Текст книги "Sinfully Mine"

Автор книги: Kendall Ryan

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She glares at me, not amused, probably still cranky from the orgasm-denial tactic I used with her earlier. Too fucking bad. I didn’t get off either, princess.

“And for another thing,” I continue. “Scotch is whiskey made in Scotland and aged in oak barrels for at least three years.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Close your eyes.”

“Stop being ridiculous. A little bit of Scotch isn’t going to douse this need I have.”

“The sooner you cooperate, the sooner—”

“Fine.” She closes her eyes and fixes a polite smile on her face. “Happy?”

“For now.” I bring the glass under her nose. “Inhale.” She does, drawing a deep breath, and with it the distinct harsh scent. “Good. Open your eyes.”

She does, blinking them at me, clearly wondering what game we’re playing.

“Scotch is a man’s drink. The taste is raw masculinity filled with complex, biting flavors, a rich caramel color, and even a price tag that speaks of sophistication and dominance.”

“I see,” she says, her response coming out as more of an exhale than actual words.

“Scotch is a drink that’s meant to be savored and enjoyed slowly. Just like my first time with a new submissive, it’s important to use care and go slowly. Tossing it back as a shot would be a damn shame for something so exquisite.”

Her eyes follow mine as understanding dawns in them. I’m not in this for a quick fuck. We will do this, explore this thing between us, but it will be in a controlled fashion, and it’ll happen when and how I say.

“Open for me.” I bring the glass to her mouth and allow her a tiny sip, knowing the smoky flavors are burning her tongue as she swallows.

Everything I do, the core of who I am now, is all about restraint. I don’t know why it’s so important for me that she see that. It just is. I’m not that carefree, hope-filled guy of twenty she remembers. From the way I conduct my business to the scenes I share with my subs, it’s a transaction. A give and take. Goal. Set. Match.

“Reece?” She averts her eyes, her fingers toying with the hem of her dress in the most distracting way.

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can.”

“Will you be . . . are you . . .”

“Get it out, sweetheart.”

“Are you sleeping with anyone else?”

Straightening my shoulders, I set the glass of Scotch on the low table in front of us. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” My tone is gruff and I instantly regret it. I hate how all my reactions with her make me feel as if I’ve done something wrong.

My rough growl is like a slap. She lowers her chin to her chest and twists her hands in her lap. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that I’m not, and I’m clean. I got tested after I found out Tony was cheating on me.”

Shit. Now I feel like even more of an asshole. She’s trying to have a serious, adult conversation with me, and I respond with some possessive, macho comment.

Lifting her chin, I force her gaze to mine. “That’s good to know. I don’t have anyone else I’m seeing right now, and I’m clean too. But whenever we play, we can use condoms if you prefer.”

A small smile forms on her lips. “No,” she murmurs. “If it’s just me and you, we don’t have to.”

Fucking hell. The erection I was sporting all throughout dinner? That motherfucker is back, pressing on my zipper and throbbing like it’s his damn job. Knowing I’ll be balls deep inside her without a layer of latex between us is . . . indescribable.

Macey rises from the couch. “I better get some sleep. I’m meeting Cameron’s new fiancée tomorrow.”

Shit, that’s right. Hale proposed, and Brielle said yes. “You’ll like Brielle. She’s sweet, and she’s good for him.” I rise to my feet and Macey gives me a hug to thank me for dinner. “How long until your new place is ready?”

“Not long. Is that a problem?”

“You can stay as long as you like. I’m just trying to figure out if I should have you a key made.”

“No, I’ll be out of your hair in a few days.”

I nod, ignoring the deeper meaning behind her words, and the sinking feeling in the pit of my gut. “Good night.”

Chapter Six

Macey

 

Of course I’m running late. Today will be my first time meeting Brielle, the new woman in my brother’s life. From the little bits I’ve picked up through conversations with Reece and Cameron, I sense that this is something he’s serious about, which surprises me given his past.

After the fiasco with his ex, that bitch-face Tara, I watched my brother change into a man I barely recognized. He grew hard, cold, and distant. I knew he was spending a lot of time with Reece, and now I understand why. He was sinking deep into the world of BDSM, a world I don’t understand, but I aim to. A world with mystery and sex and possibilities. It’s not lost on me that the exact thing Cameron ran to after licking his wounds is the same thing I’m doing post-breakup. Maybe it runs in the family.

Locating a parking spot at the restaurant/wine bar where we’re meeting, I maneuver my car into the tight space and kill the engine. This next hour should be nothing if not interesting.

As I make my way inside, I smooth my silk top over my hips, which seem to have grown rounder. Unless these jeans shrank. Geez. Refusing to feel self-conscious, I brush the thought away. That dipshit Tony would have slept with Pinky regardless of what I looked like, I’m pretty sure. Besides, Reece seemed to have no problem with my appearance. The way his dark brown eyes caressed every curve, every detail made me feel flushed and warm. I’ve filled out from the girl of eighteen he once knew.

Entering the restaurant, I pause to allow my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim interior. We’re meeting at a new wine bar in the heart of Chicago, and despite it being a little early in the afternoon for happy hour, there are couples and a few small groups seated at the bar and high-top tables filling the space.

I spot Cameron immediately. He sees me too, rising to his feet with a warm smile to greet me.

“You found it,” he says, putting his arm around me for a hug.

Despite not living here for the last several years, my brain seems to recall the city. “Your directions were perfect. Good to see you.” I return his hug.

The woman with him rises to her feet too. She’s petite and pretty, with wide eyes and a pouty mouth. It’s clear why he likes her. But when I notice her hair is in a casual ponytail and she’s dressed simply—wearing jeans, flats, and a plain cotton sweater—I decide I like her too. At first glance, she’s nothing like the overdone designer-wearing, fully manicured ex I despise. That’s an automatic ten points right there.

“Macey, I’d like you to meet Brielle.”

“Hello,” she says, softly, looking between Cameron and me as if she’s nervous.

I suppose this is akin to meeting his family, because with our parents gone, it’s only me. Well, and Nana.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” I say, leaning toward her with open arms for a hug.

She squeezes me and then we each take a step back, and when we do, we’re both smiling.

Cameron watches us, his contemplative mood hard to read. He’s quiet, and whenever his gaze flicks over to me, he frowns.

The waitress strolls up, delivering the drink menu.

“Shall I pick us a bottle?” Cameron asks us, glancing at the selection.

“Sure,” Brielle and I both say at the same time.

Trying to keep the mood light and friendly, I ask Brielle about her work and where she grew up, and she chats steadily as we sip our wine. My first hunch was correct—I like her. She’s sweet and smart, obviously a nice, normal girl, which is all I’ve ever wanted for my brother.

Cameron is so quiet, I ask him what’s wrong, but he merely shakes his head, frowning at me again. What the hell crawled up his ass? It’s the first time I’ve seen him since Reece spoke with him about our arrangement. I guess he’s not as okay with it as I thought.

When he excuses himself for the men’s room, I use the opportunity to switch to some girl talk, and maybe even pump Brielle for information.

“Well, everything I heard from Reece and Cam about you has been spot-on. I can tell you’re going to be really good for my brother.”

She smiles at me. “Thank you. He’s an amazing man, and I’m lucky to have him in my life.” We smile at each other for a sappy moment, before she asks, “You know Reece?”

“Yes. He and I have an interesting past. I had no idea about this current . . . preferences, though.”

“He’s a fascinating guy, that’s for sure,” she says, her cheeks flushing slightly.

“So I take it you know about the club.” God, I hate to think about her and my brother there. Ew. Gag me.

Brielle’s eyes widen and she chokes on her sip of wine. “Uh . . .”

Knitting my brows in confusion, I really hope I’m not stuffing my foot in my mouth. “I’m sorry . . . I thought . . .”

“Yes, I do,” she answers definitively.

“What can you tell me about Reece’s involvement in BDSM?” I hate that I suddenly feel like a lawyer, interrogating her for information. In my mind, this was going to be a smoother conversation. Instead I’m blurting things out without even thinking.

“I can’t speak much to that. I can only speak to what I’ve seen of him, and from what Hale has told me. Reece is a good man, but he doesn’t trust women. Hale says he should’ve taken a sub years ago, but he’s stubborn and refuses to settle down.”

Interesting.

“Why? Are you . . .” Brielle squints at me, apparently trying to read my intentions.

I shrug. “I’m just coming off of a bad breakup and looking to have some fun, that’s all.” I hold up my hands in surrender. “And Crave seems like the perfect place to do it.”

“A rebound fling,” she says. Frowning, she swirls the wine in her glass. “Just be careful with him. Reece is one of the good guys. I wouldn’t want to see him get hurt.”

Her concern feels genuine, but it’s misplaced. I’m pretty sure the big, bad Dom can handle himself. But before I can answer, Brielle’s eyes widen, and I sense Cameron’s presence looming behind me. I turn and see him fuming, his jaw ticking

“For fuck’s sake. First Reece comes to me, and now this.” Cameron pulls out his chair, but he doesn’t sit. He remains standing over me. “Listen up, Macey. You’re my goddamn sister. I don’t want to hear about your exploits. I don’t want to think about you getting in over your head with this. Lucky for you, I trust Reece implicitly. But I still don’t want it thrown in my face.”

Letting out a deep sigh, I fight against the anger rising inside me. He has no place telling me who or what I can do. “I didn’t like learning about your involvement in the club either.” I nod to Brielle. “I don’t like thinking about you tying up your fiancée here in knots and doing God knows what, so let’s just agree to one thing right now. You stay out of my sex life and I’ll steer clear of yours. Deal?”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he frowns and glares at me, obviously fighting to maintain his composure. “Done.”

I’m pretty sure he wants to punch something, but at least he’s going to back off. For now, anyway.

I toss back the last swig of my wine. “I think I better be going. It was very nice meeting you, Brielle. I’m sorry things got a little awkward at the end.” I try to chuckle, but it feels weird on my lips, and Brielle looks at me with sympathy. Hell.

“No, it’s not awkward at all. I’m so happy we met.” She pulls her cell phone from her purse, insisting that we swap numbers. “If you need anything as you get settled back into the city, anything at all, please call me. Even if it’s just to go get a pedicure, or someone to drink a margarita with.”

I fight back a strange wave of emotion at Brielle’s offer. I really don’t have any friends left in the city. I’m sure I could look up some old high school friends, but that holds no appeal. High school was a weird time for me. Between losing my parents, being taken in by Nana, and secretly dating Reece, my plate was full, and I just sort of drifted through those couple of years until I could escape.

“Thank you. I will,” I promise. “I love a good margarita.”

“I know just the place then. Text me whenever.” She stands up and hugs me.

I seriously love this girl.

“Good job with this one,” I tell Cameron, some of my annoyance toward him fading.

“Thanks, sis. I love you, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” I pull on my coat and grab my wallet. “Can I chip in for the wine?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve got it.”

I’m guessing they’re going to stay and finish the rest of the bottle, and he’s being kind—he knows I don’t have a job yet. My savings was padded pretty nicely, but still, that won’t last me forever.

“See you around!” I call out over my shoulder, stealing one last look at the cute couple.

I used to be that couple, in love with wide-eyed happiness. Now I’m a jaded, unemployed hot mess. I head back to Crave, which seems to be quickly becoming my own little escape from reality.

Chapter Seven

Reece

 

I’m talking with my security manager in the camera room when Macey arrives back at the club. I watch her walk through the bar on the screen overhead. She moves confidently toward the elevator, looking sexy, her hips swaying as she walks. I can’t help but remember last night on the couch, feeding her small sips of Scotch as I watched her body’s reactions to me and the liquor, the way her nipples hardened beneath her dress, begging to be licked.

“Boss?” he asks.

“What?” What the fuck were we talking about?

It’s crazy how just the sight of her gets my blood pumping¸ my dick hard, and all thoughts to flee my brain, only to be replaced with fantasies of pinning her down and fucking her hard and fast.

“That switch who lost her paddle last weekend . . . what do you want me to do?”

Oh, right. “We’re not a fucking lost and found. Tell her it’s her responsibility to keep track of her equipment while she’s here. End of fucking story. Now, are we done here?”

He nods sharply. “Yes. Got it.”

“Good.”

I stride from the office and head straight toward the elevator, still able to pick up notes of Macey’s scent in the air. After checking in with my staff, I planned to go back to my office and get a few more hours of work done, but now nothing can keep me from jumping into what I know will probably end in a big fucking mess.

The elevator takes its sweet-ass time, but finally I stroll into my apartment. “Macey?” I call out, not seeing her.

Music comes from the guest room, so I knock lightly on the door.

She opens it, looking good enough to eat. Her hair flows in loose waves over her shoulders, and her big blue eyes latch onto mine. She’s dressed in fitted jeans that hug her spankable ass, and a silk top that drapes beautifully over her full breasts. Her skin looks so soft, I want to reach out and touch it, just to prove to myself that there’s no way it’s as soft as I remember.

“Busy?”

She glances back to the laptop that’s open on her bed. “No, I was just shopping for curtains online.”

I tilt my head, continuing to watch her. “Would you like to do something more interesting?”

“Sure.” She smiles at me, her brain already working.

I lean in close, letting my mouth and nose brush over her neck, and feel the pulse thrumming under her skin. She smells incredible, lightly scented with lavender and vanilla. I want to taste her, but that will come later when she’s naked and waiting, and I can take my time licking from one spot to the next.

“You are to go down to the third floor and meet me in my private play room. It’s the last room on the end, and the security code is 0413.”

“Your birthday,” she says without hesitation.

Pausing, I swallow, surprised as hell that she remembers that detail. “Yes. April thirteenth.”

She looks down at her outfit. “Should I get ready first?”

Fighting off a smile, I shake my head. She’ll be in her birthday suit soon. “You’re fine like that. Let yourself into the room, and remove your shirt and jeans. I want you to wait for me on the bed in your bra and panties. While you wait, think of your safe word. When I arrive, you’ll tell me what it is.”

“Okay,” she says softly. A pink flush spreads over her chest, as if she’s realizing this is really about to happen.

My own heart is hammering in my chest as I watch her turn and head for the door. Her round, apple-shaped ass taunts me with every step she takes. I can feel myself slipping already, and we haven’t even begun.

When the door to the apartment closes, followed shortly by the ding of the elevator, I dig my cell phone out of my pocket and press the button for a number I haven’t called in a long time.

“Oliver?”

“Hey, Reece. How are things?”

“I need some backup in a scene. Are you free?”

“Sure. Not a problem. When are you thinking?”

“Give me ten minutes, then meet me in my private room.”

“See you then.”

Arriving at my private room, I pause at the door to type in the security code, then let myself in. The overheard lights are off, and the shades are drawn, leaving only faint splashes of afternoon light to peek around the edges, casting the room in dim shadows. Macey is sitting at the end of the bed, her feet dangling from the floor. The generous swell of her cleavage spills over the cups of her black bra, and a small piece of matching black lace barely covers her between her legs. Her hair is loose, cascading over her bare shoulders, and her cheeks are rosy. She looks perfect.

I stalk closer, moving slowly and deliberately, letting her experience every bit of the uncertainty evident in her features. She chews on her lower lip, waiting, watching me. I stop directly before her, close enough to touch, but for now I keep my hands to myself. My cock is already half-hard, and if she hasn’t noticed yet, she’s going too soon.

“Have you chosen a safe word?”

“Yes,” she says. “Pancake.”

I smirk, fighting the urge to bite my lip. “Fine.”

Closing her eyes, she shakes her head and draws in a big inhale. “Sorry, I’m just a little nervous.”

“About what?” I ask, needing to be further inside her head.

Her gaze drifts to the toy bag I’ve placed just inside the door. “Pain.”

I shake my head. “Nothing to worry about.” Something tells me that any scars after our encounters will be psychological, not physical. Besides, I don’t enjoy doling out pain. “Can I make you more comfortable?” I ask, my gaze drifting down to the cups of her bra.

She nods.

Reaching behind her, I unclasp her bra, needing her to feel every bit as exposed as I do.

Macey doesn’t cover herself; she doesn’t cower. She holds her shoulders steady and lets me carefully remove the piece of lacy lingerie.

Her full breasts, unrestricted by the black lace, tumble freely into my waiting hands. It’s been years, six torturous years since I could touch her like this and make her feel good. I skim my thumbs across her nipples and she shudders, arching into my touch. Watching her nipples tighten as I stroke them, I’m reminded of little pink gumdrops, my favorite candy, and I bet she tastes just as sweet.

“You have beautiful tits, sweetheart,” I tell her.

Macey looks up, continuing to sit perched on the bed while I stroke her breasts and nipples. She presses her thighs together—the movement subtle, but not unnoticed.

“Are those panties getting wet for me already?”

“Yes, sir,” she murmurs, pushing her breasts into my hands, letting me massage and fondle her delicate skin. A knock at the door interrupts us, and her half-lidded eyes fly open, her expression puzzled. “Expecting someone?”

“Yes. Sit tight.”

I answer the door and let Oliver inside. Part of me is beginning to understand why Hale called me in for backup in his session with Brielle—he might not have known how to handle the depth of his emotional connection to the submissive under his command. No way in hell do I want to explore the similarities there between us.

“Thanks for coming,” I say, shaking his hand.

“Of course. However I can help, I’m here.”

I turn toward Macey to find she’s crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her breasts, and is sitting straight as a stick on the bed like someone jammed a pole up her ass. Remember when I said I’d be calling the shots, princess?

I stop in the center of the room, and Oliver stills next to me. “Macey, come here.”

Keeping one arm over her chest to cover herself, she slides down off the bed until her feet touch the floor. With her tits jiggling as she moves toward us, Macey’s wide gaze pings between me, Oliver, and the floor.

“Remove your hands, please,” I say when she’s standing directly in front of us.

Her eyes round even more. “Reece?”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to use that safe word already, and over such a simple request. Show him those gorgeous tits.”

She swallows, her nerves evident, though her gaze never wavers from mine. Her lips tighten as she lowers her hands to her side, leaving her in just the black lacy panties that I’m itching to tear from her body. Her stomach is flat, but soft, and her hips curve in that delicious hourglass shape I love on a woman. She looks damn good topless.

I glance at Oliver to see his throat work as he swallows, but ever the consummate Dominant, he appears relaxed, and of course says nothing.

Just as I sense her nerves and confusion peak, I introduce him at last. “This is Oliver. He’ll be assisting with your training today.”

“Um . . .” Macey shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

“Oliver, this is Macey.” I nod to the half-naked beauty in our presence.

He extends his hand toward her and she reaches out dutifully and shakes it, but I can tell her head is spinning. She’s never normally this quiet.

“It’s nice to meet you, Macey,” Oliver says. “I work here at Crave, teaching classes to couples who are interested in exploring BDSM.”

I know she assumed it would just be the two of us—hell, I did too—but at the last minute, I decided to mix it up.

Her eyes find mine, and when I give her a tight nod, she says, “Okay.”

Oliver chuckles, his face brightening as he does. “It’s okay to feel nervous. Most people do their first time.”

“I’m not nervous,” she lies.

“Good then. We’ll jump right in,” I say.

Turning to address Oliver, I palm one of Macey’s weighty breasts in my hand. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

He knows I’m giving him an open initiation to touch her, but Macey doesn’t. It’s like Dom code for, Yes, you can play with my new toy. I have to do this, I tell myself. She’s not mine, and she never will be.

Oliver lifts his hand to her other breast, brushing the back of his knuckles over the generous curve of it, and I instantly want to beat him within an inch of his life. The cocksucker. I take a deep breath and reach for my control.

“She’s perfect,” Oliver says, his tone low. Macey watches me while he strokes her, and I have to tamp down the murderous feelings raging inside me. “Are these C’s?” he asks, his voice slightly husky.

“D’s,” she corrects him, her voice small.

“And real,” he adds, feeling the weight of her soft breast in his hand. He plucks her nipple firmly between his thumb and middle finger, and Macey lets out a swift grunt of surprise. “Is ménage one of your hard limits?” Oliver smiles at her sweetly, continuing to caress her breast.

Macey’s eyes widen and she opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

“We’ll get to all that later,” I say, answering for her. Or maybe I just don’t want to hear her answer. “Just some simple play to start first. Macey’s a virgin to all this.”

Oliver nods, then steps away to retrieve my toy bag.

I take Macey’s hand and lead her to the bed. “You okay so far?”

She nods. “Yes.”

At my request, she lays down in the center of the bed, leaving Oliver and me free to sit on either side of her on the oversized mattress. As I slide her panties down her legs and drop them from the end of the bed, Oliver sets an arrangement of implements on the bed beside me. They’re all harmless, but that doesn’t mean Macey’s eyes haven’t gone as wide as saucers.

“Let’s begin with this,” I say, picking up a strip of black silk.

“A blindfold,” she says.

“Yes. And while normally I don’t permit my subs to speak during a scene unless I ask a question or they need to use their safe word, for this first time, I’ll allow it.”

She nods.

I hand the blindfold to Oliver and he secures it over her eyes, knotting it behind her head.

“Lay back, and try to relax,” I tell her. “Take in all the surroundings, everything you can feel, using all of your senses. Sight often prevents us from seeing things as they truly are. You saw all of my toys, and began to feel anxious.”

Then I pick up a large black feather made of synthetic silk and trail it over her belly. “When you’re less worried about watching, you’re free to actually feel.” She begins to relax into the bed as I tickle the feather over her ribs, up to her breasts, and back down again.

Her harsh breathing begins to slow as I treat her to light, soft caresses. “How does this feel?”

Her mouth relaxes, and I can tell she’s stopped thinking so much. “It’s nice,” she murmurs.

I stop at her mound. “Open your legs, sweetheart.” She parts her legs, but only a couple of inches. “Nice and wide so Oliver and I can see how pretty and wet your cunt is going to get for us.”

She licks her lips and spreads her legs. It’s seems she’s channeled her inner seductress and is willing to play the game.

“Pretty girl,” I murmur, my voice coming out thick. Using my thumbs, I part her inner petals and use the glistening moisture there to stroke her clit.

Macey twists on the bed, lifting her hips toward my hand. Christ, she’s been right on the edge since the restaurant. She’s going to go off like a rocket, and when she does, I want to be the only man watching her.

My eyes travel up to Oliver’s, who’s practically salivating with the desire to taste her sweet juices. When I catch his attention, I mouth silently, Get the fuck out, and cut my eyes to the door.

He frowns, his jaw tightening, but rises silently from the bed and crosses the room to leave. There’s no sound when the door closes behind him, and I’m certain Macey has no idea he’s left.

Grasping my hand that’s now resting on her thigh, Macey pulls it back to the juncture between her thighs. “You can touch me, sir,” she breathes.

Goddamn it. She’s the worst submissive ever.

“I’m going to punish you for that.” I ought to spank her. Instead I’m just going to make her suck on my cock and withhold her orgasm until she’s ready to cry from frustration.

Removing black leather straps from my bag, I grab each of Macey’s ankles, securing them in turn to the bedposts. Then I tie her wrists in front of her in a series of complicated knots that still allow her some movement. She wiggles her fingers and twists on the bed, turning her head from side to side although the blindfold ensures she sees nothing.

“Stay still,” I remind her.

Testing her new restraints, she shifts her legs, which remain spread, and moves her hands, which remain tied in front of her. She looks gorgeous naked, bound, and blindfolded. Maybe now she’ll be obedient enough to lose herself in this scene.

I tug down my zipper and take out my cock. It’s hard, ready, and aching for her touch. Kneeling beside her on the bed, I stroke myself slowly.

“Remember when you asked if you would be able to touch me?”

She turns her face toward my voice. “Yes.”

“You’re going to make me come, and you’re going to do it as quickly as you can. I’m going to time you. However many minutes this takes is how many times I’ll spank you when we’re done, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she says, a slight tremor to her voice.

“And considering that I can usually fuck for over an hour, you’d better bring your A game.”

She sucks in an inhale, her chest shuddering with the movement.

“You want to challenge me? Fine. Here’s your chance to take control and test my stamina.” I push my hips closer to her until my cock brushes against her bound hands. “Clock’s ticking, sweetheart.”

Realizing I’m not going to untie her, Macey grips me, awkwardly at first since she can’t see what she’s doing, and begins stroking up and down. Every time her fist reaches the base, I can feel the brush of the rope against me, and while it’s an erotic sight watching her bound hands work up and down against me, it’s not exactly the most practical.

“Easy. I don’t want rope burn on my dick, baby.” Taking her hands, I reposition them, lifting both hands over my shaft so she can use her palms together.

It feels good, even with her clumsy movements, and I’m just about to pat myself on the back for dreaming up this scene when she totally surprises me.

“Can I use my mouth, please, sir?”

Who am I to refuse a request like that? “Permission granted.”

Lifting her up by shoulders, I ease her into a sitting position while I continue kneeling before her. I grip my cock at the base and curl one hand around the back of her neck, drawing her forward. “I’m right here.”

Unaccustomed to being without her sense of vision, Macey opens her mouth and waits, letting me place the head of my cock on her tongue.

Without hesitating, she slides her mouth down my steely shaft, sucking me in like a motherfucking Hoover vacuum. What the hell? When did this woman learn how to deep throat like a porn star?

I fist my hands at my sides, fighting the urge to touch her while she bobs up and down over me, laving her tongue over my shaft and balls, and sucking me down her throat.

Fuck.

Just when I think it can’t get any hotter, she lowers her bound hands to her pussy and begins rubbing her clit with one extended finger. My cock hardens even more, my balls drawing up close to my body as my release builds.

I’m a sick fuck, but I can’t resist watching this again. The memory of her touching herself back then, working her swollen clit with the pad of her middle finger, just like I showed her, was hypnotic. After, of course I felt like the world’s biggest fuck up. I met Hale for a game of basketball later that day, and all I could think about was that I just taught his little sister to masturbate.

Her hot, wet mouth works me over while she brings herself closer and closer to release. I’m transfixed . . . a man out of control. My eyes follow her every greedy movement as she sucks on my cock like it’s her favorite candy, and her fingers work faster and faster between her thighs. She whimpers, and moans around me. She’s close, and I’m powerless to stop this. Letting out a low, throaty cry, she comes—hard—her thighs trembling, and her mouth continuing to slide up and down on me.