Page 130 of Ricochet
Anywhere.
Wherever Callum wants to go.
We’ve talked about moving back to Pennsylvania to be closer to my mom and sister, but I’ve told him there’s no pressure in case returning there would open those wounds. I really am okay with living wherever he wants to settle down. I’ll follow him anywhere.
I don’t know how much longer I sleep before I’m awakened by something cinching tight around my left wrist.
The next sensation I’m aware of is that familiar snug warmth moving around my dick. My eyes fly open on a low moan, and the first thing I see is Callum above me, his head thrown back as he rides my cock.
It takes a long while for anything else to come into focus. I’m stuck. Mesmerized. Completely enraptured by the way he moves on top of me, taking his pleasure. The way his head sways on his shoulders, his lips parted. The way his flushed cock smears precum over my skin every time it hits my stomach.
The only thing that pulls my attention away from him is realizing that I’m on my back with my wrists tied to the headboard.
We don’t use the black, silky ropes too often, but we decided to keep them out and accessible after Callum realized that the one time I had him tied up wasn’t a fluke. He enjoys it.
He’s tied me up once before, more for silly fun than anything else. But I can’t say I’ve ever woken up like this.
I also can’t say I hate it.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, my voice rough with sleep.
He continues fucking himself on my cock as he peers down at me through hooded eyes. He grins. “Well, you weren’t doing it.”
I narrow my eyes and tug at the binds. “Just wait, baby. As soon as I’m out of these ropes, I’ll make you pay for this.”
He moans as his hands come down on my chest. “I can’t wait.”
As I struggle against the ropes, attempting to slip my hands out, he sinks his nails into my pecs. I snap my hips up, and he whimpers, arching his back.
It’s dark inside the room, but the way he moves his body draws my attention to the mostly faded bruises along the side of his torso. During one of his games last weekend, an opposing player caught him in the corner and crunched him against the boards so hard he went down. I’ve learned how to just barely resist the urge to break through the glass and spill the other players’ blood on the ice when things like that happen.
However, their numbers get burned into my brain.
The next day, that player was pulled over by the cops for driving a stolen vehicle and spent the day in jail until they were able to confirm the car did indeed belong to him.
Technical glitches happen.
I might not be able to always avenge Callum with my preferred method of physical violence, but I have other tools in my arsenal. Lacey indulges me, if a bit begrudgingly, as long as it doesn’t cause any permanent damage.
Unfortunately.
“You look so fucking beautiful riding my cock,” I tell him as I pause my struggling to appreciate the sight of him above me a little longer.
He rolls his hips, and I groan. “So why don’t you just lie there and enjoy it?”
“You know I can’t do that, baby.”
I know it’s not what he really wants.
I love it when he takes control. When he fucks me instead of the other way around, especially after I kill. However, we both love it more when it’s my cock in his ass. My hand around his throat. My teeth in his flesh.
Planting my feet flat on the bed, I thrust up, pounding into him until his head is swaying back on his shoulders again, his eyes closed and his lips parted in a silent cry, his nails digging deeper into my skin.
While he’s distracted, I return to my fight against the ropes.
The one around my right wrist is looser than the one around my left. I can’t help but wonder if he did that on purpose. I focus on that one, twisting and jerking until it loosens even more. As soon as my hand is free, I reach over to untie the other.
Once both hands are free, I grasp him by the waist. His eyes open and find mine as I continue to piston my hips, fucking up into him. I tighten my grip hard enough I might just leave bruises.