“Before we head back to the venue,” he said, “we should stop by the hotel to make sure our bags have been delivered to our suite.”
“Is it possible they haven’t?” She glanced up at him, worried. There were valuable clothes in her suitcase. She hadn’t had time to pack her less formal attire before following Kellen to Beaumont, so she was stuck with the formal belongings in the suitcase she’d left in the car when she’d arrived at the beach house in Galveston. At the time, she didn’t think she’d need her gowns and dressy clothes, so hadn’t bothered lugging the extra baggage upstairs, but now she was just glad she had clean underwear and a couple of changes of clothes with her, no matter how rock-concert inappropriate they happened to be.
“I’m sure it’s all there,” he said. “It’s just that the dessert I crave requires a location more private than a street corner.”
“Oh.” Her face went hot. “Yes, we should definitely stop by the hotel. What hotel are we staying at?”
“I think it’s the Courtyard.”
“That’s only a few blocks in that direction.” She pointed toward the northwest. “After lunch, we can walk there.”
They were third in line now after having waited for twenty minutes.
“I’d really like to start with dessert,” he murmured, his dark eyes glassy with desire. For her.
“It’ll be better if you wait. The more you want it, the better it tastes when you finally earn your sweet reward.”
She got lost in his eyes and wasn’t sure if she was suddenly so hot because the muggy New Orleans air had become even more oppressive or because he was looking at her like she was the dessert of a lifetime.
“Can I help you?” the woman at the counter called out to them. A large gap had cleared out between them and the food truck.
“Change of plans,” Dawn said. She grabbed Kellen’s hand and hurried up the street in the direction of their hotel, tugging a laughing Kellen behind her.
By the time they entered their room, lunch and suitcases were completely forgotten. He practically tossed her onto the bed. Her skirt went up, panties went down. He spread her legs wide and stared down at the hot, achy flesh between her legs. She gasped when he bent over her, his breath tickling her pussy. He hesitated just before his mouth claimed the dessert he’d wanted, and yet before she could relax enough to enjoy his warm mouth, he stood.
“I have a better idea,” he said.
Better than his mouth on her? Impossible. Unless he was planning to put his cock inside her. He hadn’t done that since before they’d parted in Galveston. She lifted her head and watched him hurry to his suitcase.
“My suitcase is there, isn’t it?” she asked, feeling more than a little perturbed that he’d stop to check his bag now.
When he pulled out a length of soft pink rope, she understood his unexpected interest in his luggage. He wanted to tie her. She wasn’t sure she had the patience for that right now. As much as she loved the slow and careful attention he showed her when he turned her body into a work of art with nothing but lengths of rope, sometimes a woman just needed a tongue on her clit followed by a quick and hard fuck.
“Kellen, it’s not necessary. I’m already beyond turned on.”
“I need it.”
At least he was quick about it. Standing over her at the edge of the bed, he tied each wrist to a thigh, still fumbling with the final knot when his mouth latched on to her clit. He sucked and nibbled, licked and kissed, until her back arched and her feet curled and her center pulsed with release. He straightened and entered her, filling her with deep, hard strokes until her orgasm subsided, and then he pulled out. He bent over her to eat her pussy again, quickly bringing her to a second peak. Apparently her shuddering cry of release was his cue to fuck her again. She wanted to watch his face as they came together, but it felt so good to have her clenching pussy filled while she came that she couldn’t open her eyes. And when the ripples of pleasure finally stilled enough for her to pry her eyes open, he was back to sucking and licking and biting and oh, God, what was he doing now?
She lost track of how many times he brought her to orgasm with his mouth, how often he rewarded her release with fast, hard strokes with his hard-as-stone cock.
“I thought I could do one more,” he said brokenly.
He pulled out before she’d settled from her most recent orgasm. A slick pounding sound that unfortunately did not involve her body gave her the strength to open her eyes. Transfixed, her heart hammering in her chest, she watched him stroke his cock with one hand. She yanked at her bonds, wanting that beautiful cock between her palms, and then gasped aloud when he came on her mound. Eyes squeezed shut, he swayed on his feet, rubbing his tip into the cum he’d left on her skin.
“That was perfect,” he said.
Dawn agreed and watched as he pulled his pants up, tucking his spent cock into his jeans and fastening them. She had to admit that her body was completely satisfied, but her heart and soul cried out for him as he turned and disappeared into the bathroom.
She guessed he wasn’t the type to cuddle.
Dawn realized how uncomfortable her body was positioned after she’d been lying there a couple of minutes. He usually took such care when he tied her, and she wondered why he’d bother tying her at all if he wasn’t going to do it right. Water ran in the bathroom sink, and a moment later he emerged, looking so devastatingly gorgeous and apologetic that she couldn’t stay perturbed at him. He carried a towel and several wash cloths. As he slowly approached the bed, his gaze caressed every inch of her exposed body. Though his knotting technique didn’t live up to his usual care and imagination, it did effectively hold her legs wide open. She let him look at her—not that she had much of a choice—but even if she hadn’t been bound, she wouldn’t have tried to block his view. That sensual stare of his made her feel beautiful and desired, treasured even.
He didn’t speak as he leaned over her and very slowly, very gently, began to clean his cum from her skin. His free hand caressed her thigh, her hip, and the curve of her waist as he tenderly washed her highly satisfied pussy. As she lay watching him, feeling him, she wondered why her pussy was the only part of her that felt satisfied. She wanted more of him. Not his cock. Not even that talented mouth of his. She wanted to feel him against her.
“Kelly,” she whispered, her voice scratchy from all the moaning she’d done.
He lifted his chin and met her eyes.
“Will you ever be able to make love to me without tying me?”
“I hope so,” he said, his hand moving to the ropes that bound her forearms to her calves. “I’m not quite there yet.”
She tried to be understanding—even nodded—but wasn’t sure why this particular vice of his and his inability to get past it hurt her heart.