Page 79 of Special Delivery

“And you’ll tell me if anything gets too much? You won’t keep it to yourself?” There’s a seriousness to his gaze, one that shows me how important my answer is.

“I will.”

“Good.” He lowers to dig through the gift bag before extracting a black piece of fabric. “This is for your eyes.” He stretches the fabric, and I realize it’s a sleep mask. “This is for your ears,” he tells me, taking out a pair of headphones. “And this…” He takes out a spool of rope. “This is for your wrists and ankles. Do you still trust me?”

My chest now heaves with labored breaths as adrenaline courses my bloodstream. “Yes.”

He nods and gets to work. “Sit up,” he instructs.

He uses my position to slip the sleep mask over my eyes, covering my world in darkness. Next are the headphones; he places them over my ears, shutting out all the outside noise. Within seconds, a sultry melody starts. Deep but repetitive sounds flood my ears. I barely notice him unbuckling my bra until the tips of his fingers run over my hard nipples.

A gasp I don’t hear escapes me. Gently, he lowers me back down. With two senses removed, each touch I feel is heightened. My breath races no matter how much I try to keep it steady, as he ties my wrists to what I presume would be the bedposts of my bed. Next up are my ankles, but he first peels my thong down my legs, leaving me fully naked. My lower lip trembles at the vulnerability of being tied spread-eagle to the bed, unable to hear or see.

That’s just the beginning of the torture he’s planned for me.

I feel a light sensation moving up my ribs, hitching the breath in my throat. It’s so soft and weightless that it must be a feather. He caresses my legs and my stomach. I’m pretty sure it would tickle under any normal circumstances, but this is anything but. Instead, my stomach clenches and my back arches off the bed as he trails the feather over my nipples and then over the mound of my pussy. The music still rumbles through the headphones, almost overpowered by the sound of my beating heart.

Something warm and wet wraps around my nipples, making me hiss. His mouth is soon replaced by the feather again. With my ears and eyes incapacitated, there’s no way to predict what happens next. I have no idea where he is, what he’s holding, or what the hell he’ll do to me. The anticipation courses through my bloodstream, dizzying my thoughts and heightening even the smallest of touches. Another kiss to my nipple, raising my chest toward it. Then the feather again.

Even the feel of his finger trailing down my leg is so unexpected and different from the feather that it becomes the best thing I’ve ever felt.

He plays me like an instrument, exchanging sensations with speed and precision to turn me into a puddle before him. The first time his finger crosses the already soaked flesh of my pussy, I practically jump out of my confines. I’m so fucking ready, but he doesn’t let me enjoy it, replacing his finger with the mind-numbing feather again.

A kiss to my neck. A pinch to my nipples.

I can’t hear myself, but I’m pretty sure I’m heaving like a dog in heat, my skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

A quick circle around my clit almost makes me come on the spot, completely short-circuiting my brain. But then he ignores it, making the small bundle of nerves ache with need.

A thick finger slips into me, and I barely escape blacking out. My noises are probably obscene, but my body is so oversensitized that I’m unable to control them. He pumps it in and out of me, finding no resistance from my dripping pussy. Then, once again, he stops what he’s doing, making me let out a labored sigh.

For what feels like an eternity, nothing happens. Neither his hands nor the feather come in contact with my skin to where it starts aching for his touch. Just when I’m about to plead him to touch me, vibrations start on my clit.

“Fuck,” I moan out, my body thrashing on the bed, as much as the ropes allow me.

The buzz is relentless and inescapable, intense to the point of hurting. The slight pang of pain turns to pleasure as soon as it registers. My hips fidget, grinding the small nub over the vibrating toy.

Like magic, Ryan’s voice fills my ears. “That’s it, baby. Give in to me. Fuck, you’re fucking perfect writhing for me.”

I still hear the music, and no other outside sounds, but his voice traveling through the headphones is a tether pulling me toward reality.

“Such a fucking good girl. Meant to take the pleasure, however you can. Look at that gorgeous cunt, begging to be filled.”

I let out a moan.

“You like that, huh? You’d like to be filled?”

“Yes, fuck yes.”

“Not yet, baby. You need to earn it. That perfect pussy needs to earn my cock. Now be a good girl and come for me.”

As if it were just waiting for his approval, my body seizes immediately. The feeling starts deep in my core before making its way to my extremities. My toes curl, my fists clench, and my hips shake with vigor as the waves crash into me.

When they finally ebb, I’m a puddle of flesh on the bed, my body totally spent. My breaths are heavy, but Ryan’s voice fills my ears once again.

“That was beautiful, Paige. But we’re nowhere near done yet.”

I swallow around the nervous lump in my throat. There’s a minute of reprieve, which I use to catch a breath, but then the buzzing connects to my skin again. It travels over my breasts, catching on my nipples deliciously. It trails down my stomach, prickling my sweat-covered skin. It gets closer and closer to the spot I need it, and just when I’m ready for it to connect to my clit, Ryan removes it.