Playing Knotty by Elia Winters

sliding up onto his thighs where he was kneeling. Emma flushed; this position left her so exposed, her hips angled up to him. He took his cock in hand and pressed it to her folds, shifting forward a bit, kneeling up off his heels to push the head inside.
    Oh, fuck.
    When she heard him chuckle, she realized she’d said it out loud. “You okay?”
    â€œYes. Fuck, yes.” God, “okay” didn’t even begin to describe it.
    He was thick, and it had been a while, and his cock felt like it was going to fill every inch of her. He shifted forward slightly, holding the base of his shaft as he guided it all the way into her.
    The depth of penetration made Emma’s head swim. The angle meant he was pressing upward inside her, and every subtle shift of his hips hit her G-spot with perfect precision. She wrapped her legs up and over his hips as he began to rock, the head of his cock gliding back and forth right where she wanted it.
    â€œHow’s this feel?” His voice sounded strained, and Emma nodded and moaned as another push made the pleasure rush right through her. “God, you’re so tight.” He began to rub her clit again, and Emma couldn’t really move, so she gripped the bedsheets and held on. Used to having to control her own pleasure, she took only a minute to realize he was going to make her come like this, with her doing nothing but taking it. Even though she wasn’t tied up, she felt helpless, unable to even thrust back against him.
    â€œThat’s right.” He rocked harder, still buried deep inside her, and she felt the pleasure building faster than she’d known it could. “Tying you up tonight, Em . . . Fuck, I wanted—I wanted you like this, just like this.” His words made her clench down around him, and he groaned. “You’re so goddamn hot with those ropes . . . God, I want to see you come.”
    She whimpered, actually whimpered, and it was as much from his words as what he was doing. A few more thrusts, his hips working faster, cock rubbing in short, fierce strokes inside her, and her orgasm was torn out of her as she cried out and arched up off the bed. The white-hot pleasure bloomed throughout her body, spreading outward until even her fingers and toes tingled with it, and she collapsed back onto the mattress.
    He went with her, shifting up off his kneeling position to lie fully on top of her, his cock sliding home once more. The hard thrust drew an aftershock from Emma, and she had no time to recover before he was driving into her, hard and fast, chasing his own pleasure as she shivered through the last remains of her climax. With a few sharp jerks of his hips, he was coming inside her, shuddering and panting into her neck.
    They lay there catching their breath for a few moments, coming down from their highs, before Ian rolled off her with a groan. He sat up to dispose of the condom, and Emma stared up at the ceiling in the near-darkness, trying to control her breathing and make sense of these myriad emotions. Part of her wanted to cuddle, to bring Ian close and wrap herself around him to sleep. He’d probably do it if she asked, curl up with her and let her fall asleep in his arms . . . but she’d only be delaying the inevitable. Men like Ian didn’t date women like her. Sex was understandable, a tumble in the dark with no one to know, but either way, he was going to be gone in the morning.
    After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Emma spoke over the lump in her throat. “You should . . . you should probably go. I mean, unless you . . . want to stay or something.” She sat up, too, wishing she were wearing clothes again, and pulled her pillow in front of her.
    The light from the window caught one side of Ian’s face. He looked surprised at her comment. Maybe he was usually the one trying to make excuses to leave. “Oh. Are you . . . are you