Chapter 2: The Plan Unfolds (Continued)

I could see it in his eyes, the way he’d been planning. Every time I teased him about my fantasy—about wanting to be kidnapped, wanting to be taken—he’d gotten that wicked gleam. A little playful, a lot determined. I knew Chad was the kind of man who didn’t just talk; he did.

When I saw the duffel bag by the door, I knew he’d taken this seriously.

The Preparation

Chad:
I know what you’re craving, Jess. And I came prepared.

He said it with that slow grin of his, the one that made me melt every time. I watched as he opened the bag, revealing a collection of deliciously wicked things: coils of soft rope, sturdy leather cuffs, a blindfold that looked well-used but well-loved. And then—God—he pulled out a little black box that buzzed at his touch, a remote-controlled vibrator he could manage from his phone.

Me:
(heart racing)
Oh my God. You weren’t kidding, were you?

Chad:
(voice low, teasing)
Baby, when I kidnap you, you’re gonna know it.

He pulled out a pair of AirPods, already paired to his phone. He cupped my face, so sweet and gentle, brushing his thumb across my cheek like he was soothing me before the storm.

Chad:
Gotta make sure you can’t see or hear—so every touch, every stroke is a surprise. That’s how it works, right?

Me:
(breathless)
That’s exactly how it works.

The Country Music

He leaned in, pressing the AirPods into my ears. The opening notes of “Worst Way” spilled in, the bass line thrumming deep and low, vibrating through me. My breath hitched. My world shrank down to the music, the rhythm of my heartbeat, and the feel of his hands.

Chad:
Now, let’s make sure you’re all mine.

The blindfold slid over my eyes, plunging me into darkness. I felt his breath on my neck, his hands trailing down my arms, his fingers grazing the sensitive spots that made me shiver. My senses stretched taut, every sound from outside muffled by the music, every movement feeling like it might be my last.

Here’s a revised version from Jess’s perspective, with the scene focused on the bed, leaving out the food items for now and focusing on Chad’s touch, his hands, and his tongue:

I hadn’t even unpacked before Chad set the tone for the weekend, the two of us sprawled across the edge of his bed, the smell of weed thick in the air. The glass bowl passed between us, smoke curling around us like a promise. I’d barely finished exhaling before he leaned in, his eyes dark and hungry, that grin that always made me weak.

I was wearing nothing but an old t-shirt that hung off my shoulder and my favorite pair of lacy underwear—my attempt at looking casual, even though my heart was racing like crazy. The t-shirt brushed my thighs just enough to tease, and judging by the way his gaze dropped to my legs, it was working.

“Ready to give yourself to me this weekend, darlin’?” he asked, voice thick with anticipation.

I grinned, the weed making everything soft and delicious. “Yeah,” I breathed. “I’m all yours.”

His smile turned predatory. I watched him stand and walk to his duffel bag at the foot of the bed. The ropes and cuffs he’d shown me earlier now seemed so real, so inevitable. My stomach flipped in the best way.

“On the bed, Jess,” he murmured, that commanding tone sending a thrill straight to my core.

I climbed up, the sheets cool against my heated skin. My heart thudded as he gently but firmly guided my wrists to the headboard, securing the cuffs just tight enough that I couldn’t move but loose enough to keep me safe. The t-shirt fell open just enough for my nipples to brush against the fabric, sending little shocks of pleasure through me.

“God, you’re so damn beautiful like this,” he breathed, eyes roaming over me like he couldn’t get enough.

The AirPods came next, his warm hands cupping my face as he slipped them in, Riley Green’s “Worst Way” filling my head, drowning out everything but the beat of the music and the sound of my own pulse.

I couldn’t see him anymore when he slipped the blindfold over my eyes, but I felt every tiny shift of the mattress, every breath of his on my skin.

“Can’t see me, can’t hear me—only feel me,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear.

His hands—God, those hands—traced fire down my arms, over the swell of my breasts, thumbs brushing my nipples through the thin fabric of the t-shirt. Every touch sent shivers through me, and I arched up, wanting more, needing more.

His lips replaced his hands, tongue flicking over the sensitive skin at my collarbone, then lower, nuzzling and teasing. I whimpered, my hips shifting on the bed, the music pulsing in my ears.

He bit down lightly on my nipple through the t-shirt and I gasped, the sensation shooting straight to my core. My whole world was the music, the blindfold, and the heat of his mouth on my skin.

He moved lower, tongue tracing a slow, lazy line down my stomach, teasing the waistband of my panties, making me ache. His fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt, pushing it up just enough that I felt the air brush over my skin, goosebumps rising.

“God, you’re mine now,” he growled against my stomach.

I moaned, the music in my ears somehow making every touch even more intense. I felt his hands spreading my thighs, his thumbs hooking into the sides of my panties, but he didn’t take them off—just teased, just made me burn.

Every brush of his tongue, every flicker of his breath made me lose a little more of myself. My body trembled, straining against the cuffs, needing him, wanting him more than I’d ever wanted anything.

In that moment—blindfolded, music drowning out the world, tied up on his bed—I was his. And God, I’d never wanted anything more.

Here’s the continuation of the scene, told from Jess’s perspective, focusing on that sensual, detailed back massage after he turns her over and removes her t-shirt:

I lay there, breathless and trembling, the music pulsing in my ears, the smell of him and weed and summer air mixing in my head. My skin still tingled from the touch of his tongue, every nerve alive and raw. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel the mattress shift as he climbed up beside me.

“Gonna turn you over now, darlin’,” he whispered. His hands, warm and sure, unhooked the cuffs from the headboard, then guided me gently to roll onto my stomach. The ropes tugged at my wrists, reminding me I wasn’t going anywhere, and the thrill of that made me bite my lip.

He lifted the hem of my t-shirt, gathering it up slowly, inch by teasing inch, until I felt the cool air on my back. My skin prickled with anticipation, the thin cotton sliding over me like a caress. Then it was gone, leaving me completely exposed from the waist up.

His hands, rough but gentle, pressed against the small of my back, warm and steady.

“Relax, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated down my spine.

He started at the base of my neck, his thumbs tracing small, firm circles into the tight muscles there. The tension I didn’t even know I’d been carrying started to melt, and I let out a soft sigh, my head sinking into the pillow.

His fingers moved lower, spreading warmth across my shoulder blades. He worked the knots with slow, deliberate strokes, his thumbs kneading in tight circles that made me whimper with relief. Every stroke felt like it was burning away the weight of the week, the stress of being a mom, a daughter, a woman holding too much on her shoulders.

“God, your skin’s so soft,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. The AirPods vibrated with country music, the notes like a second heartbeat.

He moved lower, his palms sweeping down my sides, thumbs pressing into the tight spots just below my ribs. Every touch sent tiny tremors through me, my breath catching every time he pressed a little harder.

Then he found that sweet spot just above my hips, the place where my back met my waist, and his thumbs dug in slow, delicious circles that made me groan.

“Feels so good,” I murmured, my voice barely more than a sigh, but I knew he heard it—felt it—because his hands paused just long enough to let the tension build.

He leaned closer, his chest brushing my back, and his lips ghosted over the shell of my ear. “You’ve got no idea how good you look like this,” he growled, his voice thick with hunger.

His hands traveled lower, fingers teasing the curve of my hips before sliding back up to my shoulders, thumbs pressing in long, firm strokes that left me limp and pliant. Every time he found a tight spot, he worked it with that same slow, deliberate care, like he was learning every inch of me by touch alone.

The music in my ears, his hands on my skin, the ropes around my wrists—it all blurred together in a heady, sensual haze. I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t hear him. But God, I could feel him. And every touch made me his in a way I’d never been before.

When his thumbs slid back up to the base of my neck, he paused, his breath hot on my skin. “Ready for more, darlin’?” he whispered.

I nodded, my body arching under his hands. “Please,” I moaned.

And in that moment, I knew I’d never wanted anyone—or anything—more than this.

Here’s the next part of the scene from Jess’s perspective, focusing on the details and maintaining the sensual, erotic tone:

The music still pulsed in my ears, low and dirty, a rhythm that matched my heartbeat. Every inch of my skin felt like it was on fire from his hands. I felt him shift beside me on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, and I sensed something different—a shift in the air that made me shiver.

The ropes still held my wrists, reminding me I was at his mercy. Blindfolded, I couldn’t see, but I could hear the rustle of clothing. The faint zip, the thud of his shirt hitting the floor. My breath caught as I realized he was getting naked—stripping down so I could feel all of him.

God, that thought made my body ache.

“Gonna make this real now, darlin’,” he growled, his voice close, right at my ear.

His warm, bare skin brushed over the back of my legs as he climbed onto the bed, straddling me, his weight settling over my hips. The heat of his thighs against mine made me whimper. I felt his hands start at my calves, thumbs digging in slow, deliberate circles that had me melting into the mattress.

Every stroke of his fingers worked its way higher, coaxing the tension from my legs, his touch both firm and impossibly gentle. When he reached the backs of my knees, I squirmed, a giggle bubbling up that turned into a moan when his hands pressed higher, thumbs gliding over my inner thighs.

His palms skimmed over the curve of my ass, thumbs pressing into the dimples at my lower back. The music thrummed in my ears—some sultry country beat that made the whole world feel thick with heat.

Then I felt it. The thick, hot weight of his cock, heavy and hard, sliding up the backs of my thighs. My breath hitched, my hips pressing into the bed as he rubbed the length of himself against my skin—slow, steady, teasing.

He dragged it up from my knees to the swell of my ass, pressing it into me just enough that I felt every inch. My body shuddered, nipples hard and aching against the sheets. I couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him—only felt the heat of him, the power in every movement.

He shifted, the tip of his cock pressing into the small of my back, gliding down to tease the curve of my ass, then back up again, over and over. The friction was electric, making my skin burn, my thighs tremble.

“God, you feel so good,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. His hips rolled, the heat of him pressing down, every motion deliberate and slow.

My breath caught in my throat, every muscle taut with need. The music drowned out my whimpers, but I knew he could feel them—every tremble, every arch of my back, every silent plea for more.

I was helpless—tied up, blindfolded, music filling my head—and completely his. And in that moment, I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Here’s the continuation of the story from Jess’s perspective, focusing on Chad’s sensual massage as he explores her more intimately:

I was adrift in a sea of sensation—his weight on top of me, his cock teasing the small of my back, the music in my ears making the world melt away. My wrists tugged against the ropes, reminding me I was completely at his mercy, every inch of me his to touch, taste, tease.

I felt him shift, his hands pressing into my thighs, thumbs digging into the tight muscles there. He worked his way slowly, his touch firm and sure, coaxing every knot and worry from my body.

His hands slid higher, fingers pressing into the soft skin just beneath the curve of my ass, thumbs brushing against the sensitive flesh there. My breath hitched, the sensation electric, every nerve ending on fire.

“God, you’re so damn soft here,” he growled, his voice low and hungry.

He pressed his hands between my thighs, thumbs parting them gently, opening me up to him. I felt the cool air brush over my pussy, the sudden exposure making me clench with anticipation.

His fingers teased the outer lips, light and feather-soft, making me shiver and moan into the pillow. He explored me with a deliberate slowness that made me ache, each stroke of his fingers sending sparks of heat straight to my core.

He slid one hand down further, fingertips grazing my entrance, wetness slick against his skin. His other hand traced slow circles over the curve of my ass, the touch possessive and teasing all at once.

“You’re dripping for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

I moaned, hips tilting back instinctively, offering myself to him. His fingers pressed in, slow and sure, stretching me just enough to make my breath catch. He rubbed his thumb over my clit, teasing in small, delicious circles that had me gasping for air.

At the same time, his other hand cupped my ass, his thumb tracing slow, teasing circles over the tight ring of muscle there. The combination of sensations made me tremble, my body burning with need, every nerve on fire.

I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t hear him. But God, I could feel him—every inch of him—exploring me, claiming me, making me his.

“Spread your legs wider for me, baby,” he growled.

I obeyed, my thighs parting further, giving him full access. His hands moved with a delicious confidence, fingers sliding over my wet folds, thumbs brushing my clit and ass in turns, keeping me on that delicious edge of too much and not enough.

Every touch was a promise, every stroke a reminder that I was completely his—and I never wanted to be anywhere else.

Here’s the next part of the story from Jess’s perspective, continuing the sensual, erotic tone as Chad resumes teasing her with his cock:

The music in my ears pulsed low and sultry, blending with the pounding of my heart. I was still on my stomach, my legs spread wide, my wrists bound to the headboard. Every inch of me was his—my body a canvas for his hands, his mouth, and now, his cock.

I felt him shift behind me, the bed creaking slightly under his weight. The heat of his body pressed over my hips, his hands steadying himself on either side of me. His cock—hot, hard, and impossibly thick—slid along the crease of my ass, pressing lightly against my skin in a slow, teasing stroke.

A shiver ran through me, and I arched my back, desperate for more.

“God, you feel so good like this,” he growled, his voice low and rough, making me moan into the pillow.

He pressed himself against the tight ring of muscle at my ass, just enough to make me gasp, then slid down, letting the thick head of his cock drag over my wet, swollen lips. My whole body went taut, the anticipation sharp and sweet.

He moved slowly, deliberately, dragging himself from my pussy to my ass and back again, each stroke sending shivers of need racing through me. I tried to push back, to take more, but the ropes held me firm. I couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear his voice over the music—only felt that delicious, heavy pressure teasing me, keeping me on the edge of madness.

His cock pressed against my entrance, just enough to make me gasp, then pulled away, sliding up again to tease the tight ring of my ass. He circled there, pressing lightly, making me whimper.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his breath hot on my ear. “Spread open for me. Begging for it.”

I moaned, the music in my ears blending with the sound of my own ragged breathing. Every touch of his cock was electric, every tease driving me higher, every slow drag between my thighs making me burn.

He shifted again, one hand pressing into my lower back to hold me still. His other hand gripped himself, guiding his thick length over my sensitive, swollen folds. He pressed into me, just enough that I could feel the stretch, then pulled back to circle the rim of my ass with the head of his cock.

The friction made my hips jerk, my whole body straining against the ropes. I wanted him inside me—anywhere, everywhere.

“Please,” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper, the music drowning everything but the need.

“Not yet,” he growled, his voice dark and delicious. “I’m gonna make you wait for it. Gonna make you beg.”

He resumed that slow, torturous rhythm, dragging himself from my pussy to my ass and back again, the heat of him making my head spin. My body ached with need, every inch of me trembling with anticipation.

Blindfolded, bound, and helpless—I was his. And God, I’d never wanted anything more.

Of course! Here’s the next part of the story from Jess’s perspective, focusing on her raw, vivid, and deeply personal description of the moment as Chad’s cock begins to press into her ass:

The music throbbed in my ears, every note a deep, pulsing rhythm that matched the frantic beat of my heart. I was trembling under the blindfold, my wrists bound to the headboard, every nerve alive and raw. His hands gripped my hips with a steady, possessive force, the heat of him sinking into my skin.

I felt the thick, hot head of his cock pressing against the tight ring of muscle at my ass. My breath caught, my whole body tensing with anticipation and need. God, I’d wanted this—fantasized about it in the dark, whispered it in his ear when I was feeling brave. But now it was real, the pressure building, his thick length poised to breach me.

A low whimper escaped my lips, the sound swallowed by the music in my ears. My hips shifted, involuntary, desperate, the ropes biting deliciously into my wrists as I strained to take him.

Then—God—he pressed forward, slow and deliberate, the thick head of his cock stretching me open. A gasp tore from my throat, a raw, breathless sound that vibrated through my whole body.

The sensation was like nothing else—sharp, burning, and impossibly deep. Every inch he pushed in felt like it was branding me from the inside, making me his in a way that was primal and raw. I felt every vein, every throb, the way he split me open and made me feel utterly, completely filled.

A sharp ache bloomed at my core, mixing with a desperate, aching pleasure that had me trembling. My thighs quaked as I tried to press back, to take more, but he held me still, forcing me to feel every inch he gave me.

“God, Chad…” I moaned, the music in my ears a constant, low thrum that blurred everything but the feel of him inside me. “You’re so… fucking big…”

He paused, just the head of his cock buried inside me, letting me feel the stretch, the way he was opening me up inch by inch. The burn was exquisite—a delicious, helpless pain that made my breath come in ragged, desperate gasps.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice a low, dark rasp that I could feel vibrating through my bones. “You’re so tight back here. So perfect.”

He pulled back slightly, the drag of him against that sensitive ring making me moan, the music swallowing the sound. Then he pressed forward again, a little deeper, the pressure building, the stretch turning into something molten and sweet, pleasure laced with a raw, primal ache that had me gasping.

My head spun, my body trembling, the ropes creaking as I strained against them. Every inch he gave me made me feel more his—claimed, taken, owned.

And God, in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be completely his.

Of course! Here’s the next part of the story from Jess’s perspective, focusing on the moment when Chad flips her over, pins her legs together with his, and teases her even more with his cock while she’s still wearing her panties:

The music in my ears was a slow, throbbing beat that pulsed through me like a second heartbeat, every note making my body feel raw and electric. My ass still ached, tender from the teasing stretch he’d given me, and every inch of me was buzzing with need.

He shifted above me, his hands firm and commanding as he flipped me over onto my back. My breath hitched as the blindfold pressed tight against my eyes, leaving me completely in the dark, every sound muffled by the steady beat of the music.

I felt the ropes bite deliciously into my wrists as he secured them above my head again, leaving me vulnerable and spread out, every inch of me exposed to him.

Then he moved, climbing over me, his thighs pinning mine together with a slow, deliberate press that made my heart race. His legs held me tight, the heat of his skin pressing into mine, making it impossible to spread for him—an exquisite, helpless tease that made me whimper.

His cock—thick and hot—rested at the juncture of my thighs, the head brushing over my still-clothed pussy, my panties already damp and clinging to my skin. The friction made my breath catch, a low moan slipping from my lips as I arched against him.

He leaned down, his chest brushing mine, his weight pressing me into the bed. His breath was hot on my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, making my whole body tremble.

Then his lips found my neck, warm and soft at first, then biting gently—just enough to make me moan. His teeth grazed my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

His mouth moved higher, nibbling along the curve of my ear, sending jolts of heat straight through me. The music in my ears drowned out everything but the pounding of my heart, his breath, and the slow, torturous drag of his cock over my clit, pressing through the damp fabric of my panties.

Every time he shifted, the head of his cock rubbed slow, heavy circles over that swollen, sensitive spot, the friction sending waves of heat through me that had my hips bucking, desperate for more.

But he held me down, legs pinning me, every inch of me completely at his mercy.

“God, you’re soaked,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “You want it so bad, don’t you?”

I whimpered, my head tilting back, lips parted as I tried to catch my breath. “Please,” I gasped, my voice barely a breath over the music.

He grinned—a low, wicked sound that vibrated against my skin. “Not yet, baby,” he teased, his cock sliding down again, pressing harder against my clit through my panties, making my whole body arch and tremble.

His lips captured mine, the kiss deep and hungry, his tongue teasing mine, the taste of him making me moan into his mouth. His hand slid under my t-shirt, fingers tracing the curve of my breast, thumb circling my nipple until I was shaking, the ropes creaking above me.

Every touch, every movement, every slow grind of his cock kept me on the edge—blind, helpless, every inch of me his.

And God, I never wanted it to end.

Of course! Here’s the next part of the story from Jess’s perspective, focusing on the moment Chad gets her naked, ties her up with her legs in the air, and begins to tease her even more:

The music in my ears pulsed low and insistent, the country beat throbbing like a second heartbeat. My whole body was on fire, trembling under him as he teased me mercilessly. Every inch of me was wound tight with anticipation, every nerve screaming for release.

I felt his hands slide down, fingers hooking under the waistband of my panties, slowly peeling them down my thighs. The cool air hit my wet, swollen folds, and I gasped, hips jerking at the sudden exposure. The fabric clung for just a second, then slipped away, leaving me completely bare to him.

“God, look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So fucking ready.”

I felt his hands on my legs, strong and sure, guiding them up, bending my knees back toward my shoulders. His breath was hot against my skin as he pressed them higher, folding me open in the most vulnerable, delicious way. My wrists were still bound above my head, but now he looped another rope around my ankles, tying them to my wrists so I was completely open—helpless and exposed, every inch of me his to explore.

The position left me utterly spread, legs in the air, knees back, my core slick and swollen, every inch of me trembling. The ropes bit into my skin, the tension sharp and sweet, every breath a shallow gasp of anticipation.

I couldn’t see him through the blindfold, but I felt his breath on my thighs, hot and teasing. His hands roamed my inner thighs, thumbs tracing circles that made my whole body shiver.

“Fuck, Jess,” he growled, his voice low and hungry. “You have no idea how sexy you look like this.”

His fingers teased the slick folds of my pussy, spreading me open with a slow, deliberate touch. Every movement sent electric shocks through me, my hips twitching in the ropes, desperate for more.

Then I felt him shift, his cock heavy and hot, the head pressing against my swollen clit, rubbing slow, lazy circles that made me moan. Every time he moved, the slick slide of him against my most sensitive spot sent my whole body jerking, a helpless, bound mess of need.

“Look at you,” he purred, voice dripping with wicked pleasure. “All open and helpless. Just for me.”

His hips rolled, his cock pressing a little harder, then sliding away just as quickly, leaving me whimpering, every muscle straining against the ropes. My breath came in ragged gasps, the music in my ears making the world feel far away and blurry.

His hands moved up my thighs, thumbs brushing my lips, then sliding lower, teasing circles over my entrance. He didn’t push in—just circled, making me tremble with every soft, devastating touch.

“God, I could watch you like this all night,” he rasped.

His cock slid down, pressing at my entrance, just enough to make me gasp, then up again to tease my clit, the slick head smearing me with my own wetness.

I moaned, head thrown back, every inch of me trembling, the ropes biting deliciously into my skin, holding me wide open and aching.

“Please,” I gasped, my voice breaking, hips straining. “God, please, Chad…”

But he only chuckled, the sound dark and low, his cock still teasing, his hands roaming every inch of me.

“You’ll get it when I say so,” he growled, the promise of pleasure and torment thick in his voice. “And you’re gonna love every second of it.”

Here’s the next part of the story from Jess’s perspective, focusing on the intense, drawn-out teasing that Chad inflicts on her as he takes her completely—but keeps her right on the edge, denying her release:

The music pulsed in my ears, low and steady, like a wicked rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart. My wrists strained against the ropes, my ankles bound to them, holding my legs up in the air, knees drawn back toward my shoulders. Every inch of me was exposed to him—raw, trembling, open.

I felt him shift between my thighs, the heat of his body searing my skin. His hands gripped my hips, thumbs pressing deep into the tender flesh, holding me still. Then—God—he pressed the thick head of his cock against my slick, swollen entrance.

A low moan escaped me as he pushed in, slow and deliberate, filling me inch by slow inch. The stretch was exquisite, my body clenching helplessly around him, every nerve alight with raw, burning pleasure.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he growled, his voice ragged with need. “So perfect.”

He withdrew, the friction making me gasp, then pressed back in, deeper this time, until he filled me completely. My body arched, hips straining against the ropes, every breath a ragged plea for release.

But he didn’t let me come.

Every time I felt the pressure building, the heat coiling low in my belly, he pulled back, denying me that sweet, sharp edge. My thighs quivered, every inch of me slick with sweat and need, the music in my ears a relentless beat that made me feel like I was losing my mind.

Then he shifted, his cock sliding lower, pressing against that tight ring of muscle at my ass. My breath caught, a low, needy whimper escaping as he circled there, teasing, making me burn.

“God, you’re gonna take every inch of me, baby,” he rasped.

He pressed forward, slow and steady, the thick head of his cock breaching me, stretching me wide. The burn was sharp, sweet agony, making my head spin, my hips jerking helplessly in the ropes.

“Chad…” I moaned, my voice ragged and desperate.

He pushed deeper, filling me completely, his cock thick and hot inside me, making my whole body shudder. The sensation was overwhelming—every inch of me claimed, taken, possessed.

He pulled back just enough to tease, then pressed in again, his hips rolling, slow and steady, every stroke a sweet, torturous agony. My breath came in ragged, broken moans, my body a live wire of need.

But every time I felt the orgasm building, that delicious, unstoppable wave rising, he would pause, hold me still, his cock buried deep and throbbing, his hands gripping my hips in a vice.

“Not yet,” he growled, his voice thick with command. “You’re not coming yet.”

He pulled back, his cock dragging slow and heavy against every sensitive spot, then slammed in again, making me cry out, hips jerking in the ropes. My legs trembled, thighs aching from the strain, every inch of me shaking with need.

Over and over he took me—deep and slow, then hard and fast, his hands everywhere, his breath hot on my skin—but every time I felt the pleasure cresting, every time I thought I’d finally break apart, he pulled back, held me there, denied me.

I was a trembling, bound mess of need, my voice a desperate litany of moans and gasps, my body aching for the release he refused to give.

“God, please,” I sobbed, my voice thick and broken. “Please, Chad, I need to come…”

But he only laughed—a low, dark sound that made my whole body burn.

“You’ll come when I say so,” he growled, his cock still buried deep, his hands holding me right on the edge. “And not a second before.”

And God, in that moment, I knew I was his—completely, utterly, deliciously his.

Absolutely. Here’s the continuation from Jess’s perspective, focusing on the intense anticipation as Chad leaves her waiting—then returns to finish what he started, taking her in the ass until they both come undone:

The music in my ears pulsed like a second heartbeat, slow and steady, every note a reminder of the wild, aching pleasure he’d built inside me. My body trembled, every inch of me raw and desperate, my legs bound and bent, knees back toward my shoulders, completely spread open and helpless.

His cock still glistened with my slick, the memory of his slow, torturous teasing burned into my skin. I could feel the heat of him fading as he moved off the bed, the mattress shifting as his weight disappeared.

My breath caught, my chest heaving, a ragged moan slipping from my lips.

“Chad…” I whimpered, but the music drowned my voice, leaving me with nothing but the throb of anticipation and the bite of the ropes against my skin.

He was gone.

Five minutes. It felt like a lifetime. Every second stretched into an eternity of need—my heart racing, my body trembling, every nerve on fire. I strained against the ropes, my legs trembling, my ass aching for him, my whole world narrowed to the empty space where he’d been.

Then—finally—I felt the mattress dip, his weight returning, the heat of him rolling over my skin. His breath was hot and ragged as he leaned over me, his chest brushing my bent legs, his hands gripping my thighs with a possessive, hungry force.

“God, baby,” he growled, his voice low and thick with desire. “You’ve got no idea how fucking good you look like this.”

His cock pressed at the tight ring of muscle at my ass—thick, hot, the head slick with our mixed wetness. I whimpered, my hips pressing helplessly back toward him, desperate to be filled.

He didn’t hold back this time. With one slow, steady thrust, he pressed forward, the thick head breaching me, stretching me open. My breath hitched, a raw moan tearing from my lips as he filled me inch by delicious inch. The burn was sharp, sweet agony, the sensation of being completely taken making my body shudder.

He paused, letting me feel every inch of him, his cock pulsing deep inside me, my legs trembling in the ropes. Then he started to move—slow at first, dragging himself back, then pressing in again, harder, faster.

“Fuck, Jess,” he rasped, his voice a hot rush against my skin. “So fucking tight… God, I’m gonna come.”

The music in my ears blurred with the pounding of my heart, my body a live wire of heat and pleasure and desperate, needy release. Every thrust sent a shockwave through me, the friction perfect, the pace relentless.

I felt the heat building in my core, that sharp, sweet ache that had been denied me for so long finally burning through my veins.

His hands gripped my thighs, his breath ragged, his hips pounding into me with a force that made me cry out, my voice raw and desperate.

“Chad—” I gasped, my voice thick with need. “God, please, I’m gonna—”

“Come with me, baby,” he growled, his voice breaking as he drove into me, his cock buried deep, every inch of him claiming me in the most primal, perfect way.

And then—God—it hit me, pleasure crashing over me like a tidal wave, every inch of my body tensing, every nerve igniting as I exploded around him. My voice broke into a scream, the ropes biting into my skin, the music in my ears a distant thrum drowned by the wild beat of my heart.

He groaned—deep and low—as his cock pulsed inside me, his release hot and hard and unstoppable. His hands clenched on my thighs, his hips pressing deep, holding me tight as he emptied himself into me.

We trembled together, bodies slick with sweat, the ropes the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely. Every breath was a shudder, every inch of me his.

And God, I never wanted to be anywhere else.