With Visions of Red (The Broken Bonds 1)

Before the horror of my past can reach up and snatch my courage away, I say, “Taste me, Colton. And don’t stop.”

Without hesitation, he does. When his mouth presses against me, eliciting a soft moan, my eyes close. And I’m lost. Fallen down the rabbit hole.

10

All of Her

Colton

I have never been a greedy, impatient man. The years it’s taken to study the art of Shibari, the dedication, I have conditioned myself to not only understand patience, but to respect it.

Sadie strips me of all benevolence.

I’m insatiable.

A pure glutton as I run my palms over her thighs, savoring the quiver my touch provokes across her velvety skin. I’m just sampling right now, curling my tongue along her slick lips, teasing my teeth over her lovely clit. When I first glimpsed her sweet, pink pussy, it was all I could do not to fall to my knees and devour her whole.

Restraint. It’s not just a bondage term; it’s a religion.

And I’ve suddenly become a devoted practitioner.

I want to tease the experience out with her as much as I want to fulfill her. Every time her hips buck off the bench, it sends a pulse to my cock. He’s the greedy fucker. And as her thigh muscles flex, her legs straining, ankles puckering against the ropes, I can’t hold back any longer.

Sinking my tongue deep into her pussy, I taste her fully. Her sweetness consumes me, overpowering my senses, and her soft, soft skin—so wet—slides against my tongue, warm and beckoning.

Her breathy moans have me gripping either corner of the bench, my fingers damn near tearing through the leather. How long has it been since she’s allowed herself this release? I’m scared to know; the temptation to tie her down and ravish her might break me.

But she’s almost there now. She’s wound so tightly, all her muscles corded with the near release, that I have to grind my knees into the floor to ground me. The pain bursts through the lust-filled haze clouding my thoughts, and I focus solely on her. Each stroke of my tongue purposeful, each suck choreographed in sync with the arching of her back.

The rope hook near the top of the ceiling squeaks, and I glance up to catch her arms straining against the scarf. I latch onto her ass and scoot her forward, driving my tongue deeper. She cries out and sinks her mouth against her arm.

I want to tell her to let go—stop denying herself what her body needs. But I don’t want to lose our rhythm. This intense moment binding her to me. Instead, like the greedy fuck that I am for her, I decide I have to share—just a small piece of her—with the part of me that’s clawing like a wild animal to take every last bit of her.

Rearing back just enough so I don’t lose connection, I place one finger at her soaked entrance. Then I slide my finger inside, deep. Her ass comes off the bench, and I clamp my other hand tighter to her, holding her still. I want her to take it. Inserting another finger, I go deeper still, stroking her swollen flesh over and over until her walls clamp down around me.

As she fights her climax, wriggling her hips and refusing to make a sound, I slip my zipper down and let my hard, aching dick free. This won’t do. Not at all. It’s not nearly enough.

Quickly switching hands, I try not to miss a beat as I sink my fingers inside her and then wrap my cock with my other hand. Her wetness slides over my sensitive skin, and I groan against her as I stroke her come along my shaft, all the way to the head.

Fucking hell. I’ve watched her for what feels like forever—have imagined what she’d feel like. I’ve craved just a second where I could taste my goddess, but all that imagery was wasted. Just wasted. She’s beyond my fantasy.

And so I know—hell, do I know—that when I finally get to take her over the edge, I’ll be lost to her.

“Oh, God…Colton. I can’t…”

Her pleading breaks through my thoughts, and I pull away only long enough to find her eyes. Pushing my fingers hard against her swollen mound, I say, “Don’t think. Don’t fight. Just close your eyes and fuck my mouth.” Then I drop my head back between her thighs and nip her clit before my mouth surrounds her.

Hips bucking, she releases a strangled cry that pulses through me. I press deeper into her, my tongue caressing her clit as my other hand pumps my cock. And when she tenses—all sound muted until that single second when she shatters around me—I break free. I unleash a harsh groan as I spill my come to the floor, cock pulsing against her sweet wetness that still coats my hand, and we release together.

I stay where I am, just touching her, head resting against her pelvis, as I savor the aftershocks rolling off her to me. Her pants slow, and I look up into her face.

Her skin glows with a beautiful sheen of sweat. Features twisted, she looks pained, but I know that’s not true. I won’t let her feel guilty. That was our deal; no regret.

Standing slowly, I rise before her, still holding myself. Her gaze travels down.

“I’m still hard for you,” I say, running my palm along my shaft. “That’s what you do to me.”

I watch the slender column of her neck bob on a hard swallow. She clears her throat and says, “Can I taste you?”