Page 97 of Proposal Play
“Yes?”
She closes her eyes, then like it pains her, she takes a deep breath and opens them. “You pick.”
Music to my fucking ears.
I lean closer, sinking deeper onto the bed. “Right. Because sex complicates everything, right. Including a marriage?” I ask, smoothly, confidently, using her words on her.
“It does.”
“But orgasms don’t?”
“Orgasms are fine.”
“Fine? Just fine?” I ask, playing with my food a little longer.
She bangs a fist against the mattress. “More than fine. God, please. Use one. Fuck me with it. Just fuck me with it now. I can’t stand how turned on I am,” she says, then shoves her hands into her hair, a desperate act of a woman undone.
And I’m a man breaking. But also holding tight to a shred of control—a control I need. I rise from the bed, leave her with the bag, then lift a finger. “But no touching, right?”
“Yes. Dammit. Fine. Whatever,” she says, so frustrated, so wound up…
“Just a little horny, honey?” I ask, tilting my head.
She narrows her eyes at me. “If you’d watchedmeget off, you’d be horny too.”
I bend down and dip my face to hers, dusting the tip of our noses together. “You’re right,” I say, then brush my lips dangerously near to hers. Everything inside me screamskiss her. My body burns with the need to touch her, but I don’t. I’m having too much fun with her desire. “Iwouldbe horny, so let me help you.”
I step away. Head to the closet. Grab some ties. When I return, I say, “Just to make sure you’re not tempted to touch me.”
She draws in a sharp breath. “You’re going to tie me up and fuck me with a toy?”
“Just following the rules.”
She smiles wickedly and moves quickly so before I can tie up her wrists, she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her leggings and skims them down, pushing down her panties too, like she’s afraid I’d leave them on.
And just like that, she’s in control. Because she’s half-naked and her perfect, pink pussy is on display for me. Wet, pretty, and glistening. I groan as I stare wantonly at her. It is going to be so fucking hard not to touch her.
But rules are rules.
And even if they weren’t, I can hear the echo of her words loud and clear—sex complicates everything.
And sex can lead to regret.
I hate regret. And I hate the thought of Maeve regretting me. I won’t fuck her till I’m sure she won’t regret it. If, and it’s a big if, we ever sleep together, I don’t want her to tell me it was a mistake, to say we shouldn’t have done it, to backpedal in the morning.
I want to fuck her, and taste her, and please her, and make her come on my face and cock and fingers with no regrets.
This, though? This game? This I’ll allow.
I straddle her, my hard cock nearly touching her soft stomach from under the towel I’m wearing. I wrap a tie around her right wrist, binding her to the bed. Then her left, doing the same with that wrist. When I tug on the material, there’s a little bit of give, but not too much.
“Safe word?” I ask.
Her lips twitch. She takes her time, then she says, “Warm nuts.”
Fuck, I think I love her. I really do. But now is not thetime to get lost in those thoughts. Or feelings that are far too fizzy for my own good. I dip my head so she can’t see the size of my smile. When I raise it, my smile burns off. I slide down her body, adjusting the towel I’m wearing. Half wondering why I’m even wearing a fucking thing at all. But maybe because she’s still in that shirt.
Settling between her thighs, I reach for a vibrator. “You said you need five, Maeve?”