TangledBound (2 page)

“Good girl,” he murmured as her orgasm slowed. Eventually he
withdrew his hand from between her legs.

She struggled to find her way out of the fantasy. Eyes half
open, she managed a tentative, “Um. That was different.”

He stared at her for long minutes before saying, “People
should do different things sometimes. Follow me.”

He stood abruptly and headed for the rear of the plane.

Her body obeyed without thought, fingers fumbling at the
seatbelt. Melanie shook her head sharply and forced herself to think
independently of her impulses.

Mind racing with possibility, she twisted to watch him until
he closed himself in the bathroom. She settled back into her seat and stared at
the top third of her paperback where it poked out of the pocket in which she’d
stashed it. Beside her, the snoring passenger shifted in his seat. Melanie
glanced over automatically—just in time to catch him adjusting his pants. Her
cheeks went up in flames and she quickly looked back to her book.

Okay. Options. She could remain in her seat, keep her knees
firmly together for the remainder of the flight, and go on with her life
without having experienced hot, mid-flight sex. Or she could go enjoy the sex,
which was sure to come with a generous side of Domination.

After another minute of indecision, in which she kept circling
back around to the whole “enjoy” route, she stood and followed him.

Cheeks burning from equal parts anticipation and
nervousness, she tapped on the bathroom door and hoped nobody was watching her.
The door opened immediately. She took a deep breath and slipped inside.

He reached past her to lock the door before she could turn
around. Warm lips nuzzled her hair away from her nape and caressed the
sensitive skin behind her ear. “I’m going to fuck you. By coming in here,
you’re saying yes. Tell me.”

Melanie closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the
door, overwhelmed by the need coiling deep inside. “Yes.”

With her explicit permission ringing between them, he spun
her in the tight confines and pushed her shoulders back against the door.
Melanie stared up into his eyes, unsure what to say to him.

He didn’t share her uncertainty. “Do you know what a St.
Andrews Cross is?”

She shook her head.

“It’s two beams mounted together in the shape of an ‘X’.
Your arms line up like this and your legs spread out the same way.” He pulled
her hands from his shoulders and stretched her arms up and out as far as he
could in the narrow confines of the tiny closet. “Your wrists would be secured
by padded leather cuffs and you wouldn’t be able to move from this position. I’m
going to let go now. Don’t move.”

“What about my legs?”

“You just close your eyes and worry about keeping your arms
in place.”

“Why can’t I look at you?” Her fingers already tingled from
the awkward position. “I want to see.”

“You don’t need to see anything. Your job is to trust and
feel.”

She swallowed down a little twinge of uncertainty. “Can I
know the name of the man I’m trusting and feeling?”

He grasped the sides of her stretchy smocked bodice and
dragged it to her waist. Surprised, she dropped her hands to cover her naked
skin.

“No,” he said sharply.

She froze. “No?”

“Put your arms back up.”

Melanie slowly returned to the position he’d established and
closed her eyes. Before she could work up the courage to ask for his name
again, he spoke.

“My name is Sam. You can call me Sir.”

Sam. Okay. She exhaled a slow breath and balled her hands
into fists, trying to ignore the burn settling into her triceps and forearms.
He reached up and pushed her fists farther apart. She bit her lip to keep from
complaining about the position and an instant later he ran his hands down her
arms and sides. His touch was so confident, it didn’t even tickle where she was
most ticklish.

With his palms measuring her ribs, he angled his hands to
cup her breasts between his thumbs and forefingers.

“These are pretty,” he said. “They would be even prettier
bound with rope. Do you know what hemp rope feels like, honey?”

“No Sir,” she whispered.

“It’s soft. It gets softer the more it’s used, as it absorbs
your perspiration and the oils from your skin. It can be dyed in different
colors. Dark purple for you, I think.” He squeezed her breasts and lifted them,
forcing her to arch her back in order to avoid discomfort. “Yeah, dark purple,
wrapped around your tits and down between your legs. Two strands of rope to
spread your pussy lips apart and hold your clit between them. I think I’d tie
the knot right at your entrance so every time you twist or twitch, you feel the
smallest pressure of penetration. A nice big knot for your tight little body.”

While he talked, her mind’s eye gave form to his words. She
could see herself spread open, wrists and ankles at cross points, purple rope
laced around her body. As if he’d already tightened the rope around her rib
cage, Melanie’s breath started to come in shallow, panting bursts.

“Ah, you like that idea.” He didn’t speak again for long
minutes after that.

Melanie was on the verge of saying something—what, she
didn’t know—just to fill the silence, when he drew the tight peak of one breast
into his mouth. Whatever words she meant to voice took the shape of a startled
gasp, pulled past her lips by Sam’s unexpectedly powerful kiss. He sucked hard
enough to sting, his mouth open wide around the entire areola, and he didn’t
just hold her there once he had her. Strong, rhythmic tugs seemed to inflame
lines of sensation running between her nipples and her core. Things deep down
in her body flexed in response.

When he covered her other breast with his free hand, she
barely registered the motion. The ache in her arms faded to nothing at all.
She’d never imagined her entire world could narrow down to one tiny point, but
there in the cramped bathroom, that was exactly what happened. By the time he
loosened his hold and released her, she barely remembered anything existed
outside the sensation of his mouth on her flesh…and when he claimed her other
nipple with the same fierce strike, she felt the beginnings of orgasm trembling
in her thighs.

Her wet, abused flesh stung as cold air dried his saliva.
Shaking, Melanie opened her eyes and lifted her head from the door to watch him
at her breast. The nipple he’d abandoned stood long and red, drawn out by the
force of his mouth. The lewd display shocked her. That couldn’t be right,
couldn’t—

“Close your eyes,” he ordered against her skin. “You’re not
ready to see.”

“What—”

“
Close
.”

As if connected to a switch he’d flipped, her eyes closed
again. Melanie dug her fingernails into her palms, fighting an overwhelming
desire to simply surrender. Somewhere in her thinking brain she knew this was
not smart behavior, that anything could happen, anything could go wrong. She
didn’t know him, shouldn’t trust him, but her body refused to heed her brain.

“I’m preparing you.” His steady, even voice penetrated the
tangle of conflicting impulses vying for dominance in her head. “Your nipples
are too small for clamps, but they’re so pretty and pink, they deserve to be
adorned. If I suck them long enough, clamps will stay for a little while.
Piercings would be a better solution.”

She tried to tell herself he was merely verbalizing a
fantasy, but deep down she didn’t want to believe it. She wanted to believe
something else, couldn’t let her mind dwell on the possibilities. Stainless
steel puncturing her delicate flesh—

“Spread your legs,” he said, interrupting her mental detour.

Distracted away from the dark potential, she focused on the
reality of the moment. In that reality, he raised the hem of her dress and
tucked it into the bunched-up fabric of her bodice where it twisted around her
waist. Melanie waited until he pushed her panties over her hips and down her
legs, and then she obeyed him by inching her feet as far apart as she could in
the narrow confines. Bare above and below the waist, she felt more vulnerable
than she’d ever been in her life.

“Maybe not hemp for you.” He adjusted the tilt of her hips
and drew his fingertip down the seam of her bare, sensitive pussy. “Maybe
bamboo because you’re a wet, wet girl and we don’t want to have to wash the
rope once it’s conditioned.”

Her cheeks flamed in response to his observation and the
warm slide of moisture down the inside of one thigh. “I’m sorry. I can’t help
it.”

“I wouldn’t want you to.” He nudged her slick lips apart and
pushed two fingers into her, so much deeper than he was able to go when restricted
by a seat and public eyes.

She groaned and her thighs quivered, threatening to drop her
weight straight onto his thrusting fingers. Sam hummed a sound of approval and
circled his thumb around her clit.

“Everything about you is soft and pink,” he said, delivering
the low compliment along with the stretching thickness of another finger. “I
could do so many things with you.”

Her breath hitched. “Tell me.”

“I don’t think so. I think this is enough for you for one
day.” He withdrew his fingers, leaving her pussy empty.

“Please tell me.” She pressed her mostly numb fists against
the cool walls. Even though he’d given her one hell of an orgasm already, she
wanted more. Needed more. Needed things she was too afraid to ask for, didn’t
know how to verbalize.

The sound of his zipper joined the droning hum of the jet’s
air circulation system. “Can you picture yourself in my dungeon? Your arms
spread for the cross, rope cutting into your skin, little gold hoops piercing
your wet red nipples?”

“Yes,” she whispered. She wanted to see more, wanted to know
what else awaited her, but tried to content herself with the scenario he’d
already provided.

“Good girl. Keep your eyes closed. I’m going to put on a
condom and fuck you now that you’re wet and hot and ready for me.” Foil
crinkled and tore, making his statement real.

“What does it smell like?” she asked, needing one more
element.

“Like leather and sweat and cinnamon oil I use when I’m
playing with your ass. Like you, because I’ve had you there a thousand times
and your cunt has soaked everything in the place.” He moved against her, still
wearing all his clothes except where necessity demanded otherwise. As he slid
his hands around her thighs, his cock rubbed between her legs. Her pussy
clenched, empty and needing, and she almost believed him, almost believed she
was born to spread her legs for him and obey every word he uttered.

“My arms hurt,” she moaned.

“Don’t move them.” Digging his fingertips into her thighs,
he lifted her in one sudden motion.

Her legs wound around his waist, a self-preserving reflex
that opened her wide. Sam shifted and the head of his cock slid against her,
right where the knots of the rope would be. He didn’t tease her though. No, he
flexed his hips and tunneled deep all at once and even though he’d widened her
with his fingers, his entry hurt.

“Ow, ow, ow.” She couldn’t keep her inner muscles from
contracting to push him out, which only served to increase the sting of his
size.

“Flex your fingers.” His even tone was gone, replaced by a
rough edge.

“Not that—have to stop. You’re too big.” But she couldn’t
escape. He held her pinned, one hand at her shoulder, the other at her hip, and
the force of his will binding her arms.

“You can handle it, honey. Take a deep breath and let me
in.” Not waiting for her to catch up, he eased his thick cock out until only
the head kept her open, paused a beat, and shoved deep again. Even as wet as
she was, even wanting him inside her as badly as she did, the second thrust
hurt almost as much as the first.

She did as he told her and took a deep breath while trying
to open. Her shoulders ached, but at least his powerful motion between her
thighs distracted her from the painful numbness between her elbows and
fingertips. Pain and pleasure quickly became one and the same as he established
a steady pattern, slow and careful out, fast and rough back in. Once she
figured out his pace, she clung to the long-short pulse like it was a life
jacket, the only thing keeping her afloat in the dark behind her tightly closed
eyes.

His breathing changed, a ragged warning that she was about
to lose her safety net. Long-short became short-short, quick and hard stabs
deep in her core. In a moment of panic, she dropped her arms and reached for
him. Agonizing fire tore through her muscles and she screamed. Before the sound
gained full power, he covered her mouth with his and swallowed her pained cry.

The rich flavor of his tongue momentarily distracted her
from the hot needles pricking her palms and fingertips, and just as the
sensation started to register again he did
something
. Adjusted his
stance, shifted his hold, and all her senses focused down to the point where
their bodies joined. Expert fingers slid across her clit, drawing her attention
away from pain and forcing her to acknowledge the erupting pleasure. Melanie
moaned into his mouth and clutched at his shoulders with hands that barely
functioned, desperate for an anchor as he drove her to a sharp, bright peak and
shoved her over.

As if he knew about her fall, he tore his lips from hers and
pressed his mouth to her ear. “I’ve got you. Let go.”

Later, she’d try to figure out why she believed him. Now,
she obeyed, just like she’d followed his every other command. Letting go freed
her to feel everything, from the pain arcing away from her elbows to the spike
of hot sensation spiraling out from her clit. This time when she cried out, he
didn’t silence her. Instead, he answered with a low grunt and a curse muttered
into her hair. His cock filled her so deep, she felt his hard length jump with
the force of his release.