Page 67 of Trusting the Fall
“You can start by going to the bedroom,” I say.
“W-What?”
I place my hand on his chest, humming at the warmth and hardness underneath, then I clasp the fabric and pull his face down to my level. “I said bedroom. Now.”
“Okay,” he breathes, then rushes down the hall and through my open door.
I prowl down the hall and make it to the doorway. Candles are lit up along my desk and on the bedside tables. A wicked and intimate glow fills the room.
Leif sits on the end of the bed, tapping his hands nervously against his thighs.
“Who said you could sit down?” His hands halt their movement as he looks at me in panic. “Strip.”
He quickly stands, throwing his hat into the corner.
I’ve never seen a man undress so quickly in my life, and I’ve been with my fair share of willing participants.
He remains standing in all his naked glory, his fat cock so hard and ready for me.
“Lie back on the bed,” I command as I walk over to my dresser.
Pulling the top drawer open, I find the pair of fluffy pink handcuffs I unboxed earlier. I got them in a goodie bag from a bachelorette party I went to years ago and have never used them.
I turn around to see Leif waiting expectantly on the bed, licking at his lips, his eyes flaring when he takes in the handcuffs.
“Hands on the frame,” I say as I kneel on the bed beside him.
His hands move without thought, flying overhead and clutching on the bars. I lock one side around his wrist, leaning my breasts right over his face when I go to secure the other side. He just can’t help himself and grazes his teeth over one barbell on my nipple, still covered by the silk of my robe.
I shudder but hold firm, dragging my hands over his chest as I pull back off the bed to stand again.
Keeping my eyes on his, my hands find the tie at my waist. I can see in the way his body squirms that he’s fighting between looking at my eyes and my body, but when I drop the robe, his eyes cast down, flaring wide before he bites his lip.
“Fuck, Bombshell,” he whispers.
“No talking with your mouth full,” I say, kneeling on the bed and throwing a leg over his torso to straddle his stomach.
His warm, clenching abs rub delightfully against my bare pussy, thanks to the crotchless knickers.
“My mouth’s not full.”
“It’s about to be,” I say before placing a hard kiss against his lips.
I crawl up his body until my pussy is level with his face and lower down. “Now eat.”
His mouth dives right in, finding my clit and sucking.
His tongue flickers over the ring as I lean back with my hands braced against his thighs. He hums in pleasure as he feasts on my pussy, licking up and down, alternating between letting his tongue dive deep into my cunt and locking onto my clit.
I swivel my hips, riding his face, relishing the feel of his facial hair tickling my thighs while his tongue makes my stomach quiver from his efforts.
I throw my head back and moan loudly, only letting myself focus on the sensation of his mouth and tongue. I take what I need to get myself to come. That’s the name of the game, nothing else.
“So sweet, Bombshell. Will you come on my face? Let me wear it, baby.”
I shiver at his words and feel myself getting closer to completion.
His thighs shake and squirm under my hands as he continues to devour me. He loves it, loves to deliver my pleasure, damn near gets off on it.
