“Fuck it,” he grunts, and he thrusts into me hard.
Slowly is over, but still I watch as he pistons his hips and fucks me hard. One thrust, another, another, another, until—
He buries himself inside me so deeply, and though I’m not supposed to feel, I can’t help it. He pulsates inside me. I regard his face, perspiration emerging on his brow line and moistening his black hair. His eyes are closed, and a subtle shudder racks his body.
This is what Braden looks like when he comes. I’ve always known it, but I’ve never taken the time to appreciate it. To see it.
Until now.
He finishes his climax and then rolls off me. He rests on his back and closes his eyes, breathing rapidly.
Am I allowed to speak now? I’m supposed to be seeing, even though I long to lean over to Braden and press my lips to his forehead.
I’m bound, though, so I have no use of my arms or hands. My hips are still elevated, and without my arms, I can’t move the little stool.
So I watch him. I do as instructed. I see him.
His body shines with a subtle glimmer of perspiration, and his cock is still semi-hard. He keeps his eyes closed, and his breath comes in rapid puffs. Minute by minute, it slows down until he’s breathing normally, his eyes still closed.
I realize how hard he worked to give me this. To arrange our positioning so that I could see every aspect of our lovemaking.
And I think I love him even more.
A soft snore drifts out of his mouth. Braden is asleep, but he didn’t unbind me. He also didn’t tell me I could speak. So now what? I can sleep like this, but eventually I’m going to need to get up to go to the bathroom.
Luckily, I’m flexible. I stretch my leg over and nudge Braden’s calf with my toes. Nothing. I do it again, this time getting a response.
His eyes pop open. “Skye?”
I nod.
He smiles—that wide smile that is the sweetest reward because I see it so rarely. “You may speak now.”
“That was amazing, Braden, but I don’t think I can sleep tied up like this.”
“I’d never expect you to.” He sits up and deftly unhooks me.
I shake my arms out and rub my wrists.
“You aren’t chafed, are you?”
“I don’t think so. Just a little stiff.”
“You did really well,” he says. “Did you enjoy it?”
I nod. “I did. I really did.”
“Does that surprise you?”
“A little. It was hard to turn off my other senses, especially the feeling part. But when I forced myself to, I was able to see the beauty that exists between us. And it was beautiful, Braden.”
“Sex isn’t all about orgasms, Skye.”
How well I know. I never experienced an orgasm until Braden, and he isn’t always generous about doling them out for me. Which, oddly enough, turns me on even more.
“Where did you learn all this?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“You know, the bondage. The sensory perception and deprivation. Everything you do. You’ve opened my eyes to so much.”
“You’re probably thinking I have some elaborate answer to that question,” he says. “But I don’t. I enjoy sex. I enjoy kink. I enjoy being dominant in the bedroom, and I enjoy showing my partner pleasure.”
“But you’ve shown me things I’ve never imagined.”
“That’s because I see the big picture. There’s more to sex than cock in pussy. A lot more. And Skye, we’ve only just begun.”
Chapter Thirteen
“I’m having dinner with my family Saturday evening,” Braden says at breakfast.
My fork of scrambled eggs stops midway from my plate to my mouth. He’s not going to invite me to go along, is he? The thought scares me more than a little. But we are dating, and we do love each other. People who are serious about each other usually meet each other’s parents. Which means a trip to Kansas might be in my future.
“Okay.” I’m not sure what else to say.
“We have dinner together once a month. I’d like you to come along and bring Tessa.”
“Tessa?”
“Yeah. My brother doesn’t have the best taste in women. I think they might hit it off.”
“Wait. Did you just insult my friend?”
He shakes his head. “Of course not. I like Tessa. I think Ben might like her. I know my father will.”
“Wait another minute,” I say. “Are you hoping she’ll hit it off with Ben? Or with your father?”
Bobby Black is a widower. A billionaire widower thanks to his sons’ holdings. And still a very handsome man.
“For God’s sake, Skye, she could be his daughter. I’d like her to meet Ben.”
“It was a valid question,” I say. “Your father’s very good-looking. I mean, you look exactly like him.”
“Not exactly. My father and Ben both have brown eyes. I got the blue ones from my mom.”
“All three of you are pretty rockin’,” I say.