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When he was done, he hooked the loop to a carabiner clip he'd attached to the eye-hook just under the bottom edge of the wooden headboard. The feature had been useful several times in the past when he used handcuffs and rope to restrict my movements. I missed his hand doing the job, but my pulse raced at the more secure method.
It wouldn't get distracted in the throes of passion and accidentally release me. Chris kissed my neck before he sat up.
"Sometimes, I fear a bad reaction, but you surprise me with the opposite. I love that about you. " My cheeks weren't the only thing on fire now. I arched my hips to let him know. Chris's fingers were in my hair again, and I tilted my chin up.
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It was interesting to watch his face, although he usually started with my back to him so I only got to see him half of the time.
Now with him doing it all from the front, I saw how his eyes seemed to lose focus on me from the onset. His mouth parted slightly, and a light sheen of sweat formed on his upper lip.
As he worked, his jaw clenched and released, his head tilting this way and that to avoid mine. His hands expertly wrapped, threaded, twisted, and tugged the rope just how he wanted it.
Or ran from them. That's how I'd met Chris. I'd been running from the consistent annoyance of my roommate being gaga in love at our shared apartment. Little had I known what had awaited me at the mall. In the bedroom.
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Comfort him so badly. The fact that I couldn't because of how he'd confined me in his drawn-out seduction was frustrating. My verbal attempts to get his attention were drowned out by his voice as he continued. Or maybe he just chose to ignore me.
I never did drugs. Didn't care much for alcohol. And I'd always considered myself monogamous. I stayed true to my girl.