Black Light: Suspended
Excerpt By Maggie Ryan
Available at: Amazon (and on Kindle Unlimited!)
“Do you know what shibari means?”
“Um, binding with rope ...Sir?”
“No, but most people believe that to be true. Actually, Kinbaku is the correct word. It is Japanese, meaning the art of binding, using rope. Kinbaku-ki, is the word used to describe the bondage art. But the word shibari actually reflects what you said earlier. Shibari translates to mean intricately tie.”
He draped the ropes around his neck, loving the fact that her eyes lifted to watch every move. Stepping forward, he said, “Turn around.” Once she had, he slowly unzipped her dress, placing kisses along her spine as the dress parted. He slid the fabric from her shoulders, kissing each one and causing her to give those delightful little mews each time he gave her skin a little nip, his tongue quickly soothing the slight pain. He allowed the dress to slip to the floor where it pooled at her feet.
“Beautiful,” he said softly. His heart skipped a beat as he looked at her, so perfect, so trusting. He’d played before but never once had felt this way. Leaving Texas had been hard... not because he didn’t want to return to his own home, but because he’d left without knowing more about this woman. And now? Charlie’s very presence, her appearing from nowhere, had his blood racing through his veins, his breath catching in his throat. He could stare at her all day and yet couldn’t resist the absolute need to touch her again. Still standing behind her, but moving closer to wrap his arms around her, pressing his body into hers. His thumbs again found her nipples, which were attempting to poke through the fabric of her bra. When she leaned her head back against him, her eyes closing, he bent to kiss her cheek. With a flick, he released the front closure of her bra, the cups parting, allowing her breasts to spill into his hands. They were perfect, round and soft, each pillow topped by a puckered nipple that reminded him of ripe raspberries. He traced her areolas, looking over her shoulder, watching as her flesh pebbled into goose bumps. When he lifted his fingers, she moaned, arching up as if to find his hands again.
Long lashes laid against her skin, fluttering slightly. “Open your eyes,” he said, waiting until her eyelids fluttered and opened.
Little flecks of gold seemed to float in the emerald depths. “Now your mouth,” he ordered. She hesitated but obeyed, her lips parting. “Good girl,” he said, bringing his index fingers to her mouth. Giving his next order to suck, he slid his fingers into her mouth.
The feel of her tongue swirling around his flesh, the sight of her cheeks hollowing in and out as she suckled, had his cock demanding it take his fingers’ place. “Release,” he said, and when she did, he returned his fingers to her breasts, this time placing his wet fingertips directly on her nipples.
She gasped, and arched again, her saliva transferred to her skin combined with his touch causing her nipples to tighten further.
His thumbs joined his fingers, plucking and pinching until she was trembling. Releasing her only long enough to turn her to face him, he bent to take a nipple into his mouth, his tongue adding moisture as it flicked and played over the taut bud. He suckled hard until she moaned, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders.
After giving her second breast the same attention, he straightened and removed her bra completely.
“Beautiful,” he repeated as she stood in nothing but her panties, her stockings, and her shoes. He realized that her eyes had darted from his, returning but not meeting his gaze. A glance told him that a small group had gathered. Speaking softly, he asked, “Color?”
“Gr- green... yellow-green, Sir.”
“Do you want a blindfold?” He wasn’t going to give her the option of changing her mind about their location, but he had no problem offering her a chance to not have to see anyone witnessing their play.
“No...no, Sir.”
“Just keep your eyes on me, Charlie. No one else exists but the two of us.” She nodded, her eyes meeting his. “Good girl. Put your arms out, palms together.” When her arms extended, he pulled the first rope from around his neck. “Splay your fingers.” Once she had, he began, not starting with either end, instead, found the center of the rope and began to weave the ends between her fingers. He went slowly, pleased when her attention remained on what he was doing, watching each movement of the rope ends as they wove in and around each other. He continued wrapping the ropes around her wrists, adding intricate knots every few turns of the ropes.
“They look like flower buds,” she said softly, a smile on her lips.
“White rosebuds for my little yellow Rose,” he said, bending to kiss a rope flower before continuing. “This is a basic corset pattern.” He continued to work and then said, “Do you own a corset?”
“No, Sir.”
“We’ll correct that soon,” he said, loving the flush that stained her cheeks and the quick flick of her eyes to his before dropping back to where his hands continued to bind her. At her elbows, he added a knot at each bend when he added another length of rope.
“Shibari isn’t meant to take away your freedom. When we do a full session, you’ll discover that being bound so completely, will give you an incredible sense of peace, the liberty just to be. For now, let it assure you that we are bound by the very art. Lift your arms.”
She obeyed and he used the next length of rope to secure her arms to a chain that descended from the ceiling. “Color?” he asked.
“Green, Sir,” she answered instantly.
With her arms secure, he ran his hands down her sides, his thumbs stroking her flesh as he bent to kiss her, loving the fact that she arched into him and loving it even more when he felt her shudder as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of the white lace panties. He slowly peeled them down, her arousal evident by the soaked gusset and her scent filling his nostrils. She was bare, but he still needed to see more. “Step out.” When she did, he moved the pile of clothing to one side and then said. “Spread your legs.”
The next rope was used to form a ladder pattern from her knee to her ankle before being secured to a ring in the floor. Once both legs were secure, he knew the crowd most likely expected him to choose an implement to use. He had other plans and could no longer deny the need to taste her. Kneeling before her, he cupped her ass in his hands and brought her to his mouth. She shuddered with the first flick of his tongue though it was the lightest of touches. He continued to lick, to tease, never going near her clit which was already out of its hood, trembling with need. She was soaking wet, every drop taken into his mouth tasting of the finest ambrosia as he used every lick, every taste, every mew and shudder to imprint this woman on his heart. It didn’t take long before her small mews turned to pleas.
“Please... oh, please... may I come... please, Dillon!”
Her soft request, the absolute need in her voice, had his heart skipping again. She hadn’t addressed him as “Sir” and yet that didn’t matter. The only thing he cared about was the desire to pleasure her, to drive her insane with need, to erase Sorenson and the memories of that night, to replace them with memories she’d treasure.
“Yes, come as often and whenever you want,” he granted, finally grazing her clit with his teeth before sucking it into his mouth and giving it a small bite.
She tasted better than he’d even dreamed she would in the months he’d admired her in Texas.
“Oh, God!” she shouted, her body jerking as she came. He continued to flick his tongue across the bundle of nerves, alternating with suckling. Removing his hands from her ass, he spread the petals of her vulva open, exposing the soft, pink inner lips of her cunt. Sliding his tongue inside, a fraction of an inch at a time, she was soon begging.
“More... oh, please...more...”
“Such a greedy girl,” he teased, removing his mouth and loving her whine of loss and then her gasp of pleasure as he replaced his tongue with two fingers. “So tight. God, I can’t wait to feel your cunt hugging my cock.”
“Yes!” she shouted.
He grinned, enjoying every moment watching one of the most in control people he’d ever met coming apart. “Yes, what?”
“Please, Dillon... please fuck me!”
He didn’t have to be asked twice. Removing his fingers, he bent forward and took a last, long, slow lick before standing. She was shuddering, her nipples as hard as diamonds, her eyes locked on his hands as he unfastened his pants and allowed his erection to spring free. Grabbing a condom from a bowl, he ripped it open and rolled it over his cock.
“Oh my God,” she groaned. “You’ll... you’ll never fit.”
“Believe me, I will fit just fine,” Dillon countered, quickly releasing the knots that kept her feet bound to the rings. Moving in front of her, he lifted her, positioning his cock at her entrance. “Every single inch will be buried in your sweet heat.”
She moaned as he began to impale her, and though he wanted to bury himself balls deep in one thrust, he knew she needed the time to stretch, to relax, to accept his girth.
“God, you make the sweetest sounds,” he said, pushing in another inch, and then another. She moaned, shook her head, and yet she never asked him to slow. Her flesh clenched around him, and yet her copious amounts of cream eased his entrance. Finally, when his balls were nestled against her pussy, he bent forward.
“Let go. The only one biting that lip is me.” She released her lip and he took her mouth as he began to move. She was so incredibly tight and so amazingly responsive. Her nipples rubbing against his t-shirt had him wishing he’d taken the time to remove it, wanting to feel her breasts against his chest. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her soft moans and cries were music to his ears. It was far too soon when he felt his balls tightening.
“Come for me,” he demanded as he lifted his mouth from hers.
“Come with me!”
He tilted her slightly, going deeper, the slap of his hips against her body adding notes to their song until, with a cry, she sang her pleasure and he roared his as they found their release at the same instant.
“Um, binding with rope ...Sir?”
“No, but most people believe that to be true. Actually, Kinbaku is the correct word. It is Japanese, meaning the art of binding, using rope. Kinbaku-ki, is the word used to describe the bondage art. But the word shibari actually reflects what you said earlier. Shibari translates to mean intricately tie.”
He draped the ropes around his neck, loving the fact that her eyes lifted to watch every move. Stepping forward, he said, “Turn around.” Once she had, he slowly unzipped her dress, placing kisses along her spine as the dress parted. He slid the fabric from her shoulders, kissing each one and causing her to give those delightful little mews each time he gave her skin a little nip, his tongue quickly soothing the slight pain. He allowed the dress to slip to the floor where it pooled at her feet.
“Beautiful,” he said softly. His heart skipped a beat as he looked at her, so perfect, so trusting. He’d played before but never once had felt this way. Leaving Texas had been hard... not because he didn’t want to return to his own home, but because he’d left without knowing more about this woman. And now? Charlie’s very presence, her appearing from nowhere, had his blood racing through his veins, his breath catching in his throat. He could stare at her all day and yet couldn’t resist the absolute need to touch her again. Still standing behind her, but moving closer to wrap his arms around her, pressing his body into hers. His thumbs again found her nipples, which were attempting to poke through the fabric of her bra. When she leaned her head back against him, her eyes closing, he bent to kiss her cheek. With a flick, he released the front closure of her bra, the cups parting, allowing her breasts to spill into his hands. They were perfect, round and soft, each pillow topped by a puckered nipple that reminded him of ripe raspberries. He traced her areolas, looking over her shoulder, watching as her flesh pebbled into goose bumps. When he lifted his fingers, she moaned, arching up as if to find his hands again.
Long lashes laid against her skin, fluttering slightly. “Open your eyes,” he said, waiting until her eyelids fluttered and opened.
Little flecks of gold seemed to float in the emerald depths. “Now your mouth,” he ordered. She hesitated but obeyed, her lips parting. “Good girl,” he said, bringing his index fingers to her mouth. Giving his next order to suck, he slid his fingers into her mouth.
The feel of her tongue swirling around his flesh, the sight of her cheeks hollowing in and out as she suckled, had his cock demanding it take his fingers’ place. “Release,” he said, and when she did, he returned his fingers to her breasts, this time placing his wet fingertips directly on her nipples.
She gasped, and arched again, her saliva transferred to her skin combined with his touch causing her nipples to tighten further.
His thumbs joined his fingers, plucking and pinching until she was trembling. Releasing her only long enough to turn her to face him, he bent to take a nipple into his mouth, his tongue adding moisture as it flicked and played over the taut bud. He suckled hard until she moaned, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders.
After giving her second breast the same attention, he straightened and removed her bra completely.
“Beautiful,” he repeated as she stood in nothing but her panties, her stockings, and her shoes. He realized that her eyes had darted from his, returning but not meeting his gaze. A glance told him that a small group had gathered. Speaking softly, he asked, “Color?”
“Gr- green... yellow-green, Sir.”
“Do you want a blindfold?” He wasn’t going to give her the option of changing her mind about their location, but he had no problem offering her a chance to not have to see anyone witnessing their play.
“No...no, Sir.”
“Just keep your eyes on me, Charlie. No one else exists but the two of us.” She nodded, her eyes meeting his. “Good girl. Put your arms out, palms together.” When her arms extended, he pulled the first rope from around his neck. “Splay your fingers.” Once she had, he began, not starting with either end, instead, found the center of the rope and began to weave the ends between her fingers. He went slowly, pleased when her attention remained on what he was doing, watching each movement of the rope ends as they wove in and around each other. He continued wrapping the ropes around her wrists, adding intricate knots every few turns of the ropes.
“They look like flower buds,” she said softly, a smile on her lips.
“White rosebuds for my little yellow Rose,” he said, bending to kiss a rope flower before continuing. “This is a basic corset pattern.” He continued to work and then said, “Do you own a corset?”
“No, Sir.”
“We’ll correct that soon,” he said, loving the flush that stained her cheeks and the quick flick of her eyes to his before dropping back to where his hands continued to bind her. At her elbows, he added a knot at each bend when he added another length of rope.
“Shibari isn’t meant to take away your freedom. When we do a full session, you’ll discover that being bound so completely, will give you an incredible sense of peace, the liberty just to be. For now, let it assure you that we are bound by the very art. Lift your arms.”
She obeyed and he used the next length of rope to secure her arms to a chain that descended from the ceiling. “Color?” he asked.
“Green, Sir,” she answered instantly.
With her arms secure, he ran his hands down her sides, his thumbs stroking her flesh as he bent to kiss her, loving the fact that she arched into him and loving it even more when he felt her shudder as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of the white lace panties. He slowly peeled them down, her arousal evident by the soaked gusset and her scent filling his nostrils. She was bare, but he still needed to see more. “Step out.” When she did, he moved the pile of clothing to one side and then said. “Spread your legs.”
The next rope was used to form a ladder pattern from her knee to her ankle before being secured to a ring in the floor. Once both legs were secure, he knew the crowd most likely expected him to choose an implement to use. He had other plans and could no longer deny the need to taste her. Kneeling before her, he cupped her ass in his hands and brought her to his mouth. She shuddered with the first flick of his tongue though it was the lightest of touches. He continued to lick, to tease, never going near her clit which was already out of its hood, trembling with need. She was soaking wet, every drop taken into his mouth tasting of the finest ambrosia as he used every lick, every taste, every mew and shudder to imprint this woman on his heart. It didn’t take long before her small mews turned to pleas.
“Please... oh, please... may I come... please, Dillon!”
Her soft request, the absolute need in her voice, had his heart skipping again. She hadn’t addressed him as “Sir” and yet that didn’t matter. The only thing he cared about was the desire to pleasure her, to drive her insane with need, to erase Sorenson and the memories of that night, to replace them with memories she’d treasure.
“Yes, come as often and whenever you want,” he granted, finally grazing her clit with his teeth before sucking it into his mouth and giving it a small bite.
She tasted better than he’d even dreamed she would in the months he’d admired her in Texas.
“Oh, God!” she shouted, her body jerking as she came. He continued to flick his tongue across the bundle of nerves, alternating with suckling. Removing his hands from her ass, he spread the petals of her vulva open, exposing the soft, pink inner lips of her cunt. Sliding his tongue inside, a fraction of an inch at a time, she was soon begging.
“More... oh, please...more...”
“Such a greedy girl,” he teased, removing his mouth and loving her whine of loss and then her gasp of pleasure as he replaced his tongue with two fingers. “So tight. God, I can’t wait to feel your cunt hugging my cock.”
“Yes!” she shouted.
He grinned, enjoying every moment watching one of the most in control people he’d ever met coming apart. “Yes, what?”
“Please, Dillon... please fuck me!”
He didn’t have to be asked twice. Removing his fingers, he bent forward and took a last, long, slow lick before standing. She was shuddering, her nipples as hard as diamonds, her eyes locked on his hands as he unfastened his pants and allowed his erection to spring free. Grabbing a condom from a bowl, he ripped it open and rolled it over his cock.
“Oh my God,” she groaned. “You’ll... you’ll never fit.”
“Believe me, I will fit just fine,” Dillon countered, quickly releasing the knots that kept her feet bound to the rings. Moving in front of her, he lifted her, positioning his cock at her entrance. “Every single inch will be buried in your sweet heat.”
She moaned as he began to impale her, and though he wanted to bury himself balls deep in one thrust, he knew she needed the time to stretch, to relax, to accept his girth.
“God, you make the sweetest sounds,” he said, pushing in another inch, and then another. She moaned, shook her head, and yet she never asked him to slow. Her flesh clenched around him, and yet her copious amounts of cream eased his entrance. Finally, when his balls were nestled against her pussy, he bent forward.
“Let go. The only one biting that lip is me.” She released her lip and he took her mouth as he began to move. She was so incredibly tight and so amazingly responsive. Her nipples rubbing against his t-shirt had him wishing he’d taken the time to remove it, wanting to feel her breasts against his chest. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her soft moans and cries were music to his ears. It was far too soon when he felt his balls tightening.
“Come for me,” he demanded as he lifted his mouth from hers.
“Come with me!”
He tilted her slightly, going deeper, the slap of his hips against her body adding notes to their song until, with a cry, she sang her pleasure and he roared his as they found their release at the same instant.