Hard Time (Hard as Nails #1) (14 page)

It’s exotic.

It’s erotic.

She wants control.

And I can’t wait to hand it to her.

* * *

Katie

I was never one of those girls who was into kissing. It just wasn’t my thing. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons I had so often found myself in the clutches of bad boys who love nothing more than to hit it, quit it, and then run from it. I’ve been scolded by Dee before for not doing enough kissing and doing too much sucking.

But I crave Street’s kisses. I enjoy and revel in every bite of his lips against mine, an appetizer to what will come next. Eventually, I pull away from his kiss and brace one hand against his chest. “This isn’t just about me, by the way. Are you ready for all your dreams to come true, too?”

“Baby…” He chokes on his own heavy breathing. “With that mouth of yours, they’ve already all come true. “

That’s the Street I’ve been wanting to show up. That’s the cocky guy with the panty-melting grin, and overabundance of self-confidence that’s about to be taken on the ride of his life. I can’t be sure of too many things when it comes to the man before me, but the one thing I know for certain is that he’s not used to being submissive. The fact that he’d give control to me is beyond exciting.

I step back and point to the bed. “I want you out of your clothes and on your back.”

I expect a sarcastic challenge, but he does as commanded and kicks free from the slacks and his boxer briefs as he rushes toward the bed. He dives backwards so that he lands on his back with his head cradled in his hands.

I wet my lips and smile. Things are about to get crazy, and I’m going to relish every minute of it.

Chapter Seventeen

Katie

I’ve already tied one of Street’s hands to the bedpost, and I lean against him as I tie his other hand. I straddle him, the thin fabric of my panties rubbing against his bare cock.

He had been apprehensive when I fashioned the first tie from a pillow case, and swallowed a nervous gulp when I retrieved another one, but he’d promised that I’d get to fulfill all my wildest fantasies tonight.

I take a moment to snap a mental picture of a vulnerable Street tied up beneath me, and it absolutely thrills me. I’ve been with bad boys in the past, but I’ve never felt comfortable enough with any of them to ask for control. I never believed they’d hand it over on a silver platter without mocking me, or resenting having some part of their masculinity ripped away from them.

Street’s handed the keys of control to me and I can’t help feeling like that’s because he knows what it’s like to have a piece of himself locked up. Maybe it’s for this reason he seems to understand me so well. Because he sensed my yearning to be loose of my mundane existence and grab at freedom and adventure with greedy hands.

I can be confident and hesitant at the same time, and that’s exactly how I am as I fiddle with the ties around his wrists once more, and briefly think about removing them.

But that would just be me being the same old Katie I’ve always been, and I think
this
Katie
,
the Katie I am right now in this room, is a better version of myself.

I make sure the knots are tied strong enough so that they won’t break when he eventually begins to grunt, when the insatiable need to touch me rushes through his body. He’ll fight to free himself if for no other reason than to turn me onto my hands and knees and rail me from behind.

But he won’t be able to.

I glide down his long torso, leaving a trail of wetness as I inch closer to his cock. He throws me a sideways glance when I begin to plant short kisses along his thigh, completely bypassing his cock as I head further south until I’m at his feet.

He looks at me with disapproving, apprehensive eyes as I retrieve a third and fourth pillow case and begin to tie his feet to the bedposts at the bottom of the bed, wiggling my ass for full effect.

“Oh come on, Katie,” he cries out, but it’s not much of a serious cry. “You’re killing me.”

“That’s the point.” I finish tying the last tie. “The point is to make you scream because you think you’re dying. Only I’ll be killing you with pleasure.”

* * *

Street

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Really.

Truly.

Seriously.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

I was all for fulfilling Katie’s fantasy, but being tied up is all too similar to being locked up. I’m having flashbacks to prison, and begin to panic until I see her rise to her feet, with her toes sinking into the mattress.

Her hands tug at her panties. She slides them down her smooth, hairless legs and steps out of them before tossing them to the floor beside the bed. My cock jumps against my stomach and I try to free my hands from the ties around my wrists, but it’s no use.

“I want you to watch me, Street.”

“That’s not a problem.” I force a grin that breaks far too quickly when she reaches for the straps of her dress and pulls them down her shoulders. It’s a slow, careful tease and I find myself fighting to breathe. She slides the dress down over her breasts, exposing them in an instant.

They’re perky and taut, with nipples as hard as diamonds. Even under the low-light conditions of the hotel room, I’m able to make out the perfect pink pastel of her nipples. My mouth waters to taste them. To lick and bite her nipples.

She pulls the dress down over her thighs, exposing her tight, wanting pussy and I rip at the bedposts, trying to free myself with an aggressive vigor. Because I want to lick and bite her there, too. Fill her with my tongue, then my fingers, then my dick. “The things… I would do… if I weren’t tied up.”

“That’s also the point,” she whispers as she steps out of the dress entirely and drops to her knees so that she straddles me. For the first time since she brought out the ties, I’m met with the exhilarating sensation of flesh on flesh as she grinds her wet cunt against my cock. “Tell me, Street, how do you feel?”

“Hard as a rock.”

“You’re stating the obvious.” She bucks her hips against me. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

* * *

Katie

“You are the sexiest—” Street begins in a low murmur of a whisper, as if he’s trying to hold himself back, and refrain from coming against my exposed flesh. But I don’t wait for an answer, because I wasn’t looking for one. I was just waiting for a moment to catch him off guard before I finally take what I’ve been waiting for, and what he’s been dying for.

Quickly, I grab the small packet I’d placed on the nightstand, rip the package open, and roll the rubber on Street. The sounds he makes tell me my hands on him, even for the purpose of putting on the condom, are almost too much for him to take.

“Give me your tits,” he growls. “I want to suck your nipples.”

I’m done with the condom, but I ignore him, cupping my breasts and tweaking my nipples. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” he bites out between clenched teeth. He looks like a wild man, jaw clenching and nostrils flaring.

“You sure? What about this?” I lower one hand and circle my clit before inserting one then two fingers inside myself. I bite my lip and whimper because it feels so good, yet nowhere close to how Street will feel inside me.

He makes a tortured sound and bucks his hips so violently he almost knocks me off him. I lower the hand I used to penetrate myself on his chest for balance, and he stares at it.

“You want this?” I whisper. I paint fingers wet with my arousal lightly over his lips, just a feather light caress, and he immediately opens his mouth, trying to suck them in. I don’t let him and he glares at me.

“I’m going to make you pay for this,” he warns.

“Is that right?” I say, even though my increased heartbeat and shaky breaths tell both of us I take his threat very seriously. “Good thing I’m the one who’s in charge here. And I’m going to make you pay for saying that. I’m going to make you pay by…”

I adjust my position, then lower myself slowly—painfully slowly—onto his hard cock.

My mouth quivers as I adjust to his width, and his mouth quivers as he fights to hold back a scream. His breathing is husky and ragged as he fights against the ties.

Once he’s all the way in, and I’m filled to the hilt, I take a moment and just sit there with my eyes clenched shut. This is the best kind of burn. What happened in the front seat of my car seemed like a fluke, but I now know better.

We’re two candles burning together into an endless flame. We don’t have a conventional relationship, if we even have a relationship at all, but we burn hot.

It’s because we’re obsessed with each other in our own very different ways. The world doesn’t need to understand it.

I brace my hands against his chest, for both support and to feel his skin under my fingernails. He bucks his hips upwards, trying to force himself deeper even though we both know he’s as deep as he’s going to get.

“Fuck…” he moans. “Fucking move.”

I raise myself up, sliding up his cock until I can feel the head at my entrance and then slam back down with a quick bounce.

“Fuck,” he moans again, like a robot with only one command left. He’s about to short circuit, and I can’t have him finishing just yet.

But I’m also too lost in knowing that I’m in control to give him the satisfaction of a delayed release. It’s a feeling like no other—a feeling I’ve never truly experienced for myself. I’ve always been on the receiving end of power, and that’s okay at times, but I always found myself wanting more, and with Street, I’ve gotten that.

“Your fingers. Give me your fingers,” he pleads, and I immediately put my hand to his mouth. Quickly, he sucks the fingers I’d penetrated myself with into his mouth, and lavishes his tongue along them like he’s dying of thirst and I’m a dessert oasis. He groans and I momentarily lose my rhythm.

With a final lick, he pulls away. “Still feel like you’re the one in control?” he taunts.

I narrow my eyes and say, “Challenge accepted.”

Even in the heat of the moment, he smiles, obviously remembering when he said those same words to me after I handed him the bookstore application.

I close my eyes and quicken my pace as I ride him one thrust at a time. His cock pulls me from the inside out, testing my strength and my resolve to make this last as long as I desire it to. Street is often unpredictable. I can never be sure where I stand with him, and tomorrow this could all be nothing but a memory.

But still I ride. My eyes shift open, and I fight for them to stay open because there’s nothing sexier than the sight before me.

Street struggles against the ties around his hands and feet. With every thrust that comes and goes, his breathing—and the struggle to free himself—becomes more erratic.

Just when I can feel the quake building from within me, he rips free from the ties that hold him in place.

* * *

Street

Finally fucking free, I lunge forward and upward, nuzzling my face against her breasts. Then I suck her nipples one at time, and I’m not gentle about it, but that’s something she obviously likes because she buries her fingers in my hair and yanks me even closer. I take hold of her hips and drive into her. Harder. Deeper. Faster. Stronger. Once I hit the point of no return, I push her onto her back without pulling my cock out of her.

It’s been years since I’ve fucked a girl missionary—it’s too romantic for my liking, but with Katie, it fucking makes my nuts pull tight. She’s too taken by surprise to stop me, and it’s not like she would want to anyway.

I pound into her with no set pace. I’m just fucking her because I’ve never needed release this bad before. She moans and groans as her pussy swells against my swollen cock, and I know the exact moment she breaks as her hips shift wider, allowing me deeper access into her wet cunt.

She locks her legs behind the cheeks of my taut ass and throws her head back as she screams a wailing cry of release. That does the trick. I come, filling the condom with my warm seed after one last slam of my cock into her pussy. Pelvis to pelvis, I stay there as I fall onto her sweating, heaving breasts.

* * *

Katie

The seconds that immediately follow release are the quietest. Soon, however, everything comes barreling back to assault my senses. The sounds of the hustle and bustle of the city are muffled by the window as we lie in bed several stories above the street.

In the near distance is the faint ringing of an elevator door held open, and closer still, I can hear the slight humming of the ice machine from across the room. Mostly, I just hear Street’s hard breathing as his warm breath exhales upon the pillow beneath my head.

I stroke his slick, wet back with one palm. I know this is temporary, but I want to remember everything in the years to come. I hold on tighter to him, digging my fingers into his flesh.

I’d fantasized about being in control. I got my wish tenfold. But Street has a thing about turning tables; he’s the grand champion at it. And turn the tables he did as he swept my sense of dominance out from under me and made me his submissive again. We went through the entire spectrum, alternating between the two of us being in control, and in hindsight, maybe that was my ultimate fantasy.