Release Me

yet.”
    “I think you’re wrong about that,” I grump and draw another laugh.
    It’s stifled, though, by his mouth on my inner thigh. I squeeze my eyes closed tight behind the sash as he brushes his lips over my scars, kissing his way down my leg, worshipping me with his mouth. I feel his tongue dart out and tease the back of my knee, and I learn in that moment just how sensitive that part of a body can be.
    I’m still twitching from the electrical sensations that buzz over my body when he reaches my feet.
    “You have lovely toes, Ms. Fairchild,” he says. “I don’t have a foot fetish, but if I did …” He trails off, and his mouth closes over my big toe. He sucks on it, gently at first, and then harder until I’m squirming again, feeling the corresponding tug all the way in my cunt. I’m throbbing, but I know better than to beg. Damien’s not done with me yet.
    He moves his attention to my other foot and licks each of my toes gently. Then he kisses his way back up my leg. By the time he reaches the soft skin between my thigh and my vulva, I am completely lost in a haze of pleasure.
    At least, I think I am. When he closes his mouth over me and grazes my clit lightly with his teeth, I am wildly, hotly, intensely proven wrong. There
are
still heights, and Damien is taking me there.
    He has an expert tongue, and it swirls over my clit, soft and gentle, but with a building intensity. My eyes are squeezed shut behind the blindfold, my breath coming in short gasps. I twist against the bindings that hold me. I am lost, I am nothing but pleasure. A vibrant white scream of pleasure concentrated between my thighs.
    And then—oh, yes, oh, my—the world seems to explode, and I’m bucking against him, and still he’s sucking and pulling and tonguing me and I’m climbing higher and higher until finally, finally, the world settles back around me and my chest is rising and falling with the power of the explosion.
    “Now,” Damien whispers, and I realize he’s above me. His mouth closes over mine, slick with the scent of me. The thick head of his penis is pressed against me, and he thrusts inside. “Oh, baby,” he says. His hand slips down between our bodies, and I feel his thumb on my sensitive clit. My body trembles again, and I gasp as my muscles clench, drawing him in even more. “There you go, that’s right. Are you sore?”
    I manage to croak out a no.
    “Good,” he says, and I feel him withdraw just a little, then slam back into me. He said he was going to fuck me hard, and he is, and I’m lifting my hips to meet him, because I want him deeper now, deeper and harder. I want all of him, and, dammit, I want to see him.
    “Damien,” I say. “Damien, the blindfold.”
    I’m afraid he’s going to ignore me, but then his fingers brush my temple and he pulls it off. He’s above me, his face hard but his eyes showing nothing but pleasure. His mouth curves into a gentle smile, and then he kisses the corner of my mouth. The frenzied fuck slows to a sweet, sensual rhythm that is all the more devastating because he’s drawing it out, making it last. It can last forever as far as I’m concerned.
    And then I see the tension building in his body, his musclestightening, his body stiffening against mine. He closes his eyes and I watch as he arches back, and then I feel the sweet pressure as he explodes inside me.
    “Christ, Nikki,” he says as he collapses against me.
    I want to press my body against him, but I’m still trapped. “Damien,” I whisper. “Untie me.”
    He rolls over and smiles at me, warm and languid. At some point he put on a condom, and he takes it off and drops it in a small trash bin by the bed. Then he moves quickly to undo the drapes. I didn’t get to enjoy watching him strip, but I’m very happy with the view now. He may not have played tennis professionally for years, but the man still has an athlete’s body, long and lean and so damn sexy.
    “Come here,” he says roughly once I’m untied. He pulls me close to spoon against him, my back against his chest, my ass against his magnificent cock. His fingers stroke the outside of my thigh, and his lips graze my shoulder. “I liked taking you tied up,” he says. “We may have to try more of that.”
    “More?”
    “Have you ever heard of Kinbaku?”
    “No.”
    His hand slides over my thigh to rest on my sex. His fingers stroke my hair lightly. “It’s ropes,” he says. “But they’re for restraint as much as for