note: If sexual scenes make you uncomfortable, run away now. Like. Right now.
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I had forgotten what a mess my apartment was. I really hoped Kahlan wouldn't notice. Luckily, he noticed Charles instead, my fluffy white cat, and he paused to give him chin scratches. He was hot and he liked cats? God damn.
"Are you sure about this?" he said, after I had managed to get him as far as the living room and then had to sit down on the couch. "You're really drunk." He kept saying that. Annoying.
"You're drunk too," I said. I had unhooked his belt from his jeans, and yanked it out of the loops. I folded it over and snapped it, mock-threatening. "Have you been a bad boy?"
He leaned down, his arms on either side of me against the couch, looking down at me. "Oh, no, no, no. You've been a very naughty girl."
Oh. Heat blossomed deep within me. I would have dropped the belt if he hadn't held out his hand for it. I set it gently in his hands. Was he really . . . was he actually going to-?
"Hold out your hands," he said softly, his voice a command I could not disobey. I did as he said, watching in drunken mystification as he looped the belt around and formed a pair of cuffs around my wrists. Keeping a hold on the loose end, he pulled my bound hands above my head. I felt his hand shaking as he stroked along my chin.
"Is this still alright with you?" he said. "Because I really . . . really want to do bad things to you."
I didn't even hesitate. "You can do whatever you want."
The grin that spread across his face was so deliciously predatory. I felt like I shrunk under him, suddenly small and helpless, his willing victim. He took a few moments to just look at me, and to see the appreciation in his gaze made me glow.
"Hmm," he said, examining the cuffs. "Let's try something different."
He released the cuffs, setting the belt aside and crushing me in his arms, his lips finding mine in a deep, passionate kiss. I felt his teeth clip my lip and then his hand was tangled in my hair, holding my head back and baring my throat to a trail of nips and sucks on my tender skin. I was gasping, shaking at every touch. I imagined one of those dramatic Harlequin Romance book covers, and realized I felt how they looked.
He pulled down the zipper on my dress as he kissed me, slipping it off me with expert fingers. Again, the appreciation with which he looked over my body, lingering in all the right place, made me tingle. He hooked his finger under my panties, but didn't pull them down. He was biting his lip, as if he was struggling.
Suddenly he laid me back on the couch, standing above me with the belt in his hand. "Curl your legs up to your chest," he said. "And put your wrists together behind your thighs.
I was little confused, until I actually got in position and he began to cuff my hands again. I realized that in this position, all my most intimate parts were perfectly exposed to him, and I could do nothing to cover them with my hands bound. The feeling of tightness and bondage was driving me wild. I found myself whimpering before he even touched me.
He grinned, running his fingers up the back of my thighs. "Do you like this?"
"Y-yes," I stuttered. My panties were soaked, a desperate need making me ache and chasing away the drunken haze that had clouded my thoughts. "Kahlan . . . please . . ."
He leaned over me, his face far from the inconspicuous library boy he had appeared as at the bar. "Please what?" he said, and I felt his fingers hook around my panties again. This time, however, he slipped them up and pressed part of them into my bound hands. "Hold these out of my way," he said. "And try not to be too loud."
He trailed kisses down my legs, his fingers caressing along my body. His mouth was so close I could hardly stand it. Goosebumps covered me. "Please . . ." I moaned again.
Suddenly his mouth was on me. His tongue caressed along every fold, teased along every overwhelmingly sensitive part, so that my whole body began to shudder and I threw my head back as I groaned at the pleasure. He alternated between gentle sucks and precision strokes with his tongue, building up such a heat in me that I felt ready to explode. I was panting, and felt as if I had to struggle just to stop the seemingly endless tease.
I felt him chuckle against me as I pulled at the belt. "You're so sensitive," he said. He rose off of me for a moment, his tongue licking over his lips. "You're delicious, Liz. Every time you squirm you get a little bit wetter."
I felt as if I should have blushed, but all the heat and blood in me was centered squarely between my legs. It was all I could think of. I wanted so badly to feel his tongue again. "More please," I whimpered, wiggling the little bit I could with how bound I was. It was so frustrating to not be able to touch him, even more so when he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside, his porcelain skin peppered with a light trail of hair across his chest and in a happy trail to his groin. I felt his fingers dig into my thighs. The way he looked at me . . . god, it was like he wanted to eat me alive.
"I'm really trying to go easy on you, Liz," he said. "But all your begging is really making that difficult." He leaned down, and whispered. "I want to give you something to really beg about."
I felt his fingers trace along between my legs, slick with the wetness there. He circled my clit, pressed – and then was inside of me. I clenched my mouth shut tight against the scream of pleasure that wanted to come out, muffling it down to a desperate cry. My feet kicked uncontrollably. He had one hand on my chest, firmly holding me down, watching my face with rapt attention as he slowly caressed inside me with his finger. He pulled out, and then thrust in again, this time with two fingers. I squealed.
"Next time I'll do something about all this kicking of yours," he said. "I'll need to teach you how to hold still."
Next time. Holy crap.
His fingers kept thrusting in a tantalizingly slow, methodical rhythm, and then he took his other hand and began to tease my clit. Now every thrust was bringing a squeal out of me, and I felt myself getting unbearably closer . . . and closer . . .
The orgasm wracked my entire body. Every part of me clenched and I pressed my face desperately into the couch as I screamed. He cruelly, unbearably, thrust faster as I came, drawing out my scream with a surgeon's precision. Hearing my cry subsiding, he withdrew his fingers and slowly licked them, watching me as he did.
"Fuck, Kahlan," I breathed. I couldn't even form coherent sentences. I could hardly breathe. I watched as he stood up from the couch and unbuttoned his jeans.
"That's exactly what I intend to do," he said. He paused suddenly, and said, "Do you have condoms? I wasn't exactly . . . prepared for this."
"Bedside drawer," I said, a little breathlessly and extremely impatient. He disappeared into the bedroom for a moment, and came back with the tiny blue packet in his hand.
He kicked off his jeans, and then his briefs. He was hard and ready, rolling the condom quickly over his tip. Any hopes I'd had of being untied for this were cast away when he positioned himself above me, and I felt the tip of that thick thing tease my opening.
"Ready?" he whispered. I moaned and nodded, then moaned even louder as he stretched me, my already sensitive muscles spasming at the sensation and I almost came again. His careful control and maddening patience when pleasuring me was gone: he thrust into me with an urgency that made me grit my teeth at combination of pain and pleasure. One hand he wrapped around my throat, stifling my air, and the other he continued to tease my clit. All I could do was lay there, crying out his name with increasing ecstasy, until I heard him moan and felt him press even deeper inside me as he climaxed.
"We should get you to bed," was the last thing I heard him say as he removed the belt from around my wrists. All the liquor, adrenaline, and raging hormones were catching up with me swiftly. I was only barely aware of him scooping me up in his arms before I was sleeping like a baby.
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note: Well. Now you know what this book is gonna be like folks. I'm sorry, but boys who like cats are extra hot. Insta turn on.
Like what you read? Leave a little vote, click that little ☆. Comment and tell me horror stories about your ex. Or cute stories about your cat. My kitten smells like mushrooms and likes to attack my boyfriend's butt while he's sleeping (she takes after mommy, bless her heart). She also tries to eat my hair. She's a brat.