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Forbidden Ritual

Page 8

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“God, no!” She blurted out her response, but when she met his gaze she saw the humor there and she cursed softly. “Damn you. It’s not that at all… It’s just hard for me to…” The words wouldn’t come.

“What… hand over your stubborn independence in exchange for a good relationship?” He rose to his feet and looked down at her while he unzipped his jeans, then ran his fist up and down the length of his erection as he considered her.

Imogen didn’t think she could get any more needy, but she was wrong.

“I think you’ve underestimated me. The rope isn’t just about the thrill, if that’s what you thought.” He gestured at her. “This, shibari, is about the next level for me. It’s a sign of ultimate commitment and trust.”

Battling down a rising sense of panic, she met his gaze. When she did, he put his hand back between her legs, and she had to blink back the wave of pleasure that shot through her groin when he stroked one finger over her clit and down the groove of her pussy.

“You’re so aroused, so swollen.”

Her face flushed. She could feel her hair sticking to the damp skin on her neck. Mumbling incoherently, she pressed her face against her tethered arm.

“You want to come, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“How badly?” He squeezed her clit, locking it between two fingers and rocking his hand.

“Oh, God.” She half sat, her wrists jolting against the rope at the headboard. Staring at him, she saw how still he was, how watchful. Her back arched against the bed, the tension in her hips and chest intensifying. Hot liquid ran down between her buttocks.

“So wet.” He ducked down between her legs, his mouth closing over her clit.

“Giles, please.”

He sucked her, took another lick, his tongue moving from her entrance up to her clit. Breathing over it, he sighed.

“Fuck me,” she cried out, “please!”

He moved his hands away from her pussy. “Are you agreeing to my terms?”

Oh, God! What were his terms? “Yes, Giles. Please, please fuck me.”

He stood up. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a condom packet.

Shoving off his black briefs he let them fall to the floor. His cock bounced free, slapping against his belly as he tore open the condom packet. The pulse in her groin beat wildly as he rolled the rubber sheath over his upright shaft. Then he climbed over her and moved into position. He rested a kiss on her breast over her caged heart, and then she felt the head of his cock at her opening. He filled her in one smooth lunge, pressing to her very center.

The room spun. Her eyes clamped shut and she bellowed aloud. Her wrists tugged this way and that as another liberating climax hit her.

He urged her on, rising up onto his arms, thrusting deep and rhythmically, his eyes shining with determination as he watched her. She was lost to it, her core clenching and unclenching around his cock, setting off another rolling wave of pleasure as it did it so. She was so wide open, and he was so deep. Her entire groin burned with pleasure, deliciously edgy with raw sensitivity and almost too much to bear.

She moaned, begged for mercy.

Still he pushed her on, his breath hot on her face as he arched over her.

He was getting closer and his skin shone damp in the half light, the occasional grunt escaping him as he worked himself into her. She knew he was giving her everything he had.

“Oh God, Giles, yes.”

He nodded, growing still, and his head went back, the muscles in his neck standing out as he let rip and roared. One last thrust, deep and hard, and she felt as if she’d been doused with liquid fire as his cock jerked inside her, over and again.

* * *

Afterward, he brought her iced water and held the glass to her lips as she drank. When he put the glass aside, he began to undo the rope. He started at her groin and left her wrists until last. She gazed at him through the haze of her afterglow as he worked. Each knot was undone with care, and he rubbed her skin gently and checked on her.

“You really enjoy this, don’t you?”

He flashed her a grin. “Kinky sex?”



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