Bound to Accept (17 page)

“
What,” he says thickly,
“are you wearing?”

“
A nightgown.”

He puts his hands on my hips, holding
me at a distance to look at me better, and I smile up at him. Even
when I'm wearing heels, he's still several inches
taller.

“
Do you like
it?”

“
Is that a trick
question?” His voice is hoarse. I feel the tip of his erection
lightly graze my stomach.

I slide my arms out of the robe and
let it fall to the floor in a heap of shimmery fabric. His eyes are
riveted to the transparent bodice. I knew he'd like that
part.

Leaning up on tiptoe, I whisper, “Want
to touch it?”

“
Sweet Lord,” he says.
“Yes.”

His lips come down on mine, and I wrap
my arms around his neck as he kisses me. His hands slide up and
down my waist, kneading the flesh beneath. He starts walking
towards the bed, taking me with him. My heels come off, but Tristan
only kicks them aside impatiently. He scoops an arm underneath my
bottom and hoists me up, dropping me onto the made bed.

He's on top of me in an instant, legs
bent on either side of my hips. He starts kissing down my throat,
across my collarbones, to my shoulders and then down the thin, thin
straps of my nightgown. I sit up a little, and shiver as I feel his
mouth through the lace, whispers of skin on skin. When he reaches
my breasts, I suck in my breath.

Tristan hears me, and when he sees the
look on my face, he carefully avoids the place he knows I want him
to go. He nips, licks, and kisses tightening circles around my
breasts, like knots cinching around a pair of bound wrists. I want
him to close the circuit, and make a sound of impatience. He laughs
huskily.

“
You want my mouth on
you?”

“
Don't make me
beg.”

“
But I like hearing you
beg.” He flicks out his tongue and I let out a shuddery little
“
oh
.”

“
Tristan,
please
.”

“
Since you asked so
nicely
.” He parts his
lips and takes me into his mouth, lace and all, and I thread my
fingers through his hair, letting my eyes slip closed. His hair is
very soft, and thick, like fur. It's nice not having my hands bound
for a change. I can touch him back, hold him in place. He's very
good at this. I love his mouth.

“
I love your mouth,” I
whisper.

He sucks harder. “Oh!” My
fingers tighten around the little tufts of hair I've claimed.
“You
bit
me.”

“
You liked it.” His voice
comes out muffled.

“
Well, yes,” I
sigh.

“
Don't complain, then.” He
bites my other nipple, too quickly for me to reassert my grip on
his hair, and then, after shooting me a wicked grin, moves down my
belly. As he slides down my legs, he moves his hands up, caressing
my ankles, my calves, my thighs.

His fingers grip the silky hem of the
nightgown and begin to roll it up with nimble, confident movements,
so that by the time his mouth reaches my navel, my thighs, and
everything that lies between them, are completely bare. I feel him
exhale against my pubis.

“
No underwear.”

“
Looks like I
forgot.”

He glances up at me. “I forgot,
too.”

“
Whatever will we
do?”

“
A few ideas come to
mind.” He lowers his head.

I like his ideas.

I like his ideas a
lot
.

But I'm not sure what to do with my
hands and arms. When they're bound, that problem is taken care of
for me. I end up folding them behind my head, the way men do in
movies when they get blowjobs, and it serves the dual purpose of
arching my spine and putting me in a better position to watch him
as he opens me up with his hands and his mouth. Readying me for his
cock.

I'm burning up. Sweat beads in my
armpits and also between my breasts. That's the way he makes me
feel—dizzy and feverish, like I've got a bad case of
flu.

I open my mouth, anticipating climax,
and let out a small squeak of protest when he stops
abruptly.

Tristan pulls his cock out of the
waistband of his pajama pants and expertly snaps a condom over
it.

“
You know how this works,”
he says, stroking himself lightly. “I get you all hot and bothered,
and then you come when I say you can come.”

He kisses my mouth. I can taste myself
on him.

“
I didn't realize we were
playing,” I whisper.

“
Who's playing? Spread
your legs.”

I move them apart, and he pulls the
nightgown out of the way. Tristan hoists himself back up, and
kneels between my thighs. Then he slowly lowers himself over me,
using his arms to keep from squishing me.

The blunt head of his cock is pressing
against my opening. Tristan shifts his hips, leaning to one side to
free one of his hands so he can move himself into position. I suck
in my breath as he slowly works himself into me, because now there
is pain, quite a bit of it, although once he's inside, he slides in
quite neatly.

And then—he stops.

“
Hello, Kelly's
virginity,” he whispers.

I laugh nervously, and it
hurts.

Tristan stays like that for a moment,
letting me get used to his size and the feeling of him being inside
of me. He's breathing quite hard, and his pupils look huge. He
smiles when he catches me looking at him, but his arms are tense on
either side of me and I can literally feel his restraint. I can
also feel him moving inside of me, and that hurts too, but then I
realize that there is a pattern to those movements, though I can't
believe it at first.

“
Are you using your penis
to tap out Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star?” I ask him incredulously.
“You are officially…the biggest dork on the planet.” Laughing may
hurt, but I can't help it. It really is too funny.

Tristan makes a hoarse
sound.

“
Are you okay?” I ask him
worriedly.

“
I am very, very horny,
and when you laugh…” He closes his eyes. “I can feel you clenching
around my cock. It is starting to feel almost like
pain.”

I swallow hard. “Oh. I had no
idea.”

“
Are you
ready…Kelly?”

“
Yes.”

“
Thank God for that.”
Tristan pulls out a few inches, still keeping the tip inside. “Deep
breaths for me.” His voice is ragged, like he has a sore throat,
and as he shifts his weight, he uses one of his hands to stroke me
between my legs. “I'm sure this is going to hurt, but I promise to
do my best and be as gentle as possible.”

I can't respond around the lump in my
throat. I'm still quite turned on from his mouth, and now his
fingers are taking me even closer to that perilous juncture of no
return. “Oh, God, what are you doing—”

Tristan smiles and retracts his damp
fingers, giving me a wry smile. “Goodbye, Kelly's
virginity.”

And then he pushes into me, hard
enough to send me collapsing back against the mattress, and I
scream.

The scream startles him into stopping
temporarily. But when he glances down and sees that I am okay, he
keeps going. I grit my teeth, and stare at the ceiling. I feel very
silly now for thinking that Tristan broke my hymen that first time
that he fingered me. The mild ripping sensation of being stretched
out is nothing compared to the burning agony I feel now.

And I was ready for it.

What did all those young girls think
during their bridal honeymoons way back when?

I bet they all thought they were
broken.

Tristan starts out with these slow,
heavy strokes, but then he starts moving faster. I try putting my
arms around him, but it doesn't quite work, he's moving too much
for any sort of lasting contact. I do run my hand over his ass,
squeezing the supple skin, enjoying the feel of his muscles jumping
beneath the skin.

“
Hey,” he says lowly. “Get
away from there.”

His belly slaps against mine with
every thrust, making this light, clapping sound. There's a little
rip of skin every time he pulls away, and the little tingles of
mild pain remind me of something he might do while I'm blindfolded.
I grope around for his hand and close my fingers over his. He snaps
out of his focused trance long enough to smile at me.

It's a very sweet smile,
completely free of any artifice. He lifts one of his fingers and
strokes me quickly. Then he grabs both of my wrists and slams them
down over my head. “
Tristan
.”

“
Corrine was right. You do
have a perky little rack.” He shifts his weight to one side, which
pushes him in deeper. “And wandering hands.”

“
Sorry.”

“
Don't be sorry.” His
thumb strokes over my pinned wrist. “Mm…you're so firm and
wet—
although not as wet
as before.” He laughs hoarsely. “Have you lost your taste for
vanilla ice cream, Kelly?”

“
Ice cream in general is
overrated.” I grin up at him. “I like
thick
, messy desserts you can really
sink your teeth into.”

“
That sounds…really
fucking kinky.”

“
Does it?” I say
innocently.

Tristan bites my shoulder and growls
at me when I yelp. “You're in no position to be teasing
me.”

He latches onto my throat, sucking so
hard that I know I'm going to have a mark there for days. I don't
care. That's what infinity scarves are for.

I tilt my head to the side, giving him
better access, and he releases my wrists to pinch my nipples, one
after the other, using his nails for extra force. My neck is
starting to ache dully. I'm in heaven. I'm on fire.

“
Tristan, my
God.”

“
I could sink my teeth
into you all day.”

He plunges his tongue into my mouth,
claiming it as his own, and for a moment, I can't breathe. He
snorts into my face, and I can taste every grunt, gasp, and moan.
Now I know the true flavor of desire; it's sweet and it's bitter, a
breathlessness that's like drowning, a little death of the heart.
It takes me a moment to remember how to put air back into my lungs,
and when he pulls away, my thoughts feel like lost and wayward fish
swimming in my head. I think I love him.

“
Fuck,” Tristan gasps.
“
Oh
.” His mouth
is open and he's panting, quick light bursts, and he plunges into
me so deeply that for a moment I feel as if I might faint from
pain. I can feel his heart pounding all around me, at every point
of contact between our bodies.

“
God.” He bites his lip,
and closes his eyes.

And just like that, it's over. Tristan
relaxes his arms, and falls against me, squishing my breasts. “Mm,”
he says, in a thick, sleepy drawl. “Kelly cushion.”

“
Tristan weight,” I
retort. “You're squishing me.”

“
Guess what? You're
squishing
me
,
too.”

And he flexes his cock to prove
it.

I laugh, and a dull ache pulses
through my vagina.

Tristan sees the pained expression on
my face and stops moving. “How was it?” he asks. “Your first
time?”

He looks so concerned. I pull his face
down to kiss. “More than I'd hoped for.”

“
Good.” He kisses me back,
and then pulls out of me. I watch him strip off the condom and
disappear with it into the bathroom. A sink runs. I comb my fingers
through my hair and straighten out my nightgown.

Tristan reenters the room with his
pajama pants adjusted. “There was blood on it,” he says proudly, as
he slides back into bed beside me. “It's official. Your virginity
is no more.”

“
It's creepy that you're
so excited about that.”

“
No, it'd be creepy if I
licked the condom and said something like, 'Now, with the Virginium
Capsule as my life force, I will be the Supreme Ruler of the
Galaxy.”

Ew. “I bet you did. You're pervy
enough to do that.”

He laughs evilly. “That's one nice
thing about being with an inexperienced woman.”

“
What, stealing their life
force and using it to enslave the galaxy?”

“
No, smart mouth. You
don't have anything to compare me to.” He taps my nose. “I am
literally the best sex you've ever had—and I'm going to
ruin
you for every man
who comes after me.”

I try not to let him see
how his words affect me. Because following that initial thrill, I
feel a bit panicky. I don't
want
there to be any other men. I only want
him.

But he's looking at me, waiting for my
response with a little boy's eagerness, so I say, “Following that
line of logic, that means you're also the worst.”