they were busy. And once DeVon and I got back to our hotel, I intended to be just as busy.
Chapter Two
Krissy
“You packed the handcuffs?” I raised an eyebrow. I wasn't sure why I was surprised. I'd been on several trips with DeVon in the time we'd been together and he believed in the Boy Scout motto of always being prepared. I just doubted whoever had come up with that motto had been thinking of sex toys at the time.
DeVon and I had been all over each other from the moment we'd gotten into the town car Gavin had commissioned for us for the weekend. Before we'd gone more than a couple yards, DeVon'd had me stretched out on the seat and was pulling off my panties. I'd spared a moment to glance at the tinted window between us and the driver, but then DeVon had pushed my legs up so that my feet were flat on the seat – or at least as flat as they could be in heels – and I'd known what had been coming next.
“Shh,” DeVon had cautioned. “I don't know how soundproofed it is back here.”
I'd considered glaring at him, but then he'd pressed his mouth against the inside of my thigh, sucking and nipping at the tender skin there until I'd been fighting back moans. The first time he'd ever marked me, it had been in that same spot, a place where no one from work would've been able to see it since Mirage'd had strict no-fraternization policies at the time. Things had changed since DeVon and I had started dating.
“I wonder how many times I can make you come before we get to the hotel?” he'd asked just before burying his face between my legs.
Thanks to some traffic, the answer had turned out to be three times. Before I'd met DeVon, that would've been a record for a whole night with a lover. Since we'd gotten together, the four orgasms I'd had so far tonight had become about average. And I'd gotten the impression that tonight wasn't going to be average.
He'd had to help me walk into the hotel and I'd been pretty sure the people we'd passed had thought I was drunk. I hadn't cared what they thought, as long as they hadn't realized that my panties had been in DeVon's pocket and that, despite DeVon's very attentive tongue, the insides of my thighs had been wet.
Now, we were in our room, standing next to our king-sized bed, and DeVon was holding up a pair of handcuffs and giving me that wicked grin of his that said I was going to be sore tomorrow. I held out my hands in the universal sign for 'cuff me, Officer. I've been naughty.'
“Strip.” His voice held that authoritative note that had always twisted something inside me.
First went the shoes. Then, I grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head in one quick gesture, leaving me in just a strapless bra, the same white lace as the panties in his pocket. I gave him a moment to appreciate the view and then tossed the bra on the floor too. With a sly grin, I ran my hands up my sides and cupped my breasts. They weren't overly large, but they weren't small either, just a bit above average. DeVon's eyes narrowed as I caressed my breasts, my fingers making circles around my nipples until they hardened into little bullet points.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?” He took a step towards me and I shivered in anticipation.
When I'd first met DeVon, I'd thought he'd been a control freak, wanting nothing more than to boss women around into pleasuring him. I'd ended up realizing that hadn't been the case. He enjoyed domination and I definitely enjoyed submitting to him, but what made us work was that I wasn't the traditional definition of a Sub. Not in the BDSM world. I liked pushing back...and he liked it when I did. What made us so good for each other was that we understood the other's needs and knew exactly how to fill them.
“No, Sir.” I gave my nipples a light pinch and watched DeVon's eyes darken to almost black.
He reached out and took one of my wrists. Cool metal brushed my skin as he clicked one side of the handcuffs into place. Immediately, I knew
Chapter Two
Krissy
“You packed the handcuffs?” I raised an eyebrow. I wasn't sure why I was surprised. I'd been on several trips with DeVon in the time we'd been together and he believed in the Boy Scout motto of always being prepared. I just doubted whoever had come up with that motto had been thinking of sex toys at the time.
DeVon and I had been all over each other from the moment we'd gotten into the town car Gavin had commissioned for us for the weekend. Before we'd gone more than a couple yards, DeVon'd had me stretched out on the seat and was pulling off my panties. I'd spared a moment to glance at the tinted window between us and the driver, but then DeVon had pushed my legs up so that my feet were flat on the seat – or at least as flat as they could be in heels – and I'd known what had been coming next.
“Shh,” DeVon had cautioned. “I don't know how soundproofed it is back here.”
I'd considered glaring at him, but then he'd pressed his mouth against the inside of my thigh, sucking and nipping at the tender skin there until I'd been fighting back moans. The first time he'd ever marked me, it had been in that same spot, a place where no one from work would've been able to see it since Mirage'd had strict no-fraternization policies at the time. Things had changed since DeVon and I had started dating.
“I wonder how many times I can make you come before we get to the hotel?” he'd asked just before burying his face between my legs.
Thanks to some traffic, the answer had turned out to be three times. Before I'd met DeVon, that would've been a record for a whole night with a lover. Since we'd gotten together, the four orgasms I'd had so far tonight had become about average. And I'd gotten the impression that tonight wasn't going to be average.
He'd had to help me walk into the hotel and I'd been pretty sure the people we'd passed had thought I was drunk. I hadn't cared what they thought, as long as they hadn't realized that my panties had been in DeVon's pocket and that, despite DeVon's very attentive tongue, the insides of my thighs had been wet.
Now, we were in our room, standing next to our king-sized bed, and DeVon was holding up a pair of handcuffs and giving me that wicked grin of his that said I was going to be sore tomorrow. I held out my hands in the universal sign for 'cuff me, Officer. I've been naughty.'
“Strip.” His voice held that authoritative note that had always twisted something inside me.
First went the shoes. Then, I grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head in one quick gesture, leaving me in just a strapless bra, the same white lace as the panties in his pocket. I gave him a moment to appreciate the view and then tossed the bra on the floor too. With a sly grin, I ran my hands up my sides and cupped my breasts. They weren't overly large, but they weren't small either, just a bit above average. DeVon's eyes narrowed as I caressed my breasts, my fingers making circles around my nipples until they hardened into little bullet points.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?” He took a step towards me and I shivered in anticipation.
When I'd first met DeVon, I'd thought he'd been a control freak, wanting nothing more than to boss women around into pleasuring him. I'd ended up realizing that hadn't been the case. He enjoyed domination and I definitely enjoyed submitting to him, but what made us work was that I wasn't the traditional definition of a Sub. Not in the BDSM world. I liked pushing back...and he liked it when I did. What made us so good for each other was that we understood the other's needs and knew exactly how to fill them.
“No, Sir.” I gave my nipples a light pinch and watched DeVon's eyes darken to almost black.
He reached out and took one of my wrists. Cool metal brushed my skin as he clicked one side of the handcuffs into place. Immediately, I knew
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