“I’m going to touch you. Take care of you. Let me take you where you need to go.”
She nodded.
He gazed at his handiwork. The ropes crossed above and below her naked breasts, two strands running between them to frame and lift the tender mounds like a rope bra. The rest of it was coiled around her abdomen, locking her arms in position. He leaned in closer, stroking one breast, then the other. Smooth motions, avoiding her nipples. Paying attention to all the soft surfaces before moving in and caring for the tight tips. He covered one with his mouth, wetting it and sucking the tiny ring. Switching sides, listening to the changes in her breathing and sensing how she pressed forward looking for more.
She spread her thighs when he tapped the inside of her legs.
“God, you’re wet,” he praised, before drawing his fingers along her folds and finding the tight bundle of nerves at the top. Marcus played with the clit bar, stroking it gently even as he returned to tasting her breasts. He couldn’t get enough of her.
She shuddered and came far quicker than he’d expected. Head thrown back, a groan of pleasure escaping her lips. He stood and adjusted her, guiding her to lie belly down over the footrest. Her ass bent over the edge, thighs spread wide.
He ran his hand over her wet cunt, dipping his fingers in. Enjoying the evidence of how turned on she was. Sitting on the floor, he covered her with his mouth.
“Oh yes.” Becki wiggled under his attention, small noises sneaking from her, somewhere between moans and gasps as he licked from top to bottom, lapping at her. Playing with her clit before dragging all the way to the tight rosette of her ass. Her taste filled him. Drove him mad. He speared his tongue into her, fucking her with it. Eating greedily as she grew wetter for him. Because of him.
Then he rose over her and lined up his cock, dragging the fat crown up and down against her opening until she arched as hard as possible. Pressing her ass toward him, trying to get him to enter her.
He gave her what she wanted and angled in. Slowly, captivated by the sight of his cock vanishing into her warmth, relishing the sensation as her body wrapped around him like his rope was wrapped around her.
Tight heat. Slick wetness. He caught hold of the ropes and used them as an anchor. Becki called his name and her cunt squeezed him, catching him by surprise yet again.
“So beautiful.” So responsive. He drove all the way in and paused, savouring the rippling of her body as her orgasm rocked on and on. Every time the pulses slowed, he dragged back and pressed in again, prolonging her pleasure like some hedonistic torture.
When she finally sighed lustily, he thrust. Pushing her to the limits. Pounding into her, the fronts of his thighs slapping against her legs, balls banging her clit on the end of every stroke.
His climax approached and he exploded, her tight passage tearing pleasure from him, ripping his seed loose and making his mind go blank for a moment.
He covered her with his body, surrounding her, holding her close, pushing away the hair that lay over her sweaty cheek. Still intimately connected, hearts racing. The presence of the rope between them barely registered, it was so soft and warm from her skin.
He withdrew, moisture following him as her cunt tightened in response, and Becki moaned. He lifted her. Untied her. Let the rope fall unminded to the floor as he carried her to the shower and held her in his arms, waiting for her to come back from the place she was.
His embrace replaced the rope. The warmth of the water replaced the fire. He waited patiently, wondering why thoughts of tying her up and never letting her leave him were so very strong.
Water hit her face. Protected and at peace, Becki didn’t fight the euphoria still holding her in its grasp. Just accepted it. Went with the sensation.
She knew Marcus was caring for her. He’d known how to tease and control her body as he’d brought her to orgasm. He’d perfectly handled the rope that had held her so tight she didn’t have to worry what came next.
As she leaned against his chest, part of her was aware she stood in the shower with him, but she could have been anywhere safe and warm. The reality of here and now fell away. The only things that remained were emotions. Driving into her like the pulse of his heart. One beat after another.
Safe.
Guarded.
I’ve got you.
Cherished.
The trees were gone. Before her was nothing but rock, the wide ledge on which she sat solid and flat as a table. Her head ached, and she climbed gingerly to her feet, muscles protesting. Hell, all of her was protesting. Her fingers stung as she used the cliff behind her to help haul herself upright—that hurtful moment when blood returns to too-cold digits making her swear. The weight of her pack dragged at her as she found her balance. She unhooked her helmet, tempted to let it fall to the ground. Habit forced her to stretch protesting muscles to reach around and clip it to an out-of-the-way strap.
Her fingers brushed past her harness, the . . .
. . . world blurred.
Becki stood motionless. Her heart raced as if she’d completed a sprint. She looked around, checking for signs of danger. The soft sounds of the wilderness greeted her. Nothing to indicate why she fought the rush of adrenaline panic flooding her veins. The weather had turned, full-out rain falling, and her face was wet. She adjusted her hood to guard herself from the full deluge as she examined the territory.
There was a clearly visible track leading off to the right. Not anything remotely like a maintained park trail or even a well-traveled climbing route. It was more likely an animal path, but it was something to follow nonetheless.
Walking along the narrow cliff gave her something to focus on. She had to concentrate to keep from slipping as the rocks underfoot grew rain-soaked and slick. She’d gone for a couple of hours at least, stopping and taking drinks, constantly making her way downward. She had to approach one of the high-traffic paths eventually.
Rounding a corner and coming face-to-face with two very pale-cheeked teens barely surprised her. What else could this mountain throw at her?
They were stuck, of course. On a ledge—one of those lovely looking pitches that were easy to get up and the devil to get down without training or a healthy dose of chutzpah. Becki stepped forward and waved.
Becki sucked for air, opening her eyes to discover that she had Marcus clutched around the neck with a death grip.
“Hey, shhh, you’re okay. I’m here. You’re good.” He kissed her temple and squeezed her close.
She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. “Marcus, I remember. The accident.”
He shut off the shower, all his attention focused tightly on her face. “Explain.”
“Not everything, but I remember finding the girls. The rescue. And a few hours before that.” She accepted the towel he wrapped around her shoulders, her insides buzzing with a strange mix of sexual hangover and giddy enthusiasm. “Holy shit, I remember.”
Somehow Marcus had her sitting on the bed as he finished drying her off. “Well, not the normal reaction I get to tying up a woman, but if you’re happy, I’ll take it.”
Becki threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight. When she let go, she caught his grinning face in her hands and kissed him solidly before pulling back far enough to allow their foreheads to rest together. “The sex was wonderful. Thank you.”
He stared at her, the blue in his eyes shining bright like a summer day. “You okay to get dressed? We’ll get something to eat and you can tell me about it.”
She nodded. Caressed his face carefully. “I enjoyed myself completely.”
“No complaints over here, either.”
As they separated to find clothes, Becki sorted through all the images in her brain, including the new ones, the ones that had been hiding from her for so long. There were still things she didn’t understand, but the fact that a bit of the missing information had chosen to come to light encouraged her a ton.
She pulled a clean shirt over her head and stared across the room at Marcus as he dressed.
The memories were awesome and thrilling, but the sensation of being completely and utterly cared for by him? It wasn’t as if she could compare the issues, but she was so pleased she’d gotten to experience both.
She joined Marcus as soon as she was dressed. He had leaned down and nabbed the end of the rope, coiling the long section in a smooth motion by wrapping it around his arm. Had it been too soon for them to be playing games? Not as far as she was concerned. Sex had always been fun, but Marcus took it up a level way past fun. There was no hiding the shiver that took her as she watched him handle the cord so expertly.
He’d seen it as well. Her response.
“If you don’t stop grinning like that, I’m going to call you the Cheshire cat,” she warned.
“Meow.”
She smacked him on the shoulder as she slipped past toward the kitchen. Something bubbled inside, between her mental delight and physical satisfaction.
She’d remembered. Holy cow, so incredible.
Marcus came and directed traffic as they put together sandwiches and soup. A simple task, which was good because she was distracted sharing the bits she’d seen.
She’d barely finished when he pulled the pickle jar from her fingers and stole one. “Does everything you told me line up with what the rescue crew reported?”
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