I hook my fingers into the hem of my tank top and peel it upward—slow, inch by inch—revealing my lacy pink bra. His gaze tracks the rise of the fabric, jaw tight, breathing harder with every second until I toss it aside.
“Fuck,” he growls, tugging at the lace binding his wrists. “You’re killing me.”
I smile sweetly, reaching behind to unclasp my bra. The straps slip off my shoulders, and I drop it onto the bed between us, leaving me bare and straddling his hips.
His abs flex, his cock jerks against my stomach, and the look in his eyes makes my skin feel hot all over.
“Keep going,” he says, voice low and rough, “before I break these and take over.”
I smirk, high on power and my own daring, then lift just enough to hook my thumbs into the top of my shorts. I drag them slowly down over my hips, peeling them away before tossing them to the floor—leaving me in nothing but my panties and the heat of his stare crawling over my skin.
I move back in, kissing his neck, my mouth trailing along his collarbone, tasting the salt of his skin and the faint edge of cologne clinging to him. I keep going, following the lines of his body until my breath is warm against his V-line.
“Melody…” His voice is a warning again—deeper this time, threaded with heat and threat.
I look up at him from under my lashes, stroking him once, slow, feeling him swell and twitch in my hand.
“Patience might not be your thing,” I tease, and I flick my tongue over his tip again, collecting another drop of his precum.
“Goddamn it.” His hips buck instinctively, cock driving up into the empty air in search of my mouth. “Untie me.”
I hum against his thigh, shaking my head.
“Say please.”
“Now!” he barks.
He could break the knot like paper if he wanted to. But he doesn’t. And that sends another jolt of pleasure between my legs. I want to push him to that breaking point. I want to see him snap.
“I think I’ll keep you like this,” I whisper, dragging my nails across his lower stomach, circling his belly button, watching him tense beneath me. “Tied up and angry.”
“You keep this up and I swear…” he growls.
“You’ll what?” I purr. “You’ll beg?” I add, with another swirl of my tongue and a kiss to the tip. I add a long, firm stroke of my palm from base to head while I hold his eyes.
He breathes like a man trying not to explode. He’s trying so hard not to snap the restraint.
And God, I love that.
I part my lips and suck the head of his cock, almost filling my entire mouth.
“Fucking god,” he growls, voice strained, eyes shut.
I lick again, a little more confident. But the truth is that I have no idea what I’m doing. My grip is clumsy, my strokes uneven. One second I’m too gentle, the next too rough. I try to take him deeper, and my teeth graze him just barely, not on purpose.
“Shit,” he hisses.
“Sorry,” I whisper quickly, eyes wide, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
But his head falls back and he laughs, ragged and hoarse.
“Fuck, baby,” he chuckles, eyes flicking back down to me, voice full of twisted affection. “You’re so fucking cute when you try to be bad.”
“Don’t laugh at me or I won’t let you come.” I scowl, wrapping my hand around his cock again and stroking him with a little more pressure—still unsure, still shaky, but loving the way his abs tighten and his chest starts to heave.
He grits his teeth, face turning toward the headboard.
“You have two seconds to untie me and I’ll be gentle,” he warns, eyes flicking back down to me.
