Sloth (Sinful Secrets 1)

“Oh, like for the ailing people?”

He nods.

“I’d love to go to one. I want to help.”

“That’s what I love about you,” he says quietly. Without another word, he turns and goes.

I’m asleep in minutes, dreaming of his arms... his blue eyes, crinkled with his smile. Around the corner somewhere, Olive dances with my lipstick in her hand.

I don’t know what time I wake up, roused by the strange and lovely sensation of something vibrating in my pussy. My legs are spread, my knees bent and the soles of my feet touching, drawn up under my bare ass. As the undulations grow stronger, I try to writhe toward the pleasure and I find I can’t. I’m bound at the ankles.

I test my arms, both spread, and find they’re tied as well.

I open my eyes and look around the room. The canopy is gone, so I can see the moonlight pouring through the wall of windows.

I see the shadows shift outside, and find Kellan’s large form. He’s leaning against the thick cement railing of the balcony, watching as I struggle with desire.

I roll my hips. I clench around the thing inside my cunt and feel my clit throb. Oh—I want to moan.

I tug against the binds around my wrists. I gasp as the vibrations change. Now the egg is throbbing, working itself deeper into me... so deep, I have to move my hips. I lift my backside off the bed and watch as Kellan glides across the balcony.

The tempo of the throbbing increases. I pull against my binds because if I could just roll over, if I could get this egg thing closer to my clit, then maybe I could get off.

Kellan seems to drift onto the bed. In his black robe, he looks like the grim reaper as he leans his blond head down and licks my pussy. I’m reminded of a tiger’s tongue—and then I only know the trembling of my fists, the fierce throb deep inside me. I’m already so aroused, it only takes a few soft, hot licks before I’m pulsing. I gasp his name and let my pleasure take me under.

When I open my eyes, I find Kellan sitting near my hips. He’s cross-legged, his dark robe pooled in his lap.

I start to laugh at how hard I came, laugh out my embarrassment, when my gaze finds his face.

“... Kellan?”

His eyes are fixed somewhere out ahead of him, on the wall beside the door. He doesn’t look down at me as I say his name, nor in the seconds after.

“Hey,” I say more gently. “You okay?”

He blinks, and my gut clenches. There’s something strange about his eyes. About his whole face.

My hand flinches in its knot. “Kell—can you untie me?”

He blinks.

“Please?”

I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Anxiety streaks through me. What’s going on? I’m tied up—totally defenseless. How much do I trust him? Those are fear’s questions.

Then I see his mouth move—just a tremble—and everything falls away except a thick swell of concern.

I try to turn my body toward him, try to reach him with my hand. I can’t, of course.

“Kellan? Hey... what’s wrong?”

His eyes shift to my body; not my face. He blinks again, doll-like. In a low voice, he says, “You should go.”

“What?”

His eyes shut. As he opens them, he moves onto his knees and starts to untie me. I watch the gorgeous ripple of his shoulders, the column of his throat. His face is pained. His gaze is everywhere except my face.

As soon as I can sit up, I grab his arms and tug him toward me. “Kellan. Look at me.”