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"Atticus Price, you don't know what you just agreed to."
21
Atticus
My voice was a low rumble when I said, “I’ll be a good boy. Do your worst.”
With a wicked smile, Gwen reached for the silk tie that bound my wrist. "Oh, I intend to, Mr. Price."
As she secured the tie around my other wrist and the ornate bedpost, a strange sensation overtook me as a shiver ran through me. A combination of vulnerability and anticipation had my heart hammering in my chest, my breathing coming out unevenly as Gwen hiked up her skirt and shimmied down my body.
She straddled me effortlessly, her skirt hiking up and revealing a teasing hint of lace underneath. I watched her with rapt attention, all pretense of composure lost as she leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on my chest, her eyes never leaving mine.
Fuck. I had talked a big game, but I was already on the brink of madness. All vestiges of control slipping out of my hands like water.
"Are you going to drive me insane tonight?" My voice sounded like a feral growl as I spoke. Which was fitting, because I was losing my shit, and she hadn’t even started yet.
Her lips curved into an inscrutable smile. "Maybe," she whispered before she bent down, trailing hot kisses down my stomach until her lips hovered above the sensitive spot just below my navel.
I held my breath, tugging against the restraints, suddenly rethinking my idea. I needed to touch her. I was going to die if I didn’t.
And she’ll let you go… But she’ll demand you beg first.
I squeezed my eyes shut, thinking that maybe if I didn’t see what she was doing it might help. It didn’t. But there was no way I was giving in. Not so soon.
Her lips barely brushed against me once before she suddenly stopped and looked up at me with a teasing glint in her eyes.
She took hold of the waistband of my pants and slowly unbuttoned them, drawing out each second with torturous precision. The sound of the zipper felt like a gong in the silence of our bedroom.
I wasn’t going to make it. Fuck, she was killing me, and she hadn’t even started yet.
Biting her lip, she dragged my pants down, having to reach inside and adjust my cock as she tugged. When she had them to my knees, her gaze pinned on the length of my throbbing dick. A drop of pre-cum leaked from the tip as if in greeting.
“Gwen…” My voice trailed as my remaining brain cells fried. She took my dick into her delicate palm, and I nearly lost it right there. Her touch was molten hot. Firm yet gentle, stoking the fire that threatened to consume us both.
Slowly, so goddamned slowly, she lowered her head. Her breath was a tease over the tip of my cock, and I couldn’t help it. I lifted my hips in a plea.
The heat of it almost undid me as I tugged against the restraints, a primal instinct urging me to bury my hands in her hair and pull her down until my cock hit the back of her throat. But I couldn't, not with the silk binding my wrists firmly to the bedpost.
"What's the matter, Mr. Price? Cat got your tongue?" Her voice was as sweet as honey, laced with a heavy note of amusement.
“Fuck, baby, please. Just—” I lifted my hips in frustration.
“Didn’t take you long to beg.”
Teasing me, she smiled as she took my cock, licking the pre-cum off with the tip of her tongue. When she moaned, swallowing me down, that was it. “Fuck, okay, you win. I beg. Give me your mouth, baby. Fuck Gwen, give it to me.”
Her laughter was a soft vibration against my hard length, sending jolts of electricity through me. "I thought you'd never ask, Atticus."
With those words, she closed her mouth around me, sucking deep. A strangled moan tumbled from my lips as I fought the urge to buck up into her mouth. Held prisoner by my restraints and the expert work of her tongue, there was nothing to do but surrender completely.
Her movements were slow at first, teasing with every lick and suck. She held me captive with her eyes, watching with a devilish delight as I writhed beneath her. My heart pounded in my ears as she took me in deeper and deeper.
Hot.
Wet.
Consuming.
