Hold Me (Love The Way #2) - W. Winters Page 0,30
I was too intoxicated or well past any limit where I would object. Every touch heightened the high. It was different then.
I’ve been called a lot of things, like “little slut” and “my whore.” I remember a time when I loved degradation, it was a part of the scene. It’s a kink that I never imagined would leave me. If a man used it outside of the bedroom, it was obviously different. But within the confines of four walls, it’s different because I know I’m going to get mine and when it’s all said and done, they’d kiss me and tell me what a good girl I was. That was so long ago, though. A lifetime ago. “At one point I enjoyed it.”
“But now?”
“I really just want to please you.”
A huff of humor leaves Zander and he says, “Well that makes two of us.” He doesn’t waste any time pulling out the second item.
“Matching tape.”
“Tape?” The hitch in my voice gives away my hesitancy as Zander holds out a roll of shiny tape in the same deep burgundy shade as the blindfold.
“It only sticks to itself,” he explains, pulling the end free and holding it out for me to feel.
“It’s like PVC tape?”
He nods in response to my question.
“Any objections?” he asks and his tone is neutral. “I know you want to please me, but you should know it would piss me off if you didn’t object if you wanted to.”
Shock at his darkened tone drops my bottom lip slightly. My eyes widen and he stares down at me with a seriousness. Kneeling in front of me, he drops the roll into my hand, lowers his lips to my ear and whispers, his warm breath trailing down the curve of my neck, “I want to feel you come on my dick as many times as you possibly can before you safe word.” My breathing quickens as he leans back, brushing the hair from my face with a casualness that downplays the perversion he just spoke. “It’ll make it harder for me if you lie right now.”
“I was nervous because it’s tape, but it won’t stick to me, like duct tape would.”
“Not at all.”
Gripping the tape tighter, I ask him, “How do you plan to use it?”
“I’ll bind your legs, so they’re bent and you’re easier to position however I want, and your hands and arms … I haven’t decided yet.” His words drift off and his eyes roam down my body before he looks back up at me. “Or maybe some other binding. Do you have a preference?”
“No.”
“Then however the hell I want. I may tie you to the bed frame. Strap you down so you can’t move an inch while I fuck you …” Leaving me with the vision of my wrists being cuffed to the bedposts with this tape, Z turns his back to me, fishing for something in the duffle before pulling out a pair of small silver safety scissors.
Nodding, I hand him back the heavy roll, his fingers brushing against mine and eliciting a rush of adrenaline and heat. “Then no objections.”
A shiver runs down my back with my hair tickling along my shoulders. Every little touch feels heightened knowing I’ll be bound and blindfolded.
The apprehension is an aphrodisiac.
“What should I call you?”
Zander’s brow arches. “Like when we’re in here … when we’re …” A long exhale leaves me, my chest rising and falling with the newly found heat.
“You call me Z,” he answers easily. Although I’m well aware he’s toying with me.
“That’s just a nickname.”
“Like ‘my little jailbird,’” he comments affectionately. He wears a simple smile yet somehow, there’s pride hidden within it.
“I really—” I start to say love. I was going to say love it when he calls me that. Little bird was cute. Jailbird, though … I love it when he calls me that. Swallowing down my admission, I clarify, “I mean, should I call you Sir when we’re in a scene … or something else?”
James like it when I called him Sir. And I loved it. I loved being in a room with him, knowing he could do whatever he wanted and that by the end of the night we’d both be sated and even more in love with each other than we were the day before.
“Two things. The first is that we will always be in scene. There isn’t a moment where I will hesitate to reward or punish you. Is that understood?”
“Yes.” The word rushes out of me with more