Page 64 of Forbidden Eyes
“Really?” she says, looking back at me and twisting her bound wrists.
“Yes. Just like that. All day. Let’s see how slutty that mouth can get when I get inside everything I'm not supposed to have." I drop my sunglasses into place, take off my top, and get comfortable to check out all that skin on display for me to taint up. "You need sunscreen on that virginal little ass?”
Her eyes widen with that comment. Yeah. That’s right.
My time to play.
The thought makes me chuckle and smile at her all strapped up, my hand opening the cooler on deck. Two champagne bottles sit there at the side of some sodas, ice crushed all around. “You ever been drunk, Fia?”
“No.”
Of course, she hasn't. Too caged up for drink.
I grab it out of the cooler, popping the cork so we can do just that for the afternoon. Fuck rules and what I shouldn’t be doing. We’ll get drunk. Get naked. Be free out here and not give a damn for what’s coming. Swim, screw around. Maybe go for dinner up the coast later. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere no one knows us and the world around us can just keep turning while we ignore it and do what we want rather than what we should. For today, that’s all I care about. While no one can find us, there’s nothing else to think about.
Eighteen
The sound of the champagne cork popping makes me jump. Every part of my body feels expectant, excited about being with Carter, although his comments about my ass have put me on edge. I trust and force my hands to relax in the bonds even though my instinct is to pull and twist out of them.
He pours a glass and brings it over to me. His hair is a little out of place thanks to the breeze, but to me, he looks breathtakingly handsome. Especially knowing what he’s been doing with me.
“Open up." He lifts the glass to my lips and tilts it. The ice-cold champagne chills my mouth and sends bubbles trickling down my throat. He pulls the glass back and takes a big gulp for himself before he sits back on the bench seat. “I like the look of you tied up, Fia. At my mercy. At my command.”
The deep tone of his voice covers my skin in goose bumps, and I take a breath.
“More.” He stands and tilts the rest of the glass of champagne down my throat. “Now step.” He pulls the shorts that are now around my ankles free before his fingers set to untie my bikini.”
“Naked?” I ask, as a sliver of vulnerability cuts through my buoyancy. Suddenly, I’m grateful for the hit of Dutch courage he’s plied me with.
“Just the way I like you.”
His eyes sweep over my skin and turn my nerves to heavy desire.
He steps back and pours more liquid into his glass. Again, he brings it to my lips and lets me drink. This time, he’s eager, and the alcohol runs over the edge of the glass and cascades down my chin and drips onto my chest.
“Such a shame to waste that,” he growls before running his tongue over the trail, lapping up the drink. The heady mix of warm and cold, together with his actions set my body on fire. My mind is torn between how my body feels, all the amazing sensations of desire and lust, want and need, versus what my head is telling me—to be careful, that I’m vulnerable, what will he do next?
He rises up, and his tongue traces my lips, teasing me with forbidden promises. I open my mouth, and he takes advantage, licking and consuming me with an intoxicating hunger. My arms pull, desperate to hold him closer to me, to stop him from ever escaping, but the rope bites into my skin.
He pulls away, but his green eyes speak of mischief and sin—things I’m fast growing to love about him.
“More champagne for you, I think,” he rumbles, repeating his actions and pouring directly into my mouth. His free hand wraps around my hair, tilting my head back and making it easier for him. I swallow eagerly, but also let the liquid run down my body, now knowing the game he’s playing. Sure enough, he traces every drop with his tongue, dancing over my throat and down to my breasts.
With each mouthful, I grow more confident, and more turned on. His desire for me feeds my own, and I slip into a place where nothing else exists apart from us.
I greedily drink what I’m given, happy to let it spill over my body, needing him to touch me, to provide some relief to the build-up of longing in the pit of my stomach. My legs grow restless, and my feet inch apart.
“Do you want me to lick that sweet pussy of yours, Fia?”
“Yes,” I moan, as my head drops back on my shoulders.
“You want me to lap up the champagne that you’ve spilt on purpose and tongue you? Taste how wet you are?”
His words drive me crazy and wild.
Carter grabs the bottle of champagne and begins to pour it into my mouth. “Tell me when,” he says with a smirk. I swallow, but the liquid runs freely down my body, covering my chest and stomach, and running to the apex of my thighs. Still, I don’t tell him to stop. I keep my head back and drink as much as I can.
“Greedy girl.”