’s gone without for three years is sort of mind blowing and I can’t deal with that information right now. Fortunately, I don’t have to.
He raises my arms up and somehow attaches the belt to something above my head.
“You know, there are rings at the top of your posts. Why is that Amy?”
“I don’t know,” I retort. “I bought this at a flea market.”
“Have you used these rings before?” he asks silkily.
I clamp my mouth shut. He doesn’t need to know what I’ve done in my past.
“Answer me!” he snarls.
My chin trembles at the sharp bite of his command but I turn my face to the side.
“You’re going to be punished for that Amy. Either answer me or pay the consequences.”
I squeeze my legs together to stop the pounding, ease the pressure, soothe the ache, but the tension only builds.
“I can see that,” he says tightly. “I can see you trying to squeeze that cunt but that cunt is mine.”
He kicks my legs apart and shoves a jean clad thigh between them. I never realized how weak I am.
Heat sears me when the hard thigh meets the pulsing junction between my legs. Only soaked cotton and a rough denim separates my sex from his naked skin. I nearly orgasm at the thought.
Against my will, I buck up against him, trying to get more pressure. I need something.
He lets me ride his leg for a few seconds. The delicious sensations uncoil within me. I squeeze my legs tighter and ride him harder, reaching for that release. Just…a…little—
He steps away.
“No!” I cry. “Come back here, dammit.”
“Tell me,” he demands, that hand in my hair again.
“I was almost finished. Help me!” I pull against the leather belt. If I had my hands free, I could bring myself off.
“Tell me what I want to know and I’ll give you what you want,” he snarls in my ear. The heat of his breath sends electric shocks down my spine. I try to wriggle against him, but he’s too far away and all I feel is empty air.
Empty.
I don’t want to be empty. I want him to fill me up with his tough body and crude words. It doesn’t matter that I can’t see him or that I’ve never done this with him before.
“I’ve never used them before,” I say sullenly. “I thought they were decoration.”
He grunts in satisfaction. His legs returns to that hot, needy place and even better his mouth lands on mine. No, that’s not right.
His mouth devours mine. His tongue drives between my lips and he sweeps in to claim every inch. With every jab of his thigh and thrust of his tongue, he establishes his dominance over me. What I want, is what he decides to give me. When, where and how much. I am completely at his mercy.
His hand dips between my legs and I forget how to breathe.
“You have a hungry cunt, Amy,” he rasps. “You need it full of cock, don’t you?”
I press my lips shut. He might be able to feel my body’s betrayal but my words are my own. His fingers tunnel into my hair and jerk my head back, a motion that’s just short of painful.