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“That's the look.” He growled and lowered his head, pressing his lips to mine tenderly. “It makes me want to keep you safe, always. Those big eyes, so trusting... I've never felt more invested in making you feel safe.”
“And you have to break me?” I muttered, glancing over my shoulder at the curtain that held his secret sexy space.
A flush of heat crept up my neck, caressing my skin on the way up. I had no idea what to expect, but I was ready to play. I might have been a little apprehensive about the breaking part, I wasn't going to lie, but he was right, I did trust him.
Holding my jaw in his big hands, he brought his eyes down to my level. “It won't feel like I'm breaking you, at first. And if there's ever a point when you're not happy or you're uncomfortable, you just tell me to stop and I will.”
Humming an agreement, I swallowed and smacked my dry mouth. Embers were sizzling in the pit of my stomach, the delicious tendrils of warmth pooling in my pussy and making me wet. It was time to give myself over to the one who was meant to bring out the best in everyone. “I might be a little nervous,” I muttered, “but I'm excited at the same time.”
His eyes widened, flashing with heat as he stood straight and released me. “It's time to begin. Go over to the couch and stand in front of it, facing me.”
My hands shook as I did as he said, slipping behind the curtain. The blank TV screen caught my eye, as did the whips and handcuffs on the wall. Would he use them on me?
I couldn't contain my shudder as I reached the couch and stared at the manacles attached to the wall above it. I would've loved to be all powerful and ready for him, but I... wait, what was keeping me from being excited instead of afraid? I'd been through too much to let my fear control me. I wanted to be thoroughly seen to. I needed someone to take care of me.
“Go on,” he urged, undoing his jacket and shrugging it off.
Watching as he placed it on a chair, I turned to face him as he drew closer. The sexy broodiness that rolled from him mixed with the gorgeousness of his stoic features. He was all man, coming for his prey, and I was frozen to the spot, unable to resist his approach.
My insides quivered when he stopped in front of me and reached for my skirt, ripping it down my legs in one swift movement. He crouched low in front of me, lifting my legs so he could whip the garment away. I stood in my sheer lace underwear and shirt, keeping my gaze lowered as he ran his hands up the back of my calves, then my thighs, and slowly, teasingly, over my arse, squeezing gently before gripping the hem of my top.
It came up and over my head, dragging my hair until it fell down my back and tickled the skin just below my bra strap. Joe threw my shirt over his jacket on the chair, where it landed delicately before slipping to the floor. Without a pause, he took my chin between his finger and thumb and turned my face to look up at him. He towered above me, his narrowed gaze staring straight into mine.
“Sit down,” he ordered, his voice gravelly.
Swallowing hard, I lowered myself onto the couch and sat back. I glanced down at my legs, unsure whether to cross them or keep them open. What did one do when about to be sexually tortured? A small smile crossed my lips until Joe bent down and put his face into mine.
“What's so funny?” he said, tilting his head to the side.
The tiny bit of humour I'd found evaporated as his annoyance seeped from him. “How do you want my legs?” I snapped, not quite sure what to reply, but also not quite ready to be Miss little pushover straight away.
“Open.” He stood, took my knees, and wrenched them apart. “So I can get access to you.”
This was a whole new Joe, one who had been hiding underneath the cool and collected guy. Except, he'd never been cool and collected, not really. The simmering heat that had radiated from him since the moment we’d actually seen one another was about to be unleashed, I could feel it.
My pussy pulsed as he reached for my arms and lifted them to the manacles above my head. I gasped when the cold metal clasped around my wrists, trapping me against the wall. Joe stepped back and studied me, his gaze tracing downwards until it hit my bra.
“I need to see your beauty,” he murmured, bending forward and digging my breasts out of the bra cups so they sat on top, bulbous and perky - perkier than they'd been for a while.
He stood again and resumed his appreciation, biting his lower lip as he studied the scars on my thighs. Shit, I'd forgotten about the healed wounds. Would it turn him on, knowing that I'd been vulnerable? The idea of his excitement sent a thrill through me. Wow, who knew what could get a woman's blood rushing?
Dropping into a crouch again, Joe felt under the couch and pulled out a pair of manacles which were attached by a short chain. He carefully placed one around each ankle before running his hands up the front of my legs, over my knees and down the inside of my thighs. I was open to him, unable to reach out to touch him... or to stop him. And fuck, that made it all the more intense.
“I can't get rid of these scars,” he said, lowering his head and kissing them, one at a time. “But I'm going to help you to dig out the pain that still lives in them.”
A pangsquashed my lungs and the air rushed from them, ruffling his hair. The pain that lived deep within me threatened to rear its ugly head, wanting to show itself, to be heard. Joe glanced up at me, his bright blue eyes darkened by the shadows from the dim room. He wanted to be my saviour, to help me to heal, but he had to hurt me in order to do that. Was I ready?
Pulling my legs open as wide as they would go, Joe dropped his head and placed his mouth over my underwear, right on my slit. He huffed warm air onto me, making the material heat and tingle against my core. I shuddered as his tongue pressed tight, melding my underwear into my folds. He gripped my thighs roughly, his fingers digging so deep into my scars, I yelped and tried to pull away.
The shackles around my legs made it impossible so I sat, torn between the pain of his hands and the pleasure of his tongue. He flicked that hard muscle, up and down, around and around, rubbing me with the wet material. The grazing sensation sent tingles sparking from my clit, there, oh and there. Shifting my hips forward, I sat on the edge of the couch so that Joe could get better access. The tips of his fingers, with his blunt nails, pushed even further into my skin, but the sting only added to the pleasure. Looking down, I bit my lip as a groan escaped me. Seeing the dents he made in my thighs turned me on, just as much as his head with its greying brown hair, bobbing between my legs.
“Shit!” I gasped when his tongue flicked up and down continuously.
The build of the orgasm rose and crested, sending cascades of delicious tentacles that forced my back up into an arch. My wrists ached where they pulled against the metal that bound me, but even that only added to the intensity.
“My sweet girl,” Joe murmured, sitting back on his heels. “That was a wonderful beginning.”
My chest heaved as I liquefied on the couch, enjoying the melting of my flesh as the pulses of orgasm died away.
