I was close to coming just thinking about it.
Fuck. Yeah. That sounded like an excellent fucking idea.
Chapter Thirty
Claire
Oh, my God, is this really happening to me right now?
I was letting Hunter tie me up. Not just ‘letting’ him. I hadn’t done a damned thing to stop him. I hadn’t even protested or asked what he planned to do. I had nodded, watching with wide eyes as he pulled out four ropes. Not rough ropes you buy at the hardware store. These were silky smooth, more like the kind of ‘ropes’ you use to pull back velvet curtains at a fancy restaurant. Not the sort of thing a biker, or any average man, would have ‘just lying around the house’.
Apparently, Hunter had planned ahead for this.
I trusted him implicitly, but this was way beyond my limited pre-Hunter sexual experience. This was Eyes Wide Shut or Fifty Shades territory. Territory I was definitely not familiar with.
I tugged on one arm and then the other, then looked to the foot of the bed. He had tied me firmly. I wasn’t going anywhere. Hunter was too busy tying my left ankle to notice my worried look. He moved on to my right as I stared at him in nervous anticipation. I was spreadeagle on the bed, naked, and feeling very, very shy about it.
And then Hunter did something unexpected.
He turned all the lights on. The room was bathed in bright light. Every inch of me was perfectly exposed.
“Hmm . . . much better,” he said, inspecting his handiwork with a look I recognized. It was a look of pure male appreciation. I felt hot and cold all over as his eyes left a trail over my skin. My nipples were hard, and I felt warmth pooling between my legs. But my thighs . . . my thighs were covered in goosebumps.
Along with every other inch of my body.
I wanted him to kiss me. Touch me. Hold me in his arms. But instead he just . . . looked. I felt mortified. And then eager. And then breathless, just waiting to see what he would do.
Finally, he stepped closer to the bed, trailing his fingertips over my body. My arms . . . then my belly . . . then my legs. He avoided touching my breasts or the sensitive place between my legs entirely. He did it again. And again. And again until I was writhing, tugging on the ropes, desperate for him to touch me where I needed him to. I wanted pressure. I wanted him to play with me the way he usually did. I wanted him inside me.
But he didn’t do what I wanted. He wouldn’t stop teasing me with those featherlight touches. I was on the verge of tears by the time he chuckled to himself with a satisfied smirk. He grabbed the ice cream, the scoop, and the whipped cream.
I moaned helplessly as he looked me over, deciding where to start.
He tilted his head to the side, then placed an ice-cold scoop of ice cream on each nipple. Another larger scoop was gently lowered between my legs. He decided against the whipped cream, tossing it to the side and climbing on top of me.
He didn’t touch me. He just lowered his head and started to lick.
Oh. My. God.
I felt my hips begin to rock almost immediately. He wasn’t even licking me there yet. He wasn’t in a rush to get there, either. He was just leisurely licking the rapidly melting ice cream off my breasts. I moaned and arched my back, wanting him to suck on my painfully hard nipples. He let his teeth graze the sensitive points and then moved down, teasing me with feathery kisses along my sides and belly.
I moaned in frustration as he skipped the goopy ice cream between my legs and started to nip my inner thighs, slowly working his way upward. I was holding my breath as he finally started to eat the slushy ice cream that covered my pussy.
I exhaled as his tongue found me, teasing and tasting my most delicate spot. I pulled on the ropes, wanting to bring him closer. If my legs had been free, I would have wrapped them around his head. But I couldn’t move. I lifted my hips into the air, and he laughed, moving away with them. He waited until I lowered my hips before starting to tease me again.
“Hunter!”
“Hmm?”
“Please . . .”
“Please what?”
“Stop teasing me!”
He bit my inner thigh and went back to what he was doing. For a long time he continued, moving back up to my breasts and back down again. He never applied the pressure I wanted or stayed in one place long enough to make me come. I was incoherent by the time he lifted his head and looked at me half an hour later.