The clothes fall carelessly to the floor and the cool air kisses my skin as I writhe on the bed and run the tips of my fingers over my hardened nipples.
Carter stands slowly, and I barely turn my head to watch him stalk around the bed, stripping slowly for me as well. With the only light coming from the windows behind me, the shadows dance around him and it’s intoxicating.
I can hear the clink of handcuffs before I see the metal shine in the pale moonlight, and it only makes me hotter for him. Before he commands me to, I raise my arms above my head and to the headboard made of thin planks. He only uses a single pair of cuffs, looping them through the planks and cuffing each of my wrists.
His fingers burn along my wrists and he lets them travel down my arm, tickling me, my breasts, my waist and then he dips a hand between my legs and I spread myself wide for him.
The groan deep in his throat is my reward, as is the spread of pleasure that runs through my body when he trails his thick fingers from my hot entrance up to my clit.
Writhing on the bed sends a mix of pain from the belt marks rubbing against the sheets and the pleasure from his touch.
He leaves me like that, breathing heavily on edge for him for a moment to grab something from the floor.
A tie, his tie. The silk runs along my cheek and then he tells me to close my eyes as he wraps it around me like a blindfold. My heart races at not being able to see and a new kind of excitement courses through my body.
Without being able to see, I can hear it clearly when he takes out another cuff as his fingers travel down my leg, to my ankle where he cuffs me. He does the same to the other side and I’m blindfolded and restrained for him.
My breathing comes in chaotically when I hear him walk around the bed again and the cold metal heats while the chill in the air makes me beg him to be touched. “Carter,” I whimper his name.
“Tell me the truth, songbird.” Carter’s voice is deep. but laced with something I haven’t heard from him in the bedroom for so long. A hard edge I don’t like to hear.
Although my heart batters in my chest with the mix of fear slipping into my veins, I whisper, “Anything.”
“You hate me, don’t you?” he asks me and with his question comes a click and buzzing. My back bows as he touches the cold metal of the vibrator to my clit. The pleasure is immediate and spikes through me.
“I love you,” I moan recklessly into the air as I pull at my cuffs, unable to move away from the intense pleasure.
He pushes it harder against me and I let out a strangled cry of ecstasy. I can feel myself clench around nothing as the intense waves of pleasure approach like the tide, creeping up and crashing harder and harder.
I’m so close. So, fucking close.
And then he pulls it away.
A gasp is torn from me and I try to look around. I want to hear where he is and what he’s doing over the sound of my own ragged breath. But as I do, my impending orgasm slowly dims, leaving me slick with my own arousal and desperate for him to get me off.
Swallowing down the disappointment and trying not to pull on the cuffs that dig into my wrists and ankles, I wait for him.
“You hated me when you came to the cell.”
I breathe in deeply, not wanting to remember how we started. My voice is raspy when I tell him, “I knew I wanted you.”
His thick fingers push inside of me and I can feel his knuckles brush against my front wall. My breasts swing, and my shoulder blades dig into the mattress as he finger-fucks me. “Fuck,” I moan, feeling the warmth spread through my body like wildfire as the bundle of nerves in my core heat and prepare to ignite.
“Carter,” I breathe his name as my neck arches and I feel the pleasure build higher and higher. “Carter,” I moan his name just before I cum.
And he pulls away before I can finish. My breathing’s chaotic and I try to rip the blindfold away, but my hands are cuffed.
“Carter!” I yell at him and all I get in return is a rough chuckle. He kisses my jaw even as I pull away from him.
“I don’t like this,” I warn him in a voice that wavers. I can feel a sense of dread flow into my blood.
“All you have to do is answer me.” His voice is easy as if this isn’t a trap. “Did you hate me?” he asks again, and my voice tightens.