‘Fuck,’ I half shout, my brain fuddled.
His face appears in front of mine. He checks my makeshift necklace, giving me a little time to recover.
‘How are we feeling?’
‘A little ropey.’
With a laugh, he lies back by my side.
‘How much more can you take?’
‘Plenty,’ I lie.
‘Well, in that case, I might keep you here all day.’
Propping his head on one hand, he traces a finger across my breasts, over the rope, back onto my flesh, watching its slow progress in a lazy dream-like state. Vibrations permeate every part of me, muscles, nerves, sinews – and I wriggle under his touch. He stops at my right nipple, circling it for an age before leaning over again to suck. I buck, raise my hands, whimper at the flood of warmth between my legs. He sucks harder. I tug again. Whirlpools of pleasure spring into life, congregating into one, and I come, crying out, rolling onto my side and curling into a ball. Gently, very gently, he urges me back into position.
‘Think how much more intense this can get,’ he smooths my hair, ‘if I bind your legs to the bed.’
Again, I can’t answer. I’m focussing too hard on bringing myself back under control. Before I know it, he’s straddling me, kissing my stomach, this time moving further out to the sides, tracing his lips up my flanks, one at a time. And I’m back to struggling with my hands.
‘How do you feel?’
Seriously? He expects me to speak? While I’m flapping about in a delirious lather, floundering under a tide of coital ecstasy, losing myself in a full-on surge of sexual oblivion? I open my mouth, but nothing comes out of it, apart from yet another groan. I’ve broken into a sweat, and completely forgotten where I am … let alone how I got here. I’m stranded in the moment, in my own little universe, with Dan. He’s back at my legs now, sucking, kissing, nibbling, moving further down. Finally, arching himself above me, he takes the rope and pulls at it, over and over again, propelling me into another spin, a second orgasm.
‘Jesus,’ I scream. ‘No.’ I need to stop this. Because if I don’t, I’ll end up a husk of a woman. ‘Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee …’
The words spin into darkness, and everything stops. I curl back into a ball, shivering, shaking, riding through the spasms inside. And somehow, I’m aware of him, stroking my brow, raining soft kisses onto my forehead. When I finally manage to open my eyes, he’s smiling at me.
‘So, I take it we’re a fan of rope?’
‘God, yes.’
‘Jolly good.’
He sets about untying the knots, carefully loosening the rope and pulling it away. It doesn’t take long and as soon as I’m freed, I stretch out, completely satisfied.
‘I’m a wreck.’
‘Pull yourself together, woman.’ He moves between my legs. ‘Don’t get too comfortable. I’m only just warming up.’
Some tiny, half-forgotten voice of reason calls out from the back of my head. ‘Excuse me, but shouldn’t you tell him about the period thing, and the totally fucking up with the pill thing, and the possibly being with child thing?’ Lost in the mother of all sex fugs, I flick it to one side, deciding I just don’t need my conscience interfering right now. And I really don’t need reminding I’m a top-notch prat. If this all ends in prams and bottles and baby wipes, I’ve only got myself to blame.
He enters me slowly, his cock smoothing against the inside of my vagina. I can barely believe it when a wave of energy unfurls inside. I writhe in his arms, raise my backside off the bed and cry out in surprise when he thrusts suddenly, lunging all the way in, immediately triggering a third orgasm.
He doesn’t admonish me for my lack of control. Instead, he carries on, withdrawing and thrusting repeatedly, at full force. I reach up, grab hold of his biceps and dig my fingernails into his flesh, firing him up further. With his eyes fixed on mine, his lips clamped together, he keeps up the tempo, pounding through every single one of my convulsions.
‘God, no,’ I cry out.
‘God, yes.’
I thrust a hand into his hair, tugging at it with all my might, but not for long. He grabs my hand and pins it down with a vice-like grip, reminding me who’s in charge while he continues to drive into me at full force. The convulsions keep coming, along with a whole selection of strange noises from my mouth. A stifled moan, a squeak and a gurgle, and finally another of those long, ridiculous howls.
Fighting back a smile, he rams harder until at last, his lips part and I know he’s on the edge.
‘Fuck,’ he grates. ‘Fuck.’ His muscles tense and he thrusts a few last times, filling me with heat as he judders through an orgasm of his own. ‘Shit, Maya. That’s so fucking good.’
He collapses on top of me.
‘But I howled again.’ I gulp for air. ‘That’s not good. You’re turning me into a dog.’
He laughs into my neck.
‘Make any noises you like. I love them all.’
We lie together, sweaty and spent, totally entwined. Gradually, our heartbeats return to normal. Breathing takes on its usual rhythm. Minutes pass in contented silence before he raises himself on his elbows and kisses me, long and hard.
‘Do you know how much I love you?’ I ask.
‘If it’s as much as I love you, you’re in deep trouble.’
He’s right, you know, my conscience pipes up. You probably are, you mad bint. The sort of trouble that takes nine
