Free Stray by Erin Lark Page B

inside of my legs, drawing them apart. I bit my lip, screwed my eyes shut as tightly as they could go. His touch was barely there, the heat from his skin constant as he moved his hands along my inner thighs.
    My clit throbbed, begging for his attention. I rolled to one side, then the other, lifting my hips away from the table. Dylan pressed an arm down on them, forcing me to stay still.
    “We’ll get to your needs,” he growled, repositioning my feet so that they were flat on the table, my knees as wide as they could go. “Don’t move.”
    He then tied a rope around one of my ankles, just as he’d done to my wrists. He kissed the inside of the bound leg before doing the same thing to the other one. Breathe. Remember to breathe. I chewed at my cheek, sucking in a breath when Dylan’s fingers slid into me.
    I arched my back away from the table, and Dylan made a sound of approval.
    “Good, the ropes will hold.”
    No shit. I bit back my frustration as he withdrew his fingers. He was teasing me. Playing with me. I’d lost my mind what felt like hours ago. Dylan dropped his hand onto the curve of my stomach.
    “Relax.”
    I swallowed hard. Hard enough for him to have heard it.
    With his hand on my stomach, Dylan leaned off to one side—possibly to grab something—straightening his posture moments later. Something screeched along the floor, which could’ve either been the chair I’d used to get on the table, or the smaller table moving closer towards me. I could’ve looked. I could’ve cracked an eye and taken a quick glance. But I didn’t.
    Below my feet there was a pop, followed by a slow hiss. Two hands swishing against one another.
    “Fuck.” The word slipped over my tongue as Dylan’s hands made contact with my skin.
    He laughed but didn’t deviate from his work. Time slowed as Dylan rubbed a thick foam between my legs, covering my hair, my clit, my entire pussy with warmth. Something was tingling, but I didn’t care. Each time his fingers crept past my clit, I sucked in a breath.
    By now, I knew that between my legs I was completely covered in shaving cream. Dylan didn’t let up, his fingers working against me each time I tried to move. The ropes held fast. There was nothing I could’ve done to stop him. Safe words. But I didn’t want him to stop. It was erotic, but without the sex. A tease. A promise. And I wanted more of it. So much more.
    Dylan’s hands stopped, lifting away from me. There was more swishing. Dylan drying off his hands. A click. Some swishing water. Wetting the razor. His hand fell against the inside of my right leg, making the skin taut. Dylan didn’t budge after that. He didn’t say a word. And when my world filled with the beat of my own heart, the razor swept over me.
    He started where my pubic hair began, working his way down, avoiding all contact with my clit. My pussy lips. Dylan gently glided the razor down my thigh, water that was almost hot dripping down my skin and onto the table.
    Dylan cleaned the blade.
    Swishing water.
    He let out a breath, cool on my skin.
    H touched the razor to my skin again, continuing his path along the inside of my hip as he gently stretched the skin that was there, careful not to nick any of it. Hot water pulling my focus away from my clit. Away from how close Dylan’s hands actually were. The dance of hot and cold continued. Once he’d finished shaving the inside of one leg, he started to work on the other one. It felt as if an hour had passed, but the water he used to rinse the razor was still as warm as it had been when we had first begun.
    I hissed when his fingers drew even closer to my clit, the razor following the same path, removing the hair he found there. Hot water on my clit. Painful. Lovely. Comforting. I’d been bound and blind for so long, I couldn’t tell if what I felt was real, or if I was imagining it. Another swipe of the razor. More water. More hair gone.
    Lightheaded, I lay there, counting each time the blade came