Obsession

“Look at you,” he said. “Your body writhing. Did you think I was going to leave you here while I went and watched a baseball game?”

I didn’t answer. I suddenly felt foolish. I had been afraid that he’d left me here, totally exposed and helpless to escape until he freed me. I’d been under his complete control before, yet this was the first time I’d felt such a moment of panic.

Why?

Because he seemed different today. From the moment I’d arrived, I could sense a certain intensity level in his looks and his touch.

Something darker.

“I wouldn’t leave you,” he said. “I would never leave you. You and I, we’re connected in a way we can’t control.”

I swallowed. Did I sense something ominous in his tone? Or was I a little unnerved because I was bound and blindfolded?

How could a person be unnerved and extremely aroused at the same time?

“Do you trust me?” he asked. He was very close to me now. Maybe a foot away. I could tell by the sound of his voice.

I gyrated my hips, a motion that would please him, given the view he had of my pussy with my legs spread the way they were. “Touch me,” I said. My chest heaved with each breath. “Touch me before I die.”

“Do you trust me?” he repeated, and I felt the weight of his body on the bed, but I couldn’t tell where he was.

“Yes. Yes, I trust you.”

“Completely?” he asked, his warm breath suddenly tickling my clitoris, and my God, I almost came.

“Yes, yes. Completely, I trust you. Please touch me. Baby…”

I cried out when something cold and wet stroked my clit. What? The sensation had me confused. I’d expected the warmth of his tongue.

The cold and wet brushed against my inner thigh now, and I finally placed what it was. A cube of ice.

He stroked my pussy again with the ice cube. My nub clenched. My hips jerked.

“I wonder if I could make you come like this,” he said softly, and stroked me with the ice again.

“I don’t know. It feels good, but it’s so cold…”

The bed squeaked as he got up. Where was he going now? “Baby, please,” I protested.

His lips brushed against mine. They were cold and wet. From the ice. My body writhed, my not so subtle cue that I wanted him. On top of me. Inside me. Fucking me until I collapsed from sheer exhaustion.

He kissed my jaw, then trailed his tongue to my earlobe and suckled. He whispered, “Do you love me?”

“You know I love everything that you do to me,” I quickly replied, and that was the absolute truth. I craved this man’s touch in a way I wasn’t sure was healthy. “Even if you make me wait for it.”

The ice cube circled my nipple, and my flesh tightened instantly. A moment later, I felt the flick of his hot tongue. Just a flick though, not nearly enough. I arched my back, pushing my breasts forward.

“Do you love me?” he repeated.

Slowly, I lowered my back. He was different today. Why was he suddenly asking me about love, knowing my situation? Knowing the circumstances under which we’d come together?

“I know you love this.” He began stroking my clit with his thumb. Back and forth. Back and forth.

“Mmm, yes. I love that.” I began to pant, close to the edge. “I can never get enough of your hands on my body.”

“What about my tongue?” He adjusted his body between my legs, and I bit down on my bottom lip in anticipation. The moment his tongue came down on me, my hips bucked and I started to whimper.

“Baby, I love your tongue. I can’t get enough of your tongue. Ohhh.”

He suckled me until I was crying from the pleasure and on the verge of exploding. Then he pulled back, denying me my release.

“No, no. Please,” I begged. “I need you, baby. I need—”

“Do you love me?” he asked again.

“Yes!” I cried out. “I love you. I love you.”

“Oh, baby. I love you, too.” Hastily, he untied my legs and hooked them over his shoulders and began to devour me. He sucked, he nibbled, he buried his tongue inside me. He ate greedily, as though my pussy was the last meal he would ever have.

My whole body convulsed as my orgasm gripped me, gripped me harder than anything I’d ever experienced before. It zapped me of my energy. Stole my breath. Left me shuddering as though a speeding train had just rocketed through my body.

Even through my pleasure, I was aware that something had changed between us.

I wasn’t sure it was for the better.

1

Six weeks earlier…

I awoke to the sounds of fucking coming from the other room.

For several moments I lay on my bed, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. My right temple throbbed, evidence of too many margaritas that evening, and a general lack of sleep over the past few days.

Yawning, I rolled over and glanced at the bedside clock.

Three-thirteen in the morning.

“Right there…yes, right there. Ohhh…”

Despite my headache, I couldn’t help giggling. Maybe Marnie thought I was dead to the world and therefore didn’t think she needed to be quiet. Or maybe she didn’t care. All I knew, as I lay there, was that she and the guy she’d picked up were screwing like this was their last night on earth—if the loud moans and screams coming from the other room were any indication.

“Yes, yes! Fuck me, baby!” Marnie screamed.

I hugged my pillow and closed my eyes, but I knew I wouldn’t be getting back to sleep anytime soon. Not with the sexual Olympics going on in the next room.

I heard a consistent banging on the wall—likely the headboard. At least, I hoped it wasn’t someone’s body part hitting the wall. And how thin were these walls, anyway, that I could hear their every grunt and moan?

I debated getting out of bed and going to Marnie’s bedroom door. But the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass her and the stud in the room with her.