Six Signs of Submission (Desire Island 6)

Eventually, the hands glided up again, moving along her inner thighs. When his fingers came perilously close to the crotch of her panties, she instinctively tried to close her legs. At the same time, she couldn’t deny the spurt of tingling desire his touch elicited.

What would she do if he touched her there?

Would she let him?

Would she stop him?

Did she want it?

She held her breath, both terrified and thrilled.

But his fingers glided past her sex and back up her body.

She let the breath go, forced to admit she was disappointed.

Then his large hands cupped her breasts through the Spandex and lace that covered them.

Her nipples engorged, throbbing against the palms of his hands. A small moan escaped her lips before she could stop it. She gasped when she felt his fingers directly on her nipples through the fabric. He rolled and gently tugged them until she moaned again.

She startled when his voice spoke softly into her ear, his warm breath tickling her cheek. “May I reach into your bra, Lainey? I want to touch your breasts.”

Heat rushed into her cheeks, which was crazy. What was the big deal? They were both adults, for heaven’s sake. They were single and attracted to each other. And, more to the point, she was incredibly aroused. Her breasts actually ached with the need to feel his warm touch directly.

“Yes,” she breathed sibilantly, surprising herself by adding, “please.”

Large hands slipped past the fabric of her clothing. She drew in a sharp breath when he pushed down the Spandex and stretchy lace, baring her breasts to the air. Her nipples throbbed as he caught them between thumb and forefinger. He rolled the hard, aching nubbins until she moaned again.

Then, he gave her right nipple a sudden, sharp twist.

“Ouch!” Lainey cried, jerking in her bonds. “That hurt!”

Then his mouth was on her nipple, his wet tongue soothing away the ache.

A dark pulse of desire beat low in her core. Again, again, again, it drummed.

As if reading her mind or, more accurately, her body, Cooper obliged. He twisted her left nipple this time, until she again yelped. A moment later, that sweet, wet tongue suckled away the pain.

Then, to her dismay, his mouth was gone. Her nipples, still wet from his kisses, throbbed in the cool air. Goose bumps coated her flesh and she shivered, though not from cold.

Then his hand was on her throat. He spanned the width of it as he’d done at the juice bar. While that masterful touch had thrilled some primal part of her being that first time, the effect now was tenfold. She was so vulnerable, tied down on the table, unable to stop him as he slowly, inexorably, tightened his grip on her throat.

Her heart thrashed in her chest, her breath quickening to a pant. She wasn’t sure if she was terrified or more turned on than she’d ever been in her life.

Red light.

She could use the safeword to stop him. But she didn’t want to stop him. She wanted him to keep going. To push the boundaries.

He obliged, his large fingers digging into the soft tissue just below her jaw, cutting off her ability to breathe. How could she use her safeword if she couldn’t draw a breath? She barely knew this guy. What was she doing, scening with someone she barely knew? There was tension building behind her face and her lungs felt like they were going to explode. She couldn’t breathe!

Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. What if…

Then, all at once, the hand was removed.

Lainey drew in a deep, shuddery breath. Relief flooded her body, making her sag against the padded table. She laughed, the sound a little hysterical, even to her own ears.

“Shh,” Cooper said softly, his mouth again near her ear. “You’re doing really well, Lainey.” Soft hands again stroked her still-bare breasts.

In spite of herself, Lainey moaned with pleasure at his touch.

“You’re a natural, Lainey. You’re incredibly responsive. I want to take you further. I want to touch you more…intimately. Do I have your permission to continue, sexy girl?”

Mutely, Lainey nodded.

She startled when a large hand cupped the crotch of her panties. “Ooh,” she breathed as his palm rubbed against her sex. Her clit throbbed, a gush of moisture wetting the silk between them.

His hand moved gently but insistently, the grind of his palm making her tremble with lust. It felt so good—so amazingly, spot-on perfect. She moaned, lifting her hips as best she could to increase the friction between them.

“You may not come,” he said in a low growl, without stopping what he was doing. “Not unless or until I say so.”

What the fuck?

Who was he to tell her when she could or couldn’t come?

Then his words floated back into her mind. “You will allow me to decide what you can and can’t do. You will trust me to take you where you know you want to go.”