I caught Ed looking at the bungee cord. I saw the near predatory look cross his face as we secured the bed my parents had given us in the back of his truck.

It was hot out, at least 95 in the sun, but a cold prickle raced up my neck and caused my scalp to tingle.

“Got it over there?” he asked, his voice level.

I tested the cord and nodded. “It won’t go anywhere.”

We walked hand in hand to the backyard to thank my parents and say good-bye, and then I followed him back to the truck. The entire time my mind raced, remembering that look on his face and wondering if I’d made it up.

He rested his big hand on my thigh the whole way home. His thumb made sweeping motions against the denim. Occasionally, he’d squeeze, and once he let his hand drift up high to the top of my leg but then dragged it back down toward my knee. By the time he pulled the truck into our driveway, my pussy was wet beneath my jeans and the heat I felt in my cunt was mirrored by the heat flaming my cheeks.

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m hot.”

“Oh, I’ll say.”

I snorted. “I mean it’s hot. So I’m hot.”

He raised an eyebrow as we circled to the bed of the truck. “I think you’re hot because you saw me playing with those bungee cords. And thinking about what we could do — what I’d do — made you hot.”

I shook my head, but his smile said we both knew I was lying.

We undid the cords, and he looped them up and stuck them in his pocket. Watching him do that made me shift from leg to leg, which was a mistake. Every motion made me more aware of my own arousal.

I reached for the bed frame, and he put his hand atop mine. “Let’s leave that for now.”

I blinked, my heart picking up its tempo.

“Why?”

“Because I think we need to say bon voyage to our old bed. In style… ” He patted his pocket, and instead of racing, my heart skipped a beat. I put a hand to my chest as if that could steady it.

“A single swipe of his tongue made my hips shoot up.”

“Ed — ”

His jaw went tight, and his eyes appeared to flash darker blue in the sunlight. “It wasn’t a request. It was an order.”

A small needy sigh escaped me, and I turned on my heels, feeling the sun beat down on my bare shoulders, and headed to the house. All the while my brain fixated on the loops of elastic cords in his pocket. And what he wanted to do with them. With me.

In our bedroom, he stood and stared at me before placing a fingertip to the shoulder strap of my tank. I immediately pulled the shirt off and dropped it on the floor. I didn’t need instructions. I knew how this worked. He touched my bra, and poof, I made it disappear. His fingertip dragged over the brass button on my jeans and I popped it, unzipped, and pushed them down before kicking them away. Next, he trailed his finger down the cleft of my sex through my thin cotton panties. I went to take them off, but Ed shook his head. He pushed them down himself, took my hand, and helped me step free.

“On the bed,” he said.

I dropped to the mattress and laid there trying to breathe.

“Pretty wrists together.”

I put my wrists together and clasped my hands. Ed began to wind the bungee cords around my wrists and up my lower arms. Not too tight, but not loose enough for me to escape. He moved me to the center of the bed. Put a pillow beneath my ass. And then left the room.

My arms started to ache to move, my heart hammering. I wanted to twist; I wanted to scratch my nose. I wanted to get up and find him. Which is exactly why he did what he did. The downtime, the limited ability to move. It made me anxious, but it also made me wet.

The sounds of him puttering in the kitchen were maddening. He was making a drink. Or a fucking sandwich. Something. When he finally walked back in the room, I was chewing the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming for him.

Ed took one look at my face and gave me a wry half smile. He moved toward me and then over me, dipping two fingers into my cunt. “Wet,” he said. His hand then moved to press against my breast above my heart. “Fast.”

I just stared at him, my teeth worrying my lower lip.

“And you did well. No panic and no meltdown like the first time. You know, I love to see you wrapped up like a gorgeous present.” He lowered his face to my belly and swept his tongue across it so that the muscles rustled from the stimulation.

“I think that deserves a reward,” he murmured, his mouth tracking a hot line down my inner thigh. When he settled on my clit, my breath caught. The waiting, the worrying, all the fighting of my own nature had put me in a place where a single swipe of his tongue made my hips shoot up.

He abandoned my clit and worked me with his tongue, knowing every place to lap, to nudge. My hands warred with each other, bound together as they were, and I was unable to reach out and thread my fingers through his hair the way I wanted. I was at his mercy, and he made it known by teasing me and changing his rhythm. Swiping his tongue around my outer lips and avoiding my clitoris.

“Please,” I said. “Ed, please… ”

He took mercy on me with a grunt. The grunt said he was turned on beyond the point of patience. He pushed his broad fingers inside me, curling them against my G-spot. His mouth worked me, tongue teasing my button, and I raised my hips, thrashing my bound arms.

I came with a fierce cry, and he continued to lap at me. My body danced in response to the stimulation of overly sensitive flesh.

“Stay still,” he ordered, his voice gruff and deep.

I stilled myself as he continued to lick me. I held my breath to focus on what he was doing. I was aware when slight discomfort turned swiftly to sweet, freshly bloomed pleasure.

“Good girl.” He smiled up at me from between my legs.

My breath came out in a rush. He went back to my clit, taking his time, until I gave him what he wanted: another orgasm that bent my body like bamboo in high wind.

He didn’t speak; he simply flipped me over on my belly, rearranged the pillow and pushed into me roughly. “I like that you can’t touch me,” he said, thrusting deep.

I moaned, my bungee-cord-wrapped arms trapped beneath me. My pulse pounded in my throat, my temples, and my poor bound limbs.

But his cock going in and out of me. His words. They all shut down the panic and brightened the surrender. I became supremely aware of my cunt. The rush of sensations, the wetness, the tightness, and his body driving into mine over and over again.

“I love when I can just take you. When you’re at my mercy. When I can flip you and bend you and fuck you however I want.” All the words came out in his intense, rasping rumble of a voice.

Goose bumps spread across my back and made me shiver. His hands held my hips and my face smashed against the pillow. My breath was a harsh thing.

He worked a wet finger into my ass, and I jolted. He chuckled and pushed it a bit deeper. His cock slid in and out of me, his finger mimicking the motion in my asshole. My hands were pinned beneath my hips, and every thrust drove my clit against them. The friction overtook my senses. The manhandling and the fucking and the finger in my ass. I grew tight around him, and he noticed, hissing slightly.

“‘I like that you can’t touch me,’ He said, thrusting deep.”

“You can come when I say. Not until.”

And then I was nodding. Nodding stupidly and mindlessly at his instructions, and I struggled to hold on. One finger in my ass became two, and the feeling of impossible fullness increased.

“Such a pretty ass,” he whispered, pushing them deep inside me.

I gasped at the sensations he caused.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he added, pushing into me roughly so my hair whispered against the pillow.

“So pretty when she’s all wrapped up,” he said, his breath hot on my back.

I whimpered, a wordless warning that I was struggling. I only allowed myself to do it because my efforts turned him on. Turned him on to the point that he’d show mercy and let me get off.

It worked. He pulled his fingers from my back hole and gripped my hips, moving into me with desperation. When he groaned, deep and long, I almost lost it, but I waited. Waited for the magical words.

They arrived. “Come with me.” His fingers bit deeper into my skin, and when he slammed into me, coming with a harsh gasp, I catapulted right after him. Falling down into the rush of pleasure and grasping my hands together restlessly.

He flipped me to my back and smiled down at me. “I’ll take those cords off in a minute. But admit it, that’s a hell of a way to retire a bed.”

I nodded, wondering briefly how we’d decide to christen the new one. It would no doubt be just as amazing.

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