Unwrapping the Best Man

‘Are you wet for me again?’

I press a kiss to her shoulder as she nods, her stomach contracting beneath my palm.

‘Do you want me to touch you?’

‘Yes,’ she whispers, her hands reaching back to claw at my kilt.

‘No.’ I step back. ‘Not until I say.’

She looks at me over her shoulder, all mutinous and wanton in one. ‘Not fair.’

I can’t help but grin. ‘I want you to hold onto the post.’

Her eyes narrow but she does as I ask, and I sweep my hand lower, brushing over her curls. My intent is simply to tease but she tilts her pelvis into my touch, the impatient move forcing my fingers deeper. And fuck, I’m too turned on by the evidence of her need surrounding my fingers to rebuke her for taking what she wants.

I pull back and she makes a panicked whimper, the sound turning into a pleasing moan as I roll over her clit, make the move more deliberate and she bucks, one hand flying to cover mine as she tries to ride me, to take over and I nip her shoulder in punishment.

‘I told you to hold the post.’

‘But you’re driving me crazy.’

‘And I’m about to drive you crazier...’ I take hold of her hand, place it back on the post and squeeze her fingers around the wood. ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’

Her eyes blaze into mine. ‘You promise?’

I chuckle deep within my throat. ‘I promise. But this time you won’t come until I say. Understood?’

Her eyes flash, the colour in her cheeks deepens, and I know she’s reliving her forbidden climax against the tree.

‘Yes.’

‘Good.’ I reach around her to take up the free end of the cravat. ‘Lower your hands down the post.’

I watch her trail her fingers down the wood, her eyes still fixed on me.

‘Lower.’ I press a kiss to her shoulder, another nip. ‘Lower still.’

The move forces her to bend forward, her arse pushing me back and nudging at my hardness. I clench my jaw as the heat rushes to greet her, my cock so grateful for the sweeping touch. And I know the force of it, of every touch, every caress, every sound is amplified because it’s her. Caitlin. Surrendering to me.

I walk around her, a safe distance, as I wrap the silk around the bedpost and bind it to her other wrist, my eyes averted as she watches me tie her down and test the binding. There’s a little give, but not enough to free herself.

‘Perfect.’

I say it in reference to the bond but as my eyes trail over her I know I’m talking about her.

I deliberately chose to position her this way, to have her body facing away in an attempt to keep the hunger under control and my eyes out of hers. But I realise the error I’ve made, because now she’s bent over, her arse thrusting up, her breasts falling free and she’s all mine.

She’s all mine for the taking.

The image and idea merge and send the blasted sporran lifting parallel to the floor. She cocks one eyebrow at the sight and wets her lips, ever brazen. I know she likes that she can see how much I want her, but it’s my turn; I want the same from her.

I trail my fingers down her back as I walk away and turn to eye her salaciously upturned rear from a safe distance—the perfect vantage point. ‘Step wider.’

She does it.

‘More.’ The hint of her pussy, her wetness grips me, winds me, and I drag in a breath.

‘Again.’