• Jill Marie Denton

His Three Friends | May 2, 2020

Part 4.2


I called out weakly to Rex, tugging against the resistance bands to test their stretch. They gave about an inch but not nearly enough to lift my arms from my sides or my hips from the board. I suddenly found myself in the lion’s den. He had me in his sights and he was eyeing me like he planned to eat me alive.


He sunk to his knees at the end of my perch, using his lips and tongue to abuse the flesh at the tops of my stockings. I couldn’t help watching as he slid the fabric down, slowly over calf and ankle before tossing them over his shoulders. With a predatory growl, he began planting smooth kisses and swirling licks up both legs, edging up my body like a slithering snake. His tongue flicked over the tiny patch of fabric still covering me, and when he glanced up with demand in his eyes, I could only whimper.


With a flick of his wrist, he snapped the thong’s string and tossed the tiny barrier aside. And when his tongue lapped at the tender flesh his fingers had just devastated, my body arched under the restraints. He had no intention of letting me have any control.


I surrendered myself to the sounds of his breaths, the heat of his body pressed against mine, the thrilling sensation of the snug bands holding me down. The room was quiet aside from my moans and his occasional grunts. The scents of sweat, stretched rubber and his peppery cologne tempted my senses, but there was no distracting me from the onslaught as he flicked, played and nudged blissful moans from my lips.


The ache grew fierce as chills traipsed down my spine. Somehow, he’d nudged me toward another peak, one I hadn’t seen coming. When I clenched, my moans turning to groans in anticipation, he swept that torturous finger inside me again, coaxing it in and out over and over as his tongue swirled just above it.


My legs and arms flexed, fighting for freedom enough to squirm as I edged closer to the tornado. I felt the guttural rush down deep, that slow-moving flood of adrenaline that swept me up and carried me the rest of the way to climax. I strained against the bands, whimpering as his tongue’s swirl narrowed on the target and flicked fiercely.


The second jolt was more powerful than the first. A bolt of lightning shot from his tongue into me, up my back and to my chest as I screamed out for mercy. The sound and the fury in it shook the walls. But his palms cupped my hips, keeping his face locked in place as I thrashed. He didn’t pause, he didn’t look up. Time slowed to a crawl.


When my quaking and wailing finally stopped, he lifted his chin and rested it near my navel. He was winded, his hair matted and his brow gleaming. And there was intense pleasure in the glow of his sapphire eyes.


He crawled up my body, taking my cheeks with his hands and bringing his mouth to mine. I could taste what he’d coaxed from me as his tongue swept over my lips. He kissed me until my head spun then gently pressed my head back to the cushion below.


Reaching for his pants and his wallet, he removed a condom from the inner flap. As he readied himself, I tried to escape the restraints again, only to find them just as resilient as before.


“Uh uh,” he chided, straddling the board and my lap. “I want you right here.”


I met his gaze with a challenging expression, craning my neck up to take a quick nip at his neck. He snickered and lowered his body onto mine, his mouth finding the hollow of my neck again. In a quick show of dominance, he forced us center to center and slid his full length between my pinned legs. The surge was instant, the sensation exhilarating as his tensed quads and calves lifted and dropped his frame with each thrust.


My eyes closed slowly, gently, as he slid, ground and panted above me. The onslaught on my tortured flesh brought tears to my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my legs around him, to squeeze him and plunge him into me even deeper, but the bands held fast. I could only succumb to him as his pace picked up.


As the minutes passed, the tender spot caught fire again, boiling with need. I struggled once more with the bands, eager to put my hands on his sweat-slicked skin, itching to feel his muscles flex. Mercifully, he paused to reach around and unclip the bands. They fell away, dropping below the bench with dull thuds.


My hands jumped to his neck, pulling his lips to mine fiercely. He responded breathily, devouring me as my legs wrapped around his middle. One of his palms moved to the back of my thigh as he took my nipple between his teeth. The thrusting began again, fiercer and harder this time, slamming my back into the bench.


His determined grunts, the tense muscles of his arms and chest, the way his hips pivoted with each stroke, it all drove me crazy. I reached a single fingertip down and stroked the same tender spot between my legs as he feasted on my lips again.


His relentless stamina and my twitching finger released another explosion within me, this one so intense that I seized in his arms. His forehead dropped to mine as our breaths mingled, his thrusting never slowing down as I recoiled and slackened lifelessly in his grasp.


My chest squeezed, my back ached and yet he raced toward a goal couldn’t see. He was so intense, so undeniably fixated on rapture that I could only watch as he winced and quaked. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, holding on as he navigated to his own climax. And when his body shook and his head tipped back on a long groan, when I felt him flex deep within me, I knew he’d crossed the marathon’s finish line.


He tugged me to the floor, positioning himself beneath me as a cushion. With damp fingers, he stroked my hair until my trembling stopped.


It took a while to find my underwear, and when I did, I was saddened yet thrilled to see the thirty-dollar pair in shreds. He’d been just as excited as she’d hoped.


“I’ll replace them,” he offered, returning to me with the bottle of water from the stocked bar we hadn’t bothered with. His pants were pulled back on though unfastened, and his Oxford was unbuttoned and clinging to his sweaty chest. “I got a little carried away. Soma?”


“Only you would know ladies’ underwear brands,” I snickered, grabbing the water and sating myself with it. “Not necessary but I appreciate the offer.”


I slipped the corset back on, lacing it loosely before draping the trench over my shoulders again. He perched on the corner of his desk, watching me twist my toes into my heels with his water loosely grasped in his fingers. “You came here dressed in just that? Risky. What if you’d gotten into a fender bender? Or what if I’d said no?”


“Neither ended up happening, so no worries,” I replied easily, turning to him. “I’m heading out. See you tomorrow?”


“Absolutely,” he glanced down, no doubt remembering what was planned for the next afternoon. “I’m sure people will bolt from the graveyard, but I’ll stick around a bit afterward, make sure you’re good. There’s no rush for me to get back here.”


“That’s really not necessary, but I appreciate that offer, too. I’ll be leaving soon after. I need some time away.”


“Gotcha. Be safe driving. I don’t want to worry about you tonight.”


I just smiled and nodded, turning to begin the trek to the elevators. I was half-way down the hall, edging toward reception, when Rex’s voice rang out behind me. “Hey, just curious. The corset? Clearly that was planned for me.”


I turned back with a grin. “The last time you groped me was at the Renaissance Faire, remember? Corsets are your weakness, Rex. Didn’t figure you could resist them, and boy was I right about that.”


I walked off without another word, the sound of his self-deprecating chortle echoing behind me as I escaped.


{Part 5 Coming May 9, 2020} <3 JMD

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