Page 102 of Dance for Me
She moaned in reply, not caring about the audience in front of her. The only thing that mattered was the grip of his hands on the underside of her thighs as he lifted her effortlessly, kicking the stool from under her leg once her weight settled in his arms.
The crown of his cock nudged at her, spread her open. With slow thrusts, he worked his way exactly where she needed him most. Deep inside, where the ache was strongest.
They groaned together when he finally seated himself fully.
God, yes. This is my idea of perfection.
Weight balanced between her cuffs and Braun, she felt alive. The connection they’d forged before her parents tried to kill her—the bond she feared had waned over the past six months—rose to the surface, stronger and more vibrant than ever.
Braun controlled her movements, raising and lowering her at his own pace. No matter how she squirmed or what words tripped from her lips, he was a machine. Powerful, unstoppable, and damned determined to drive her insane.
Her orgasm kindled, smoldering away. From the tips of her fingers down to her little toes, pleasure built, gathering in her center. She whined, fisting her hands, wishing she could touch him, rake her nails over his back, bite him...anything to make him lose control and fuck her.
“When you wiggle like that,” he growled in her ear, “it drives me mad, little one. You were made for me, and me alone. I love knowing you’re all mine. Every inch of this body designed for me, to take my cock like the good girl you are.”
Her toes curled. Fuck, she really did get a kick out of being his good girl.
Flesh clapped against tender flesh, her flogger-kissed cheeks singing with delight as friction reanimated the sting. She wriggled some more, just to savor the burn. Joined with him, full of him, she finally regained some of the confidence that had slipped away during her rehabilitation.
“I think someone wants to come,” Braun mocked, his teeth finding flesh between silky strands of rope. He bit lightly, little more than a threat, but the expanding mass of ecstasy in her belly throbbed.
“God, yes. Please, Master, please let me come.”
His fingers dug into the soft undersides of her thighs, gripping her tighter as sweat dewed her skin. She was impressed he managed to hold her bum leg up—the cast weighed it down and she knew how heavy the damn thing was; after all, she carried it around all day, every day. But Braun was a man on a mission, not about to let a cumbersome cast get in his way.
Bodie was secretly glad he’d changed his mind about the no sex.
He hammered into her from behind, his control slipping. That big, powerful body stepped up a notch, thrilling her with the intensity pouring out of him. Her pussy clamped down on him in answer, bringing a raw cry to her lips.
“That’s it, come for me. Come for me, Bodie.” Braun’s hips snapped forward, burying himself deep.
She felt him pulse, the thick shaft throbbing in time with his heartbeat, and shattered around him. The orgasm was akin to a supernova, blinding and brilliant, sucking the air from her lungs on a scream.
For several long moments, she was lost, cast adrift on a turbulent sea of bliss. When she surfaced, breathing hard and trembling with aftershocks, she found her feet on the floor with Braun’s arms around her waist as he just held her.
Breath rasping, he kept muttering, “Christ Jesus.”
They rocked in place until Braun’s breathing eased. She moaned in protest when he slipped out of her, hating the emptiness he left behind. She didn’t want to lose what they’d just rediscovered—she wanted, so very badly, to stay linked with him forever. Full and sated and happy.
But he reached up to her hands, squeezed them once, then yanked on the quick release knot. Her arms lowered slowly, and she hissed as blood started to rush back through. She sat gingerly on the stool when directed, watching her Dom skillfully undo all his pretty ropework with quick fingers.
“I think I’m ruining your stool,” she informed him, shifting her hips restlessly. “I’m sat on a wet spot.”
Midnight-blue eyes never left his task, his hands working quickly to release the bonds around her forearms. “You’re making the wet spot, little one, but I don’t give a fuck. I’ll have the damn thing bronzed just as soon as I’ve got you untied.”
Bodie admired the indents in her skin, some blushing pink, others a darker shade. “And what are you going to do with a bronzed bar stool?”
“Who knows? Keep it in the living room and make it a focal point.”
She snorted, flexing her fingers as they began to tingle. Braun covered them with his, and she saw the concern in his eyes fade as he felt their warmth. “Please don’t. We’d never be able to look at it again without thinking of tonight, and we wouldn’t survive ourselves if we lived in perpetual horniness.”
“We’d die happy.” Braun made short work of her arms, then growled when she shivered. He straightened from his crouch, moving over to one of the vertical poles and yanking something free. He returned to her with a knife in hand. “Safety blade only, Bodie. I want to get you tucked up and resting.”
Trusting him, she sat trembling as he cut away the harness on her chest. When he draped a blanket over her shoulders and wrangled the sweats and her panties back into place, she huddled into the warmth and smiled. Cuddling with Braun was her most favorite part of sex...well, aside from the whole being pleasured to within an inch of her life part.
Her eyelids drooped.
Dozing, she sensed him moving around, and then she was finally hoisted into his arms. She curled into him, rubbing her face into his throat as the motion of him walking lulled her to sleep.