“So do you think the evening was a success?” Drew strolled over to stand in front of her, nudging her knees with one hip.
“I do. Despite the stuff I can’t unhear.” She wrapped a stockinged foot around his leg and pulled him close enough that she could hook her fingers around his belt. “Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year to you, too. I have a great idea for a New Year’s tradition. I’ve been waiting all night to show you.” He lifted an eyebrow suggestively, and Eva gave him a coy look in return.
“I could probably be talked into whatever it is,” she allowed.
“Then stand up and turn around.”
He had sneaked out to his car moments before the gallery closed, and now he procured a length of rope from his pocket. He’d been keeping his back to her for half an hour or so, hiding it, pretty astonished that she hadn’t caught on. Now he ran the soft line through his fingers, letting it unwind and fall under its own weight to hang between them, waiting to be used.
Eva stood and offered her hands behind her back as if she knew what he had in mind. She hadn’t even paused, and that alone was enough to get Drew going.
It was black this time, the rope he tied her hands with. Not as long as he would have liked, not long enough to recreate the complete dragonfly weave. But he accomplished a slightly more complex version of the very first tie he’d ever bound her with. Then he leaned into her, running his hands boldly down from her collarbones to cup her breasts through the fine knit of the carnelian dress.
Drew gasped as Eva cupped him in a more meaningful way, sliding her bound hands over his cock and bringing him from half-mast to full-staff within seconds. Stopping her was its own kind of torture, but he had something specific in mind and had enough will power to stick to his plan. It was, after all, a combination of things he’d been dreaming about, developing and honing for months.
“Bend over, honey. On the table.” He pushed gently, and Eva gave a groaning laugh as she braced her legs and bent gracefully at the hips, then let herself flop the last inch or so to rest her cheek, shoulders and belly on the tabletop.
“I forgot to tell you some things about my outfit tonight,” she whispered conspiratorially, already half lost in the happy place the ropes led her to.
“Things? Like what, am I going to need special tools to get you out of it or something?” He ran his fingers between her flexed shoulder blades, over the woven knots that joined her hands over the small of her back, and then down into the red-clad cleft between her buttocks.
Then he ran his fingers over that spot again, then his entire hand, with a dawning grin.
“Oh, holy fuck, have you been dressed like this all night and I never even realized?” With a lot less ceremony than he had originally intended, Drew jerked the soft folds of her skirt up around her waist and made a gurgling, incoherent noise of pleasure at what he found.
A black garter belt, clipped to a wide band of lace atop each slim thigh, topping the sheerest black stockings ever. And above that, perfectly outlining each deliciously curved hip and cheek, a lacy black pair of the fabulous tanga panties. Only a thin strip passed between her legs, and that was easily pushed to one side. He tucked it carefully down next to her pussy and then just stood, admiring for a long moment.
He ran his hands over every place that lace met skin, avoiding only the one place Eva obviously wanted his hands to be, until she was begging and writhing toward him.
“No, honey,” he said sweetly, soothingly, pressing a hand carefully over her helpless wrists. “Be still, let me touch you.”
“I can’t be still,” she whimpered. Her voice sounded as disheveled and sexy as the rest of her, and it was nearly as effective as a tongue running over Drew’s cock. “I need you.”
He bit his lip and ran a possessive hand over the curve of her ass again, finally letting one thumb trace along the shining wet opening that beckoned him. Then an index finger, and then two fingers, tracing down to circle her clit as slowly as he could force himself to go.
When she bucked into his palm, he gave up on patience and freed his cock within a few seconds flat, barely getting the condom rolled over the tip before working himself into her welcoming heat. She shuddered, and he scrolled the band of latex higher on his length and stroked a little deeper, astonished by the pang of need that stabbed at him.
“Drew, please! Now, please now!”
Need, and something more, as the condom finally sheathed him and he finally sheathed himself fully in Eva’s body. It was horrible and wonderful and absolute, a kind of madness. It felt like he could never get enough, but he couldn’t help trying. One hand on her hip, the other on the rope around her delicate wrists, he lunged into her as deeply as he could, startling a sharp breath from her.