Then I felt
him
, his body pressing against me, his hard spot rubbing between my legs. He bucked at me as though we were naked. It didn’t have the same effect, but it still felt good. He was thick, mad, and I was his person to take it all out on.
I put my head to the refrigerator and let out a long moan. Jonathan hurried and moved his head side to side against my face, forcing me to look back at him.
“Sorry,” I managed to say in a hurried breath.
His tongue was at my mouth again.
He kissed me deep and then began to follow my lips with the tip of his tongue, taking heavy breaths with his body still against mine, holding my hands above my head. When he moved from my lips, he moved down to my chin and then to my neck. His lips and tongue were a perfect machine together, going to the left side of my neck first, then down and around to the right side. He started to kiss down, as far as he could go until he reached my shirt. In my mind he would have stopped or taken me elsewhere, but that’s not what Jonathan did. I felt his mouth move over my shirt. His teeth clamped onto the cloth and he started to pull. It almost felt like I was being attacked by a savage animal, but it was just a frustrated, sexy, billionaire who need relief and release.
He pulled for a few seconds and then stopped. He used the tip of his tongue to actually lick along my shirt, on each breast, going as far as he could until he ran out of arm length from holding my wrists against the refrigerator. When he came back up and looked me in the eyes, he was as unhinged as ever. Nothing had seemed to cool him off or even please him. I thrust myself against him, reminding him of what exactly he had between his legs – and what I had between mine.
Jonathan bent his knee a little and started to lift his leg which lifted my skirt. I felt the cloth against my skin, moving up, but only moving so far. It was torture to feel because I wanted to be naked for Jonathan Black. I wanted to feel him. I wanted to understand what made him so mad so I could calm him. Bring him back to a normal reality.
He finally let go one of my wrists and my hand shook and became tingly from being over my head for so long. That didn’t matter to me, I went right for him, between his legs. I felt his thick stiffness all at once and squeezed, moaning again. His hands grabbed my face, the tips of all five fingers digging into each side of my cheeks. As he held my face and I held between his legs, we were both shaking. I shook with desperate anticipation and a little bit of fear. Jonathan Black shook from… himself. I could see that he was beginning to even worry himself, maybe channeling parts of that he didn’t know existed or parts he thought were long gone.
“I’m going to have you,” he said in a whisper that still had a small growl to it.
“Okay,” I said.
“I’m going to have you all to myself.”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to tie you and handcuff you, at the same time…”
I had no words, again, so I just nodded.
That’s when Jonathan lifted me and began to carry me.
-3-
As he carried me, my legs
were tight around his waist. My fingers were interlocked and my elbows locked tight. I stared at him, feeling my hair bounce as he walked, his eyes not leaving mine. In the silence as we just stared at each other came a sense of
something
I couldn’t figure out at first. It was a lethal mix of lust, romance, erotic, and a deep seeded passion that we both had but we rarely let out.
I wanted Jonathan Black to tie me up. I wanted him to handcuff me. I didn’t want to wake up handcuffed on a plane and I didn’t want to be blindfolded. Now, it felt petty and silly. I wanted him to be aggressive and throw me to the bed. I wanted him to show me his command and force my body to accept his command. If it took away the rage and frustration that seemed to be pouring over him right then, then I’d take it.
He took to the steps without looking away from me. Three steps up I felt something starting to vibrate, following by a beep. The beeping continued and I struggled to stay focused on Jonathan.
“Do you…”
“Just a phone call,” he said and continued to walk.
The beeping stopped and then started again. Whoever was calling wanted his attention. By the time the phone went off a third time, Jonathan’s face started to change again. He looked annoyed and angry, but he didn’t look away from me. I held onto his neck with all my might, wanting him to know that I was not going to let go. He’d have to force me to break my hold.
Which is what he did.
He turned and kicked open a door. He walked to a bed and then let his hands slide from my backside around to my hips. When he moved more forward he then pushed me. My legs opened and my hands unlocked themselves. I was in the air for a split second before crashing against the bed.
“Your bag,” I said.
We had forgotten my special bag in all our erotic commotion.
“Still downstairs,” I said.
“I always come prepared,” Jonathan said. “Go to the closet and open it. To the left is a shelf built into the wall. There’s everything we need there. One of each.”
I moved from the bed and opened the closet to find it full of suits. Suit after suit, all with the subtle smell of clean and a hint of Jonathan’s musky, sexy smell. To the left, just as he said, was a small shelf built into the wall. The middle shelf, eye level with me, was a pair of handcuffs. I pulled them off with the sound of the metal against the wood. Behind them rest a black piece of cloth.
The blindfold.
That’s all I could find so that’s all that he needed for me.
When I turned around holding an object in each hand, Jonathan held his cell phone, staring at the lit up screen. I wasn’t sure who would be bothering him and when the phone started to ring again, I could hear him grunting under his breath.
Something told me it wasn’t Oliver Rush. If it had been the man who tried to harm me, I was pretty sure Jonathan Black’s demeanor would have been even more intense. This was someone else, but still someone who bothered him.
“Throw them on the bed,” Jonathan said, still looking down at his phone.
I did in one shot.
“Now,” he said as he placed the phone on the nightstand next to the large bed. “Take your clothes off. Hurry.”
Hearing it and registering it took a few seconds. Jonathan didn’t like wasting those few seconds. He charged at me, coming around the bed like a bull ready to attack. I started to side step and finally turned, backing up until I hit the wall. Jonathan was there a second later, his hands at my skirt. He pulled, fighting against the resistance of the zipper holding it in place. Jonathan’s strength won as he tore the skirt, breaking the zipper. I heard the sound of the cloth tearing and I gasped as I felt the skirt fall free from my body.
Jonathan hadn’t taken it off, he’d literally torn it off my body. I caught sight of the skirt for a brief moment as he threw it behind him. I now stood in a shirt, panties, and my heels.
His hands attacked my legs next, rubbing them, pushing his body back against mine. He pressed much harder than he had to, so much that I actually lost my breath for a few seconds. I couldn’t find air to protest.
I wanted this.
From Jonathan Black.
“I told you to take your fucking clothes off,” he said with his mouth against my ear. There was nothing romantic about his tone. It was pure lust and pure anger.
It was beautiful.
“Now take your fucking clothes off.”
All in a second, he backed up but not too far from me. I was left with a couple feet separating us. He casually slid his hands into his pockets. After all that had just happened in the past few minutes, there wasn’t a drop of sweat on Jonathan’s face. He handled himself like no man I’d ever seen or could have imagined before.
This time I didn’t hesitate. My hands were on my shirt, lifting it off. Before it could touch the floor, my hands were then behind my back, unsnapping my bra. My breasts moved forward, pushing my bra down. Jonathan let out a groan and I slid my bra completely off. I stood straight and slipped my fingers into my panties, bringing my arms together to press my breasts against each other. They ached for his touch, my nipples erect and sore. I’d never been so engaged sexually in one day in my life.
Jonathan stepped back to me, placing his hands to my wrists again. His mouth came to mine but we didn’t kiss. We were an inch apart and he turned me. My back was to the bed and he lifted me and tossed me on the bed again. This time, being naked, gave him more of a show. I climbed back on the bed and watched him come at me.
“On your back, hands over your head,” he said.
I listened.
He took the handcuffs first and slapped them on my right wrist. Then they were attached to one of the openings on the headboard. The clicking of the cuffs turned me on, leaving my body gushing with heat yet they made my skin shiver.
Jonathan walked around to the other side of the bed. He leaned across my body, his tie tickling my lower stomach as he reached for the blindfold. He pulled back and his tie touched me again. I cried out his name, arching my back, losing control not only to Jonathan, but myself too.
He tied the blindfold to the headboard first and then around my wrist.
When it was done, he pulled on the cloth, making sure it was tight.
It was.
“Try to get out,” he commanded.
I pulled with both hands at the same time. The handcuffs made a sound, the blindfold cloth didn’t. Both tightened on my wrist, the cuffs obviously causing more pain as the metal scraping against bone hurt like hell.
But I was now Jonathan Black’s. Again. He could take out his frustration, his need, his desire with me.
He loosened his tie and tore it from his neck. With the flick of his wrist, the tie landed on my body, just below my breasts. I started to breathe wild, wishing the tie would have landed on my breasts, on one of my nipples. His fingers were then working fast, stripping himself of his shirt and then his pants. Watching him strip down was enough to make me melt. I kept my legs together tight and started to gently move them, actually using them to rub myself. It was a move of desperation but I needed it. I could feel the wet folds of my sex growing in sensitivity and I was pleasing myself so much that once Jonathan pushed his boxers down, revealing his thick throbbing self, I was already at the peak of climax. I thrust and I tried to arch my back; I just needed that little bit extra to orgasm. If I had my hands free, I would have just caressed my sweet spot, at my clitoris. A few seconds of that and I would have exploded.
I couldn’t move my hands and I couldn’t reach the final move.
Jonathan walked to the foot of the bed and his hands moved to my ankles. He slid down and pulled at my high heels, taking them off.
That was the final move.
Feeling his fingers grazing along the back of my ankles was all I needed. My entire body locked up, frozen, my muscles tense. My lower stomach and sex throbbed as I started to come. I kept my legs tight together needing some kind of sexual touch to satisfy my orgasm but Jonathan wouldn’t allow it. His hands came around to the tops of my ankles and moved in a hurry, up my legs. Once at my knees, he forced my legs opened. I tried to fight him but between his strength and all my energy being called between my legs, I was no match for him. My legs opened and I cried out, lifting myself up, needing him. His thumbs cut to my inner thighs and he came up, touching along the line of my panties. He moved across just in time to touch my now wet panties, giving me just enough pleasure to enjoy my orgasm. As I thrust, he held his thumbs there, allowing me to satisfy myself. It was a change of pace from the Jonathan Black who commanded everything… but then again, I was the one handcuffed and tied to his bed, right?
He let me moan and cry his name for only a few seconds before his thumbs were gone from between my legs. His fingers wrapped around my panties and he pulled. My body was still in the air and my panties moved down with ease. Jonathan threw them to the floor and moved onto the bed like a hungry animal again. Predator and prey, I tried to look at him but I couldn’t stop closing my eyes as the intense pleasure rippled through my body.
His hands were back at my hips. He suddenly felt twice as big, his grip twice as strong. As he squeezed I groaned and when he squeezed harder my instinct was to put my hands to his wrists to stop him. My brain told my body to do so. I tried and felt the sting of pain in my right wrist from the handcuffs. My left wrist pulled tighter, leaving my hand feeling cool with a touch of numbness.
Jonathan placed himself between my legs and against my aching sex. He was there, right there, and with the hardest of thrusts, he entered me. I had no time to react because he pulled out immediately after. His hands pulled at my body, making everything tighter on my hands. I cried out, wanting to remind him that I was tied up and couldn’t move, but he thrust at me again. This time, he fully entered me, pressing as hard as he needed to. With every intense inch of him, I struggled for more air.
My mind screamed
Oh, fuck!
again and again as his thick definition found its place at home.
He moved his hands from my hips up to my chest, cupping my delicate breasts with a strong grip. He just squeezed and held. I finally regained enough composure to look at him and he was staring at me with the same rage filled eyes from the kitchen. As he took heavy breaths I could feel him pulsing inside me, sending shocks of pleasure all around.
“Jonathan,” I managed to say.
I went to say it a second time but couldn’t find the breath to do so.
He replied to me saying my name, just once.
“Isabella Grace.”
From there, there were no more words.
Just sounds.
Very intense sounds.
-4-
The harder Jonathan enjoyed my body
, the more frustrated he looked. He started out on his knees, thrusting me as he held my breasts. Slowly, his left hand moved up until he gripped the side of my neck. He held me but there wasn’t an ounce of romance in the hold. I kept my legs open wide for him, wanting him to reach everything he needed to reach. His right hand moved from my other breast and the moment it did, both my breasts were moving with his motion. I gave up trying to thrust back at him, knowing he wanted complete control of this.