Bed of Thornes (Bed of Thornes Trilogy Book 1) (20 page)

W
e
get upstairs, I open the door to the room at the end of the hall and flip the lights on. I go over to the dresser and pull out a long wound rope and the blindfold. As I walk over to Adrian, I lay the rope and blindfold on the bench at the far end of the room. I walk up to him and unbutton his jeans.

“Take them off.” I instruct. While he undresses, I do the same.

I hand him the rope, glancing at his masculine hands, my body trembles at the sight of them. I walk over to the bench and turn to see him watching me. I bend over the dark wood and let him take in the sight of me.

“I want you to kneel behind me as close as you can and watch me.”

He walks up to where I am bent over and kneels down on the floor, facing my pussy. I reach through my thighs and run my fingers across my wetness.

“See how wet you make me?” I ask him.

“I love it.” He expresses.

“You do this to me. I can't stop thinking about you, about fucking you. I want it all of the time, there's not a moment that goes by that I'm not craving what we do.” I confess. This is the most I've told him about what I feel sexually. There's more, but I stop there.

I continue stroking my pussy for him to see, rubbing my clit and moaning. After my tease session, I sit up and turn to face him. He runs his hands along my body and kisses my skin with his delicious lips. Every touch causes flares of arousal.

“I want you to tie me, be sure I'm bound and can't move.” I tell him as I stand up.

I walk over to the long table in the middle of the room and step up onto it, reaching up to the ropes that are hanging above me. There are leather straps that accompany the ropes, to place around wrists.

“Take these and wrap them around my wrists.” I tug on the leather straps. “Tie the rope up here around my arms so it holds me in place. The rope in your hand, use it to tie my feet to the posts on the sides of this table. Have me wide open so you can do to me as you please. I want you in control, to use anything you want on me from the dresser while I'm blindfolded. Make both of us come.”

He steps onto the table in front of me, I lift my arms up above me. He places my wrists into the straps and fastens them. The cool leather awakens my senses further. He grabs onto the hanging ropes and wraps them around each of my arms, tying a knot at the base of them. To tie my legs to the post, he bends down, I can see his erection and my blood rushes hot through my body. He finishes the ropes on my legs and ankles. I'm helpless, I love it.

“Wait.” I say before he puts the blindfold on. “I want to watch you first. Sit on the bench facing me and stroke your cock for me.”

“Do you have any lube?” He asks me before doing as I instruct.

“There's some in the top drawer.” I tell him and he goes over to get it. The anticipation of seeing him raises my adrenaline.

“Should I come or do you want me to stop before I do?”

“I want to see you please yourself while looking at me until you come. When you finish, you can put the blindfold on me and do as you want with me.”

My temperature rises as he slowly starts stroking his hard shaft. The lubrication emulating the sounds of a wet pussy, his cock shines from it. I watch his strong hand move up and down, the head of his dick is swollen and makes me ache for him to be inside me. His head goes back for a moment, his mouth open as he moans from his own pleasure. My pussy swells at the sight, throbbing and pulsating as it gets even more wet. He looks back at me, biting his lip, he quickens his stroke. His body is moving in the most sensual ways.

“Make it come for me.” I say to him.

My breathing becomes more rapid, my breasts heave up and down. I can feel my nipples harden and my skin tingle with goosebumps from the excitement. I watch him as his body starts to tense, his moans raise my climax without touch. His arms showing every muscle with each motion. He clenches up and his back arches, pushing his full erection towards me, I can see every vein. He circles the head of his cock with a steady pace, the head poking through every quick stroke. He lets out a loud groan and his body begins to jerk as his come shoots out. The shaft of his dick jumping up and down from his release.

“So fucking hot.” I breathe out.

He pants and stands, grabbing the blindfold, he walks over to me and places it over my eyes. All I can see is the vision in my head of him jerking off in front of me. That thought is all I need while he takes over my body. I can feel him running his tongue down my breasts and over my nipples, sucking on them while biting gently. I let out a gasp and my body jerks a little at his touch. There's a moment of nothing, I wonder what he's getting from the dresser. I hear him step up behind me.

With a tickle, I feel the tip of something graze against my back. It touches me again, this time on my ass. His hand rubs my ass cheek and he takes it away. With a sudden snap, I feel the sting of the leather against my skin. I can't tell what he's using, but it's wide like a belt. The next strike is different, a thinner and more pointy feel.

“Which do you prefer?” He whispers into my ear. “The paddle or the whip?”

“I have no preference, Mr. Montez, use them both if you like.”

He squirts lubrication all over me, it feels cold as it runs down my body. His hands run across my legs, my thighs, my stomach, my breasts, rubbing it evenly over me. The touch of his hands excites me further. I feel the tip of something rub against my ass. He connects the paddle with my ass, making it bounce back from the hit. I cry out with pleasure. Again, he hits high and low, rubbing my ass with his hands in between each strike of the paddle.

The sensations send me into a high, my climax rising. Suddenly, he's in front of me, tugging on my breasts, nibbling on my nipples. He wraps the whip around my waist and pull me close to him, as far as the bondage of the ropes will allow. His fingers run across my pussy and lead to my clit. He begins rubbing, making it swell even more. I feel him bring his body closer, pressing against mine. He rubs the head of his cock against my clit, making me squirm.

With the whip tight around me, he holds onto it with one hand and the other hand slides his cock inside of me. He fucks me into a mind-blowing orgasm. His body rubbing against my lubricated skin. I feel him explode inside of my pussy, his hot come making me come wildly. My body jerks and yanks at the ropes, I release every ounce onto his throbbing hard cock. I feel weak, hanging from the ropes in a limp form.

I
t's
Friday, the beginning of my birthday weekend. Jenna has already been talking my head off all day at the gallery about tonight. I'm pretty sure she's more excited about all of this than I am. I could go without the reminder that I'm turning thirty. I called and spoke with my mom this morning, she seems to be doing a lot better. They will have her on a heart monitor for a couple of more days to see if there are any episodes they can record. After doing an echo test, they didn't find any problems that should be causing the complications she was having.

Jenna walks into the display room and comes back out with a bored look on her face. “I so wish the Triple R's were over and done with already. What a drag knowing those are next week. I know you're still on edge with that weighing on your mind.”

“It's not bothering me as much as it used to in the past years.”

“Wow, really? Huh. He must be giving it to you good if he has the power to take away the nerves of the Triple R's.” She chuckles.

I toss a rag at her. “Shut up.” I laugh. “It's not that. If he's done anything though, he's taught me not to dwell on things that we can't control. To just let it be, so to speak. It is what it is. I can't control everything.”

“Ronni, admit it, the dick is just that good.” She laughs and throws the rag back at me. “You know it is!”

“There's no talking to you, Playmate.” I shake my head and grin.

The front door opens and an older lady walks in. Her hair is silver, matching her jewelry. She's dressed like she comes from a prestigious background. She walks up to the front desk and looks over at us.

“I'm looking for a Mrs. Veronica Thorne.” She states properly.

I step forward. “It's Ms., and that would be me. Can I help you?”


Ms.
Thorne, I have been sent to request of you a piece to have considered by the Art Institute of France. The head of the institution has asked that you choose one of your finest masterpieces to be submitted. If you should be accepted, this will grant you an extension of your gallery, to display your work in the city of the finest arts, Paris. The gallery would be under your ownership, funded by AIF. You would keep most royalties, minus a small percentage donated to the institution for the upkeep of your gallery. If you accept the offer should it be presented, you would be required to attend a meeting with the leaders of the grant. Also, you would need to be there through the entire set up of the gallery as well as the grand opening. After that, you will have the option to return home and allow one of our interns to daily run the gallery for you or stay and operate it yourself. Does this sound like an opportunity you would be interested in?”

I am sure that I have lost all of the color in my face. I feel like I may pass out. This has to be a joke, a dream, something! There's no way there's a messenger standing in my gallery, that I built from nothing on my own, telling me that I now have a chance to be showcased in Paris, France. A true artist's dream come true. Most could only hope for such an opportunity. Some fight to get there, not all of them succeeding. This is crazy.

“Ms. Thorne?” She catches my attention.

“Forgive me, I'm taken by the incredible chance I have been given. How did this happen? Somebody must have put in a word for me to even be considered.”

“There was an anonymous entry submitted to the institution, the leaders were so impressed, they wanted to present you with the offer to enter officially and be reviewed by the panel.”

Mom. I know it was her. She's always known that I am willing to go the distance to spread my work all over the world and share my passion with as many as possible. I've never attempted to get my work displayed in Paris, doubting it would even be suitable for their high standards.

“I would be honored.” I tell the silver haired lady and look over at Jenna who has her jaw wide open.

“Fantastic. All I need is for you to gather the piece you want reviewed and to sign a permission form by this coming Wednesday. I will then return for pick up, please have the form and the piece ready by noon that day. It was a pleasure meeting you.” She tilts her head down slightly and reaches out to shake my hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, thank you so much for coming.” I tell her and she turns to leave.

“What just happened?” Jenna finally speaks.

“I don't know how, but I just earned a way to possibly have my own gallery in Paris, France!” I exclaim to make myself feel that's it's real.

“That is absolutely huge for you!” Jenna comes up to hug me tightly.

“I'll have to create something special for this, there's nothing I've done that I would send in, it has to be made just for this occasion.” I give Jenna a wide smile.

“Now this definitely calls for celebration. What a birthday gift!”

“Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves, I haven't actually been accepted yet.”

“Yet!” She exclaims. “Trust, you will be accepted. So we're celebrating!”

“Champagne and strip club it is!” I throw my hands into the air and shout.

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