Stranded by Noelle Stevens

when I begin pulling the pajamas downward, I gasp in surprise to see that he is naked underneath.
    He chuckles softly, and I feel my face redden.
    “It’s okay, Ashley,” he murmurs.
    Even though I try to ignore how big he is, the thought of him inside me nearly brings me to climax. I slide his pajamas off of his hips and throw them on the floor, then stroke his thighs. As much as I don’t want to beg for him to take me, my need for release is growing, and I hope that if I tease him enough, he’ll take the initiative. But as I touch him everywhere—purposely ignoring his impressive erection—he gazes at me impassively.
    On impulse, I pull my t-shirt over my head, so I’m only wearing my panties, and gaze down at him. His eyes leave my face and drift over my breasts, and I hope this will be enough to encourage him to take the next step. 
    His gaze goes back to my face and he smiles lazily. “Are you done?”
    I nod.
    “Lay down,” he commands.
    Without speaking, I do as he says, then I nearly hold my breath as I wait to see what he’s going to do next. To my delight, he reaches for my panties. His fingers brush against me.
    “You’re wet,” he says, his face serious.
    I don’t say anything, just watch him.
    His fingers slip inside my waistband, then slide inside me. “So ready,” he murmurs, his voice husky.
    There’s no hiding what I want and I move against his fingers.
    His gaze goes to my face. “So eager.”
    “Yes,” I whisper.
    His fingers move against my swollen clit and I feel the pressure building. He watches me and I can tell he’s enjoying my pleasure. I’m moving faster against his fingers, panting and ready to climax, when he withdraws his fingers. I expect him to take off my panties, but he just stares down at me.
    “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks.
    I couldn’t stop now even if I wanted to. But I don’t want to. “Yes.”
    His smile grows. “Good.” He leans down and presses his mouth to mine. My arms go around his neck and emotions race through me. This man is driving me insane with desire. He’s so damn hot, and I want him so bad, but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. It’s the sweetest torture.
    His tongue pushes into my mouth and I eagerly taste him. This only increases my need, and without consciously deciding to do so, I grab his shaft, urging him to enter me.
    He pulls away and looks down at me. “So greedy, Ashley.”
    “Please, Drake.” I need him inside me. Now.
    His lips slowly turn up into a smile. “Shhh. Not yet.”
    I’m having none of that and I grab for him again.
    He captures both of my wrists with one of his hands, then pins them above my head. With one eyebrow raised, he says, “I think I’m going to have to restrain you.”
    His words send a wave of desire cascading over me, and I almost lose it. 
    With my wrists held firmly in his grasp, he uses his free hand to pull the sash out of my robe, then he ties one end around my wrists and the other end to the wooden slats of his headboard, stretching my arms over my head.
    He grins at me. “That’s better.”
    I smile back. “Are you some kind of a control freak?”
    “Something like that.” His eyes graze my body, ending back at my face. “Now I can explore at my leisure.”
    I squirm, wanting his hands on me, but I can’t move my arms, and I gaze at him, wondering what he’s going to do next.
    “I’ll be right back,” he says, then he climbs off the bed. He smiles down at me. “Don’t go anywhere.”
    He leaves the bedroom and I feel bereft to have him gone. I hear him walking down the stairs and wonder what he’s doing. A moment later I hear him walking back, and when he enters the bedroom, he has the can of whipped cream in his hands. Grinning, he walks toward me and shakes the can. “I told you I’m a whipped cream man.”
    “What are you going to do with it?”
    He climbs on the bed. “This.” He sprays a generous helping onto each breast.
    It’s cold and my