Or, at least, what I imagine what making love would be like if I ever did it.
I suppose how good he can kiss is what got me in this position in the first place, and I shouldn’t be surprised by how adept he is given all his experience.
But even now, having been well-kissed by him twice in my life, I’m surprised by how quickly I want to melt into the sheets in a puddle of pure bliss.
My body begins to relax, and I find myself grabbing at him. Kissing him back with a hunger that almost matches his.
As if he’s rewarding me, his kiss becomes so fevered, so intoxicating, I feel drunk when he finally pulls away to drag his lips down my neck.
Finding the most sensitive spot, he breathes hotly against it before latching on and suckling.
In the dark, unable to see, everything about him is intensified.
The size of his big body covering mine.
The sound of his breath as he pants.
The slight trembling of his hands as they start to roam over me in pure reverence.
Eventually his mouth moves on, dragging down to my chest where he lavishes each breast with equal attention.
But he doesn’t stop there.
Seemingly knowing where every sensitive spot on my body is, he begins to worship me all over with both his mouth and hands.
And nothing seems to be off-limits.
Kisses are placed against my stomach.
My thighs are nipped.
The back of my knees are licked.
Sliding down, he even grabs me and turns me on my stomach so his mouth can kiss a path down my spine and latch onto the left cheek of my ass.
The sensation is so disturbing at first, I want to crawl out of my skin. Clawing at the sheets, I try to fight my way away from him.
Ignoring my pleas to stop, he growls.
His grip firm and his mouth relentless.
Suckling and alternating between each cheek, gradually each pull tugs at something knotted deep inside me, loosening it.
By the time his grip releases me and he pushes me flat on my back again, I’m a panting, needy mess.
Grabbing my knees, he spreads my legs wide, and I quiver with anticipation.
Ready to have him inside me.
Ready to be filled and whole again.
But he doesn’t slide up my body.
No, he shoves his head between my thighs.
Unease floods through me as I feel his breath puff against my wet lips.
I’ve pretty much let him have his way with me up to this point. Let him taste and feel almost every other inch of my body.
In the dark, in the silence, it’s been easy.
He’s just a phantom lover from a dream.
But there’s something about having his face up in there that feels too… intimate for my liking.
“Don’t,” I gasp and reach down, pushing at his head.
Growling, he tries to ignore me like he did when he had me on my stomach.
I couldn’t reach him then, but I can now.
Palms pressing against his forehead, each time he tries to get close to my pussy, I shove him away.
Growing frustrated with me, he grabs my wrists and yanks my hands off his head.
Absolutely determined to keep his face away from there, I slam my knees together, denying him access.
He drawls my name out in a warning, “Sophia…”
A tendril of worry curls in my stomach hearing his voice in the darkness. The tone… the sheer masculine weight of it is downright threatening.
But I refuse to bend on this.
I’ve already let him do a great deal more to me than I normally would.
He should be satisfied with what I’ve given.
Grateful he can’t see it, I lick my lips nervously before I tell him, “No, James. I don’t want to do that.”
Until now, the lack of words and quiet between us has been comforting. It’s made it easier to forget where I am.
It also made it easier to forget it’s him with me in this bed.
The silence that follows my denial is so complete, so foreboding, it’s everything I can do not to squirm with unease.
And the longer it drags on…
James finally lets out a sigh and then I sense him moving up the bed with my hands still clutched in his grip. “Very well, have it your way…”
Thinking he’s respecting me on this and letting it drop, I start to relax.
Only to stiffen when I hear a strange click followed by what sounds like the rattle of chains.
“James? What are you doing?” I ask as I try to yank my hands back.
Tightening his fingers around my wrists, he gives his own yank, forcing my arms above my head.
There’s another click quickly followed by the rattling of more chains.
Unable to see, I imagine the worst thing possible.
Afraid he’s going to bind me or tie me up, I yank hard on my arms again and roll away from him. Trying to use my body weight to slip my wrists out of his hands.