Travis’ stare locked with hers in their mirrored reflection. She trailed one finger down to the waistband on his jeans again; this time, he stood still while she loosened the zipper, sliding her right hand inside his boxer briefs. Her hand moved, slow, then faster, his breath quickening; she reached her left hand in, squeezing his balls, so gentle, her right hand still jerking him off. He came, hard, fast, into her hands while they both watched in the mirrors.
Cara pulled her hands out, Travis’ cock getting hard again watching her suck his cum from her fingers. He knelt down, reaching behind him, cradling his wife’s ass in his hands, her body sliding down against the wall as he lowered them both towards the floor.
Cara looked up at her husband as he stretched out beside her, the shreds of her blouse under them. His own shirt was stained with honey butter and his sweat from holding her up while he spilled into her hand. Cara sat up, straddling him, pulling at his shirt. He sat up while she pulled the shirt off, tossing it to one side; but he moved faster, catching it as she flung it to one side.
“Come here,” he murmured, his mouth brushing hers. Cara leaned away, making to bolt towards the open door.
Travis felt her legs tense, catching her before she had time to climb off him. He tied her hands over her head with his t-shirt in a couple of quick, well-practiced moves, ignoring the string of four-letter expletives pouring from Cara’s mouth.
“Are you going to be quiet now?” Travis asked her, running his fingers over her bare nipples.
“Fuck you,” she said in a gasp, Travis’ fingers moving from a caress to a pinch. She waited until he’d lowered his head to tease her further, his tongue a wet relief after the pain from his fingers, and she kicked out; but he anticipated that too, catching her legs between his own. He lost his grip on her cuffed hands for just a moment when he shifted his weight to secure her legs, and Cara moved fast, turning her face to avoid his demanding mouth, bringing her arms down between them, clasping her fingers together into a fist to push against his chest as hard as she could.
Not hard enough….Travis pulled her arms, still bound tight together with his shirt, back up over her head and flipped her over on her stomach. Before she could move, he’d straddled her back, facing her feet, his own legs spread so he could put pressure on her neck with the tops of his feet. Cara lay still, catching her breath and considering an escape route. When she tried to move, Travis leaned back so more of his weight rested on her neck, keeping her pinned. He reached under her to remove her jeans.
By the time he’d rolled her pants down to her ankles, most of his weight fell across the length of her body; Cara shivered a little at the delicious reality of lying beneath this man above her. Her breath caught as he slid one, two, three fingers inside her while his tongue traced a trail down the back of her right calf. Travis sat up and rolled her over, pulling her up after him, his mouth coming down on hers. She bit his lip and he slapped her ass, hard. She stopped biting, and his kiss deepened. Her cunt was already so wet, by the time his tongue left her mouth and followed his fingers, she felt the waves of her orgasm crash as soon his tongue touched her clit.
Feeling her start to cum, Travis looked up to watch her face; Cara seized the moment. She lifted her legs up and kicked at his shoulders, catching him off balance, but just for a moment. He’d grabbed her legs again before she could get her wrists free of the remnants of his t-shirt. This time, he lay on top of her, one arm to either side of her body like he prepared to complete a round of push-ups. Her hands, still cuffed, pushed against his chest.
Travis smiled. “I think I may have a bruised shoulder tomorrow,” he murmured, his mouth just over her own.
Cara lifted her head to catch his lower lip between her teeth, but he anticipated every move, lifting his own as well. “Now what?” He raised one eyebrow, mocking her frustration. He shifted his weight again, leaning on his elbows now.
Cara felt her fury and their passion mount.
Travis looked down at her, his eyes narrowed. He ran his tongue over the small scar on the lower outer corner of his lip, courtesy of one of their last “kiss me” encounters when he’d surrendered himself over. Travis smiled, remembering that wild night. Hell hath no fury like his woman released from bondage.
Cara watched the expressions moving across his face. “I’m not going to bite you. Promise.” She laughed – he looked almost disappointed.
Her voice grew huskier. “Kiss me,” she whispered.
Travis let his mouth hover just over her lips, moving slow, finally letting his open mouth come down on hers. Cara let the tension drain from her sore muscles, lost in the feel of the sweet caress of his tongue against hers. She felt him harden again, and smiled.
Travis reached down between them, pulling her arms over her head. She winced – her fingers tingled, the circulation returning. Travis watched her face contort in pain and started undoing the knot he’d tied.
“No,” Cara panted, her breathing ragged. “Fuck me now.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, woman,” Travis muttered, fighting down his need to encase his throbbing cock in her dripping cunt. “Apologize.”
“Make me.” Cara ignored the pain intensifying in her wrists, focusing on the small muscles tightening on the left side of Travis’ face. He fought to control himself, she knew.