Heidi Betts - Loves Me, Loves Me Knot

Her short black hair danced at her nape when she shook her head. “This isn’t torture,” she replied.

Easy for her to say. She didn’t have a hot, wet woman lodged on her cock, clasping him like a vise.

“This,” she murmured softly, “is torture.”

Her slim, smooth back blocked his vision, but a foot-thick wall of concrete couldn’t have kept him from feeling her very special brand of torment as she reached down to cup his nuts.

She palmed them, but no matter how gentle the touch, the sensation went straight to his hypothalamus, sending his nerves screaming. Screaming, thudding, bucking for release.

The side of her thumb stretched to the tight flap of skin connecting his testicles to the base of his dick and began to caress, and he knew he was a goner.

“Move, Jenna,” he bit out, the words laced with as much animal lust as he’d ever heard in his own voice. “Move now and bring yourself off, or I’m going over without you.”

He’d always been one to take care of a woman’s fulfillment-especially this woman’s-before his own, but this time he didn’t have a choice. Try as he might to fight it, he was about to come, and she was on her own.

Instead of letting go, she continued what she was doing, the nails of her other hand digging into his thigh as her hips sped up. She lifted and fell, slid forward and back, the soft globes of her ass bouncing against his abdomen. The heavy beats of her breathing filled the room, and all the while she continued to fondle him.

His balls tightened and shrank in her hand, and pressure built. He thrust as hard and fast as he could from his prone position, wanting to fill her, go deep, give her a portion of the satisfaction she was giving him.

And then it was too late. The boas cut into his flesh as his entire body jerked, strained, convulsed… and emptied itself in a shower of pleasure so intense, he thought he might black out.

Through his haze of completion, he heard Jenna’s mewling cries and felt her spasming around him, and knew she’d reached her pinnacle, too.

The next time Gage came awake, it was with a clearer head than before, and his immediate thought was, Third time’s a charm.

He fully expected to open his eyes and find Jenna still straddled across his lap, still trying to stir his poor, abused willy to porn-star proportions, still trying-and succeeding-to ride him hard and put him up wet.

And this time, God help her, he would get loose and he would exact his revenge. He was downright looking forward to it.

But when he opened his eyes, the room was empty. Well, except for his bare-naked ass strapped to the four corners of the bedframe.

The sheets were a tangled mess beneath him and trailing onto the floor. A thin strip of sunlight shone through the partially open blind on the window behind him, bringing out the individual colors of the thin, worn rug covering the floor-and his clothes, strewn about in piles where Jenna had tossed them after stripping him down to his birthday suit.

His abductor, however, was nowhere in sight.

So she planned to use him for her own selfish sexual gratification and then take off, did she?

A knot of annoyance tightened in his stomach. He didn’t much appreciate being the object of her wham, bam, thank you, man mentality.

He didn’t much appreciate still being roped up like a calf during branding season, either.

Craning his neck, he took in the ties at his wrists. He’d done more than his fair share of yanking last night, and all he’d managed to do was pull the boas tighter. So he wouldn’t waste any more time with that.

Instead, he studied his bonds, lingering until he found what he thought might be an end piece. From the looks of it, the lengths of tasseled yarn weren’t so much knotted as wound around his wrists and the bedposts, then tied into tight bows.

Twisting his body, arm, and hand-and not all in the same direction-he got two fingers around one of the ends and slowly began to tug.

Slowly.

Slowly.

The end started to move. Mere centimeters at first, but it was coming.

He kept at it, making sure he didn’t rush and lose his grip or end up with tighter bindings than he’d started with. When the first boa loosened and fell from around his wrist, he let his head fall back on the pillow and bit back a shout of success.

Lungs burning from lack of oxygen while he’d held his breath in concentration, he rolled to his other side and yanked the end of that boa until his right wrist sprang free. A second later, his feet were undone and he was off the bed, grabbing for his clothes.

Hopping on one leg and then the other, he jumped into his pants on his way to the door and was tugging his plain black T-shirt over his chest as he hit the hall.

Feet bare and fly still open, he cocked his head to listen for sounds of Jenna. No telling where she was in this big old house, and he didn’t want her springing any more surprises on him. If anything, he intended to spring one or two on her.

When he didn’t hear anything on the second floor, he headed for the stairs, zipping up as he took the steps as quietly as possible one at a time.

As he reached the bottom, he heard someone talking and knew it was Jenna. Her voice was low and intense, coming from around the corner.

Careful not to make a sound, he stopped on the last step and leaned a shoulder against the wall. She was close, probably only a few feet away, even though he couldn’t see her.

He pictured her standing near the dining room table, speaking in hushed tones to… someone. Apparently on the phone, because he hadn’t heard a second voice even though there were plenty of pauses long enough for someone else to fill.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she insisted just above a whisper.

He imagined she was keeping her voice low in hopes of not waking him. Little did she know…

“Ohmigod, it was amazing. I can’t thank you two enough for all your help.”

Silence. Though he suspected-hell, he knew-she was talking to either Ronnie or Grace.

“No, he won’t,” she went on matter-of-factly. “He’ll be furious. I’m kind of hoping I can cut him loose while he’s still asleep and then run off to hide until the coast is clear.”

And now he was sure about something else-she was talking to one of her friends about him . About tying him up and having her wicked way with him. Over and over again.

“But hopefully the deed is done and it won’t matter how angry he is with me.”

Hmph. She should be so lucky. He didn’t appreciate being manipulated, no matter what the reason. Not when she could have just asked him to come over and help her scratch her itch.

That, he thought, really pissed him off…

Wait. What deed?

Wasn’t having sex with him last night “the deed”?

No, that couldn’t be right because she’d said “hopefully the deed was done” and that deed was definitely done. It had been done hard and fast and quite thoroughly. Twice.

So what else could she have hoped to accomplish with her little domination-and-submission routine?

“I don’t know.”

Her voice dropped, and he imagined her chewing the corner of her lower lip the way she always did when she was nervous.

“Don’t those over-the-counter tests say you have to wait seven to ten days or something?”

Gage’s brows knit. Test? What kind of test took seven to ten days?

Jenna sighed. “Start over, I guess. Start dating again, maybe visit one of those icky sperm banks. But I don’t want to think about any of that. I want to stay positive and hope the plan worked. If it does, Gage will kill me when he finds out, but I don’t think I care.”

The last of her words swirled around him, going in one ear and out the other because his internal organs had all stopped functioning at sperm banks.