Never Let You Go

Kathryn Wilson untied the ropes around Patrick Kane’s wrists and allowed him some freedom finally. Before she had released him, she warned him that he could not touch any of her toys, binding her and gagging her. If he even made one attempt to, she would assault him hard in punishment. He had agreed to her rules, hungry to ravish her. He wasn’t into the whole bondage thing, even if she had been and had tied him up.

She gave him one last instruction, seeing him desperately restraining himself and then she leaned back and basically said “go.”

How many a night had she spent dreaming of just such an encounter? Her nerves caught fire under his touch as he slowly took the banked fires of her desire for him and stoked them into an inferno that threatened to rage out of control. She moaned and sighed underneath him as he lay full-length upon her. She was already impatient to have him inside her--it had been so long...

But he wasn't yet ready to let go. Soothingly, he stroked his hand over her hair until she quieted. Then he began to seduce her in earnest. He wanted to have her begging for him. It wasn't fair that he was the only one to suffer, and lord only knew how many times she had teased and taunted HIM in the past. Well, now it was payback time, so she let him think. He touched her and was pleasantly surprised to feel her shivering.

He lifted himself up so he could gaze down at her. She was as lovely and responsive as he had remembered her to be. Her mouth was slightly open, and her breath came in shallow gasps. The brown eyes that met his blues were slightly glazed. He kissed her again, his mouth firmer now. He nudged her mouth open for him and savored the feel of her tongue warring adjacent his for domination. He groaned softly, the moistness of her mouth reminding him of how moist she was elsewhere.

With one hand on her cheek, he kissed her and showed her how much he wanted her, HAD wanted her while he'd been away, and with the other, he caressed her right breast, kneading and stroking the soft flesh. Soon she was moaning into his mouth as he began to circle his finger round the highly sensitive peak of her nipple. He placed his palm over it and felt it harden delightfully. The weight of her breast felt so wonderful in his hand, so perfect.

She was getting frisky now, and just as she was always trying to put in her two cents OUT of bed, she was now trying to push him onto his back and give her two cents IN it. But he resisted--tonight was for her. He would pleasure her until she was wild for him, and then finally, he would take her. Tonight he would make her lie back and enjoy what he was planning to do to her body. There would be time later for equality and reciprocity.

Well, that what she let him think at least. She was only giving him a tiny bit of freedom and fun for himself. But it wouldn’t last. And he knew that, no matter how much he was enjoying himself at the moment, soon she would resume her control and maybe fuck him again, whatever she felt like doing to the frisky blonde haired Chicago Blackhawk.

Suddenly and abruptly, she pushed him to the side and got up, leaving him lying on the bed gaping in surprise. She returned momentarily, with a soft length of fabric. Grinning, she ignored him when he protested, saying, "Hey, no fair!" and lifted his arms and bound his wrists together firmly, but not painfully once more.

Now he was helpless. He glared up at her, with mock outrage, as she tried to blow a stray strand of hair off her cheek.

“Patrick,” she sighed.

Reaching over, with his bound wrists, he tucked it behind her ear, finally giving in.

She giggled, as she waggled her eyebrows at the man in her grasp, comically and snickered, "Now, I've got you, my pretty!"

"You're going to pay for this!" he stated, grinning back.

"I look forward to it with great pleasure," she shot back, her dark eyes glinting with arousal.

He narrowed his eyes at her, stuck out his tongue, and prepared to say something else, when she leaned over suddenly and silenced him with her index finger. "Sweet Kanerboo, has anyone ever told you talk too much?"

But before he had a chance to answer, she began to trace a path from the softness of his mouth to his ear. Once there she kissed it. She felt him tremble in her arms as she breathed a warm puff of air into his ear. His breathing was ragged, and when she finally pulled away, he tried in vain to bring her back, but alas, his hands were firmly bound together.

He moaned in protest, and she replied, "There, that's better. I like it when you talk like that."

He moaned again, this time sounding a little more desperate. Like a victim.

"Uh- uh, Pretty Boy, not yet."

She then propped him up against two pillows. Having done that, she pulled backward, away from him.

"Come here," he tried to command her.

"Why?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

"I want to touch you, I want to run my hands all over you," he said huskily.

"That's nice," she said, as she lay on the bed next to him. She slowly grabbed his bound wrists and raised his arms to her chest. He loyally rested his bound hands in the middle, feeling her heart, which raced inside of her.

“Go ahead,” she stated, kindly blinking at him.

He began to play with her breasts, once more, driving her to oblivion. However this time, he was back under her guidance and control with his wrists bound together. Her back arched forcefully, as if she were trying to push her breasts even further up to him, into his hands. He alternated between using light, fleeting brushes, and long, firm strokes, both having a tremendous effect on her. He stopped for a moment to look up at her. Seeing him looking up at her, from the vantage point of her breasts aroused her even more, if that were possible.

He worked his way down the rest of her body until he came to rest at the juncture of her thighs. He lay with his hands between them, his warmth spreading upon her most sensitive parts. She seemed to welcome him at first. But he stopped, pulled back, and simply looked at her. He began to struggle with his bonds again.

"What's the matter, Kanerboo?" she asked him, with mock concern, clamping her legs shut once again.

"If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you," he replied, determined not to give in to her.

"That's fine with me, Pretty Boy. But I'm not going to do anything unless you tell me what it is you want," she answered, smiling slightly, knowing she had the advantage.

"I don't care," he replied stubbornly.

"Okay, well, I have to go now--I have some work to do," she said, as she rose to leave.

"NO! I mean, no. Where are you going?" he asked.

"I told you. I have work to do, and if you're not going to tell me what you want, why should I waste my time?"

"Please," he beseeched.

"Please, what?"

"Don't go."

"Why should I stay? You obviously don't want me."

"I do. I want you."

"Oh? What do you want?" she asked.

Patrick remained silent. She rose to leave.

"Wait, please stay."

"Only if you tell me what you want, though. That's my condition. Agree?"

"Yes, just please don't leave me here like this," he said.

"Like what?" she asked curiously.

"Turned-on." (And bound...)

"What can I do to help you, Patty?"

"Put your mouth on mine again," he whispered.

"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"I said, put your mouth on mine."

"Put my mouth on you where?" she queried.

"On my mouth," he answered.

She smirked darkly and returned to him. She sat back down, before him. And she instantly stuck her head to his and kissed him. He attempted to raise his bound wrists up and cradle her face, but he froze, as she took control of him.

"Oh God, that feels so good. Please don't stop. I want you. I need you. Will you stop torturing me? Untie me, please. Will you fuck me, please? I can't take any more of this... Please, please, please, let me go."

"Do you want me, Kanerboo?" she asked, knowing the answer already.

"Mmmhmm," he answered into her mouth.

"Tell me," he ordered, "tell me how much you want me. Tell me how badly you want me!"

"Oh God, I want you. I want you so badly. Please fuck me. Please..." he replied, panting.

"Okay," she said, simultaneously untying his hands finally. He grabbed her as soon as his hands were free and pulled her down to him. Their bodies were soon slick and warm against each other, as their mouths collided hungrily.

The friction built as their tongues licked and sucked each other, and their lower halves began a wicked dance. Her hands tunneled through his hair, and his hands rested on her hips, pulling her up to meet his thrusts.

Immediately, he tore his mouth away from hers, his breathing ragged, and looked down to where they were smashed together. They clung to each other, exhausted and replete. He moved down until he lay with his head pillowed comfortably against her soft breasts. She bent her head down to look at him, and kissed his hair, smiling affectionately. He fingers continued to comb through his blonde locks, as she rested her head on top of his.

She whispered softly to him, “I love you Patrick Kane.”

He sighed and whispered back the same words, lifting his head to look up at her with blue pools of glittering passion, "I love you, Kitty."

Then the two closed their eyes, utterly sated, and rested, cuddling together. Patrick didn’t want to leave. He actually loved this woman now. And she, of course, loved him. She was never going to let him go. And he didn’t want to go. Not anymore. He was intent to remain with her. Even if he never played hockey, saw his teammates, or saw the outdoors again.