Free Deep Surrendering: Episode Four by Chelsea M. Cameron Page A

Fintasies.
    “I’m going to help you move back onto the bed,” he said, and lifted me up. Before he had me lie back, he cleared everything off the bed but piled the pillows up so my back was supported.
    “Put your arm up.” I did as I was told, and he wrapped what felt like the silky rope from the drawer around my wrist, pulling it and tying it to the bedpost. I didn’t need to see to know what he was going to do.
    Honestly, it freaked me out to be immobilized and blind. But that was what the safeword was for. I was almost glad I’d used it already so I knew he would take it seriously.
    “Test it. Is that too tight?” I pulled at my bond. I definitely couldn’t break it, but it wasn’t cutting off circulation or uncomfortable in any way.
    I shook my head and he repeated the process with my other hand before moving to my legs.
    And then I was spread out before him.
    “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this ever since I first saw you. You’re so beautiful, sweet Marisol. So goddamn beautiful. Part of me wants to tie you up and take you with me. Keep you in my room.” That wouldn’t be terrible. I’d get to see the world and be at his beck and call.
    He touched the bottom of my right foot and I flinched, pulling against the ropes. I hoped his bed was sturdy enough for this usage. Something told me he’d already made sure it was beforehand.
    “Ticklish, are you?” Sometimes. When I was touched in certain areas and wasn’t expecting it.
    He stroked my foot again, and I wiggled. He chuckled and then I heard his footsteps again. Something drizzled on my feet, and then his hands started massaging me, starting with my toes and working toward my heels. Damn, he had some talented fingers. Fin knew just the right spots to hit.
    Moving upward, he got to my ankles, then my calves. I started relaxing, feeling loose and languid. Then he moved to my thighs, and that woke me the hell up.
    But then he switched gears, straddling me and working on my arms and shoulders. He was hard, but didn’t seem to be in any rush. His silence was maddening. I wanted so much to grab him and kiss him like I had last night. This time, I couldn’t. I was powerless against him.
    I became aware of my own breathing. Of his breathing. Of the quiet in the room. The sensations of his hands rubbing and pressing against my muscles.
    “I can feel you opening up to me,” he finally said as he worked on my pectorals, at the tops of my breasts. My nipples were already hard, and the pressure and intensity between my legs had started as a slow build but was quickly consuming me.
    His hands left my skin, and a second later he pinched my nipples. Hard. I would have cried out, but he stopped the sound with his mouth on mine, his tongue driving past my lips. Slow time was over.
    The kiss ended, his mouth traveling down my chin, to my neck. He’d give me one tender kiss, followed by a little bite. It was cruel and erotic, and made me long to rip free from the restraints.
    Fin nipped and kissed his way down my torso, and he didn’t stop at my stomach. He went lower and lower, and then he kissed my core. My hips pushed into his mouth, and the bedposts creaked from the strain I put on them, tugging at the ropes.
    The pace slowed again, and he took his time, making sure everything between my legs was touched and teased by his mouth. My first climax came fast, but he didn’t stop there. He sucked on my clit, licking another orgasm out of me only minutes later. With the blindfold, everything was more powerful. More intense.
    Afterwards, I wondered if this was what a jellyfish felt like. Spineless, floating in an ocean of light and color.
    He crawled back up my body and placed himself at my entrance. I waited for him, but he teased my opening, making my hands clench and my hips reach for him.
    I’d gone from resting on clouds of pleasure to complete and total frustration.
    I couldn’t stop the little groan that escaped my mouth. That earned me a smack on the