“I told you to be silent,” he said, after sliding the tongue ring off and setting it to the side. “What do we do about those vocal chords of yours?” Thrumming his fingers along my thighs, he mocked deep thought for a second before grabbing a ball gag from beside the bed. He dangled it in front of me, his face turning serious for a moment. “Do you think you can handle this?”
I swallowed, trailing my gaze along the leather straps and red rubber ball. Anxiety danced in my stomach like freaking Fred Astaire. But the answer was yes. I wanted it. I wanted more of this—whatever this was. I swallowed, nodding. “I can handle it.”
The concern lifted from Jude’s face, and was replaced with a sinful smirk. “I’ll fasten it loosely so you’ll still be able to speak a little. You can’t use safe words, but do you remember what to do instead?”
“I snap my fingers,” I answered, remembering our first night at the diner when we discussed the various uses of safe words and movements.
“Good girl, Poppy,” he praised, as he put the gag in my mouth and strapped it behind my head.
The ball was small enough to fit comfortably in my mouth. It pressed my tongue down, but if I really wanted to, I could push the ball to the roof of my mouth and use my tongue to speak—whether or not he could understand me would be another thing.
Kneeling between my open legs, Jude stared at me. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured, before lowering his lips to my nipple.
I moaned from beneath the gag and it came out muffled. That wicked little smirk of his climbed higher as he met my gaze. And even as I tried to arch my breast deeper into his mouth, the restraints made it damn near impossible. They were tight enough to cause only the tiniest biting ache. Sort of like an uncomfortable yoga pose I held just a few seconds too long.
As Jude moved to my other breast, he dipped a finger inside of me, circling his thumb over my slick nub. My body jolted with the touch and a flash of heat encompassed my whole body.
With a quiet rip of a plastic wrapper, I glanced down to find Jude rolling a condom onto himself. He positioned his head at my opening, easing inside me.
A whimper escaped beyond the ball gag as he rolled his hips between my legs, brushing his hip bone against my most sensitive area. He pulled out slowly, painfully slowly, until he was barely even still inside me. Then with little pulses, he teased me, pumping in and out just barely enough that I could feel it.
With what little motion I had, I fisted the headboard and grunted, doing everything humanly possible to pull my hips down harder onto his erection. Bindings and ball gags do not call for slow, meaningful thrusts. I wanted to be fucked. Pounded. Hard and senseless, until my head slammed into the headboard behind me.
Jude chuckled from above me, his thick arms trembling under the restraint of holding back. Bending at the elbows, he dropped a feathered kiss to my jaw. “Delayed gratification, remember?” he said with another small pulse of his hips. “I want to fuck you senseless, but right now—I just want to watch you squirm another moment longer.”
One thing about ball gags—it makes it really hard to catch your breath. I was panting, only, it was through my nose. Another groan gurgled at the back of my throat and I managed to say something that sounded like “Please.”
With that plea, Jude entered me completely. A sigh of pleasure trembled in my belly and my head dropped against the pillow with the deliciously full feeling.Delayed gratification, I thought with an inward sigh. Damn, he nailed it. He stayed there inside of me for a moment. Moving in circles, hitting that knot deep inside before he dragged himself out slowly again.
I tightened my thighs around his waist, squeezing him as hard as I could. Not that it did much to restrict his movement.
“Are you ready, Marlena?”
I nodded, grunting once more. And with that, Jude pushed onto his arms, thrusting hard and fast into me. He groaned, the entirety of his sculpted muscles clenching.
And still, there was nothing I could do but watch. And feel. And enjoy. I had to trust Jude to know what I wanted and what I needed without being able to move or offer him any signals.
Each plunge went deeper, harder—and it was just what I needed. The ache pulsed with each thrust and just as I thought it couldn’t get any better, a slight buzzing sound caught my attention. Jude had slipped the small vibrator onto his thumb and slowly, gently, he placed pressure onto my clit. The vibrations sent a voltage of electricity directly into my veins. It was almost too much to bear—if I thought that spanking was what the BDSM community was all about, I had it completely wrong. Being with Jude was like being on a road trip blindfolded. I didn’t know where he was taking me; I didn’t know what roads would be taken to get there—some would be bumpy, others fast, some slow and smooth… but I trusted the destination would be fabulous. I trusted him to make it fabulous.
He was getting harder inside of me with each thrust and each one made me greedy for more. His rough voice was intense above me. “Marly—I’m so close. So fucking close. You feel amazing.”
With his admission, my orgasm slammed into me, completely unexpected, rippling down my entire body. I curled my toes and fingers around the restraints, squeezing as my pussy clenched and relaxed around Jude’s cock. With a groan, his eyes fluttered closed and he threw his head back, tight muscles around his neck working with his clenched jaw. With a final grunt, he emptied himself, frozen inside of me as my body clamped down onto his erection. With a final blissful sigh, he smiled, unhooking the gag from my mouth and dropping his lips to mine.
I moved my mouth over his and my sweaty flush quickly cooled as he loosened all the bindings. Once my arms were free, I threw them around Jude’s neck, holding him close and trailing my nails down his back. Not being able to touch him—to hold him during intimacy was the absolute hardest part of being restrained. I wanted my hands all over his body.
He sighed into my touch and brushed his lips down my neck. His whispers and praises rolled through me like warm, salty water. They were healing; healing the marks on my ankles and wrists from the restraints. Healing my raw nipples, sensitive from his teeth and mouth. Healing my bruised ego and years of doubt and abuse from Jack and the whole movie industry.
He stood, going over to the bathroom sink and returning with my hairbrush. I swallowed, sitting up, anxiety tightening in my belly. “You’re not leaving tonight, are you?”
His mouth tipped into a smile. “No. Not unless you prefer to sleep alone—”
“No. Stay with me. Please.”
“Then, turn,” he demanded with a light tap of the hairbrush onto my arm. I did as I was instructed, turning my back to him as he started pulling the brush through my hair in long strokes from root to tip. When he finished our ritual—brushing my hair, cleaning my face, applying my moisturizer—he pulled the covers of the bed back and we both slipped in beneath them, his arm draped across my bare torso.
His expression shifted, uncertainty tightening the lines around his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked and even there in the dark, I could see the brilliant green of his eyes.
“I’m wonderful,” I answered. “Are you?”
“I feel the best I have in years,” he said. “But I also know… I can be a bit much, especially for someone new to this. And if you need everything to stop… if you need to go home to Omar tomorrow, I understand.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to leave. I like it here. I want to be here, with you. And it has nothing to do with your position in our industry and everything to do with your soul. Your heart.” I placed my palm flat over his chest, feeling the rhythmic pounding of his heart against his ribs.
Is this real?My body felt so full, so pleasantly achy, like after you stuff yourself on an incredibly decadent meal. That’s how Jude made me feel. Nourished and satisfied. He pulled me tighter against him and I watched as his face lifted in a serene smile.
“Good. So you’ll be ready to resume training tomorrow.” This time, it wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement.
“I’ll be there,” I said, “with bells on.”
